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killerkillerkillher · 1 month

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Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

#ghost mw2 #price mw2 #cod modern warfare #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #call of duty #angel/devil au #141 x reader #141 x male reader #poly!141 x reader #let me cook!#LET ME COOK!

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boydepartment · 1 year

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Pizza Parlor- Lee Felix: Chapter Five!

Description: Y/n is a stressed-out college student who has no idea what she is doing with her life. She is always wrapped up in nostalgia and her friends seem to know exactly what they're doing. Feeling insecure one night she decides to go on an old website. Club Penguin. Little does she know; she would encounter a certain penguin who was also having a rough night.

Stray Kids are idols, TXT is not.

Partial smau, mainly written.

Warnings for chapter 5: cursing!

WC- 2.1k

back next

masterlist

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Song for Chapter 5: Crush - Tessa Violet

Chapter 5: What does my sweet look like?

“YYYYY/NNNNN!!!!!” You woke up to the sound of Kai practically shoving plastic in your face. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, totally forgetting the reason why he was here. Looking at him and laying back down you kept your eyes on him.

“Did the eggs knock you out that badly?” Kai asked, you sat up again and smacked him with a pillow. You now remembered the horrible events of last nig- this morning.

“HEY! I BOUGHT ALL THE DYE AND BLEACH AND STUFF!” He ducked, your eyes lit up and you quickly hopped-up yawning.

Kai followed behind you to the kitchen and set the stuff down.

“Breakfast well lunch I guess?” You asked facing the fridge, when he cleared his throat, you turned around and saw on the counter he brought takeout.

“KAAAI! You didn’t have to do that; I was supposed to pay for the dye too.” You ran over to the bag, he had gotten hashbrowns and a breakfast sandwich. He also already had two water bottles out for you both.

Kai let out a small, ‘pshhh’ then started talking, “who said you were paying for the dye, plus after what happened with the whole egg thing, I figured you are deserving of takeout.” You grinned at him and grabbed some paper plates so you two could eat on the couch and put on some cartoons or something. This was a Sunday morning ritual for your guys’ little household.

“So, I wanted to ask, who is Felix?” Kai asked suddenly.

You choked on your water and looked at him, “what do you mean?”

“Well, Yeonjun said you were talking to some guy named Felix… Soooooooo Y/n whoooo is heeeeee?” Kai taunted you with a hashbrown in his hand.

You swiftly took a piece of it and popped it in your mouth, “he’s just an online friend, keeping me company while you guys were gone.”

This grabbed Kai’s attention, “where does he live?”

“I have no clue.” You took a bite of your sandwich and Kai looked dumbfounded, usually in highschool when you guys met people online you two would just spew information like that (of course then being scolded by Yeonjun) and the recipient always gave the same information. This was truly shocking to Kai.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?”

You jumped at the sudden outburst, Futurama long forgotten you turned to him, “he is just more I dunno! He is really nice though.”

“He didn’t even give you a COUNTRY?” Kai took a big bite into his sandwich.

“Well… He has an accent… He sounds Australian so I just assumed I guess.” You realized how truly crazy you sounded.

Kai started coughing and sat back, “HAS TWITTER AND RANDOM GAMES AND MESSENGER APPS TAUGHT YOU NOTHING? WHERE DID YOU EVEN MEET HIM!?”

“…”

“Y/n… Where did you meet this Felix guy...?” Kai side eyed you from his spot on the couch.

“Club Penguin…”

“Y/N!” The boy now sat back laughing at the situation.

You threw a piece of hashbrown at him, “I know other things about him! He is 22 and has a job where he works at a venue! And he has roommates, and his job is pretty serious!” You said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Okay okay!” Kai stopped teasing and looked at you, “what does he look like?”

“…”

“Y/N!”

After Kai teasing you more about your very mysterious friend you two headed to the bathroom. You guys had a mission, at the moment Kai had light brown hair that was growing out past his eyes. He was always bothered by it.

“I think we have to dye your hair first and then cut it… Or is it the other way around.” You mumbled.

“I thought we had to cut first then dye it.” He asked and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. You had to think for a second then you nodded. You went under the sink and fetched your hair cutting shears. Standing up you went back.

“So, Mr. Kai what are we feeling today?” You put your hand on your hip.

“Oh! Barber Y/n!!! I NEED THESE HAIRS OUT OF MY EYES! They’re like little daggers!!” Kai fake cried and you quickly got to work. It was mainly just a trim for him you weren’t licensed or anything so it’s not like he could ask for something crazy. You hummed to different songs on his playlist as you trimmed away.

“What color are you thinking?” You made sure everything was even.

Kai contemplated and kicked his feet a bit, “ummm how mad would you be if I said I wanted to go platinum again?”

“Like in senior year?” You asked and were impressed by his hair if you were being honest. You did good. It was even. Maybe you should’ve went to a trade school for hair or something.

“Yes! Exactly like senior year!”

You took a deep breath, “we can try that!”

You were going to have to stock up on hair oils and hair masks after this. You grabbed the bowl and the dangerous bleach and activator and started to mix like you did when you made potions in your mom’s bathroom. You and Kai made small talk and then your phone buzzed. Deciding to ignore it you just continued bleaching Kai’s hair, it’s not like it was a Discord notification.

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you about something…” Kai mumbled and looked up at you. You looked down on him and wrapped his head with the heating cap.

“So, my family was planning on taking a trip yaknow…” He started prolonging whatever he was saying. You turned and walked to the mirror starting to bleach your own hair. Secretly you prayed this wasn’t going to be the day where you went bald due to noodle hair.

“And they want to see yaknow… So yaknow…” Kai fiddled with his pants, you looked over at him with a small laugh.

“No, I actually don’t.” You leaned against the counter and continued with your hair.

“Well, Lea has really enjoyed working with you and becoming close with you and yaknow…” Kai sounded like he was really nervous. You turned to him; you were just about done with half of your head.

“Kai, I love you but jeez man spit it out.” You started to laugh a bit.

“They want to go to Seoul to visit my sister and Lea and I want you to come too.” He blurted out. Your jaw dropped.

“Wait actually??” You looked at him with wide eyes. Kai frantically nodded. You grinned.

“I will pick up more shifts!!!” You turned to do the rest of your hair.

“Wait does that mean you’re gonna come with us?” Kai asked hopefully. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, then slightly turned to him.

“Um DUH!”

After finishing your hair, you washed out Kai’s. Then came his toner, which you were going to split with him. Kai had ever so graciously bought your favorite color for your hair dye. You were excited. Hanging out with Kai was always something you did cherish; he was really nice and really saved you in high school and now college.

You two looked at yourselves in the mirror, hair now all done and you two dripped like wet dogs.

“Wow.” Kai said and he touched his hair.

“DO NOT PULL ON IT!” You said quickly and slapped his hand away from his head. He started laughing and grabbed a soft towel to squish his hair and yours.

“So, when is this trip anyways?” You asked. You had to know so you knew how much time you had to save up money. You followed Kai into the kitchen.

“Mmm.” Kai mumbled as he ate a piece of bread from the pantry.

“Mmmarch? Mmmmay?” You perked up. He started laughing at you.

“Maybe for Spring Break. But they also might schedule it in the summer, we still have school remember?” Kai said, “oh and please don’t tell your weird Club Penguin friend unless you have like facetimed him or something.”

You pretended to zip up your lips and put your pinky out. He rolled his eyes and completed your pinky promise. “I pinky promise that-" there was a ping and you started sprinting to the bathroom, it was a discord ping. Quickly unlocking your phone, you opened Felix’s message.

You froze, wait he wanted to see a PHOTO!? This was a little nerve-wracking. Okay wait y/n THINK! What if you just showed a little sliver of your hair? That sounded pretty okay, or maybe like a mirror selfie with your phone covering your face. Wait you wanted to see his hair too… Before you went to take a photo, you texted him saying you wanted to see his hair too. To your surprise he said okay. NOW YOU WERE REALLY NERVOUS.

You quickly looked up and took like 80,000 mirror selfies to only fear sending all of them. Finally, about another couple minutes you just decided fuck it, you took one you thought was nice and sent it! No other second thought!

Oh my god his eyes are so pretty, and you could see a hint of his freckles... WAIT! HE HAS FRECKLES. UGH! Why does someone so mysterious have to be so attractive to you?

You found yourself giggling at your phone, he was so cute. You really did love talking to Felix, and you couldn’t wait now that you’d get to call him again.

“Is that Felix?” Kai asked leaning over your shoulder.

You jumped and looked up at him with a bashful grin, “yeaaaah…”

Kai rolled his eyes and smiled back, “I am gonna make dinner, do you want me to make that soup you like?”

“Yes!!!” You quickly followed him to the kitchen. The rest of the night you two decided to put on some random reality TV show then hit the hay. You figured since Felix was on a plane it would take a while for him to call so that would be good sleep time. Plus, you had a shift the next day with Lea in the afternoon, sleeping early and getting to call Felix before work sounded really nice. Just in case… you decided to be ballsy and text him your number too. You did your nightly routine and snuck into your covers, you made sure to keep your ringer on in case he calls you. That night you went to sleep with a smile on your face, eager to hear his voice again. It was so crazy to you how quickly and easy it was to want to be around him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- Taglist: @bloofairyfox @yellowroses-world @g4m3girl @forevrglow

Taglist is always open :) --------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's note: Hi everyone! I wanted to post this right now because I am going to campus today with a friend. It's technically her campus not mine but we will ignore that lol. I am hoping to finish up to chapter 8 of this story while I am there, on top of homework!

Ugh also, I am literally so SORE. I really need to learn to pace myself when it comes to working out. Plus practicing what I preach lol! Instead of having coffee today my mom got this like plant based energy thing??? Idk what it is but it tastes really good! Remember to give healthy alternatives a shot sometimes! You never know what you will find or taste!

I hope everyone is doing well today! I still feel bad about yesterdays .5 chapter being really short! So once again I apologize for that! I am actually starting to write them a lot longer. The word doc to this story is over 50 pages! How crazy is that! I am really thankful to everyone who loves this series, it really means a lot to me and I haven't gotten this much enjoyment from writing since middle school. Thank you guys for igniting this spark again, I will always be forever thankful <3 Have a good day or night everyone! I love you!

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#lee felix x reader #stray kids #straykids #kpop #skz #skzxreader #straykids x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix #lee felix x female reader #soobin #txt post #txt taehyun #hueningkai #yeonjun #beomgyu

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griffintail · 3 years

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I watched this really cute anime movie about a deaf girl recently, and it gave me an idea I thought you might like!!

What if Tommy had a kid (how he came upon the child is irrelevant) who was deaf? Music, especially the discs are a big thing for Tommy, so it’d be a big adjustment for him to realize “Oh yeah, they can’t hear this”. He learns sign language with a LOT of help from others cause he wants to be able to communicate with his kid, and he and his kid sometimes gossip and tease people using sign language cause aside from a few basic signs, no one really knows what those two are talking about; well..maybe Tubbo knows, only cause he was the one Tommy spent the most time learning sign with.

Bonus, what if when his kid’s a little older they decide they wanna hear the discs their dad talks about, so they ask Uncle Techno to help them craft something akin to hearing aids; but y’know with magic and stuff. And when they hear their dad’s discs for the first time they cry cause it’s even better than they ever could have imagined??

I just, I like the fluffy stuff!!

- from, an Anon Who Probably Has Cavities From All This Sweetness🍬🍭🍫

To Hear

Summary: Tommy cares for a deaf, child (Y/N).

Pairings: Parental! Platonic! Tommy x Deaf! Child! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Bruh, I was so excited to make this I did in a few hours. I have been thinking about this since you sent it in. I use some elements from Lost Ones but it’s soo not canon to my story.

*Any full sentences in Italics means they’re talking in Sign Language.*

I hope you enjoy it ♥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy didn’t know.

How was he supposed to?

He’d never met anyone that was deaf and didn’t know the signs. (Y/N) was also a baby when he first got her, not exactly like she could go, hey, I can’t hear.

So, he didn’t know for ages. He really didn’t know what he was doing raising a baby, so when she wasn’t talking by the age of one, he thought it could be a normal thing. He was worried but it could be normal! Babies weren’t super smart after all.

It was Wilbur that figured it out.

When he had come to visit his brother and found out he had a baby, of course, they sat down and had a serious talk about it, said baby still happily playing with her toys despite the yelling earlier. After Wilbur realized his brother wasn’t going to simply give up this child, especially after a year of work, he decided he might as well accept it. So, he went over to the child and sat next to her.

“Hi (Y/N).” Wilbur smiled lightly.

The child didn’t react though, having not noticed someone was next to her. Wilbur frowned slightly at this and put a hand on her arm, making her look at him now.

“Hi, little lady.” He greeted her again.

She made little babbles to him as she turned back to her toys.

“What words does she know?” Wilbur asked curiously, a small smile on his face again as he remembered when Fundy was a child.

“Uh, none yet. I can’t get her to say any. She likes making sounds but not much else.” Tommy admitted.

Wilbur looked at him surprised and Tommy knew now that this wasn’t normal if Wilbur had that face.

“You said she’s one, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” He nodded nervously.

His little girl wasn’t saying words and Wilbur looked concerned. Had he screwed up with his little one?

Wilbur looked back at (Y/N) though, his mind at work.

“(Y/N).” He said, but she once more didn’t look at him. “Tommy, does she ever respond to her name?”

“I mean, sometimes. Not all the time.”

“When she does respond, are you right in front of her?” Wilbur looked up at him.

Tommy thought about it before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

“Does she ever get scared by your yelling? Or anyone’s yelling for that matter. Loud noises?”

“Not really, w-what has this got to do with anything?” Tommy questioned.

“…Tommy, I think (Y/N)’s deaf.”

Tommy stood there for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no, you’re wrong. She makes noises and things like that. She wouldn’t make them if she couldn’t hear them. And-And we relax to my discs all the time, they calm her down.”

Wilbur stood up, putting a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder. “She’ll still make sounds, but she won’t be able to form words, Tommy. She would have said any sort of word before now. She can also feel vibrations, they probably feel nice but she can’t hear any of it.”

At the moment, Tommy couldn’t form words as he stared at his brother trying to deny what he said, but…it made sense. Tommy could never get her to respond to her name. She never really seemed to care when he’d try and teach her how to speak. When he and Tubbo were being loud, she never even flinched. Even a small moment when he had been shouting and swearing profanities when she was napping came to mind as he remembered she never even woke up to that.

“My baby’s deaf.” He whispered. “What…I…God, how didn’t I notice?!”

“Calm down Tommy.” Wilbur took both of Tommy’s shoulders. “You’re a smart kid and you’ve been doing this for a year. You can figure it out and I’ll help you with it. I’m sure Tubbo will too.”

From there, it was a lot for Tommy to process. He had just gotten used to the fact he was taking care of a child; now he had to think several steps ahead and make sure he was ready when she got older. It was a shock to his best friend as well, that felt stupid too for not realizing it sooner, and they both took steps to figure it out.

There were countless days where instead of going out and adventuring, Tubbo and Tommy practiced having sign language conversations with each other. Other days, Tommy would try and teach (Y/N) simple sign words so she could now start to ask for what she wanted. The relief he felt when she actually started to pick up was immeasurable. He nearly cried when she signed dad to him for the first time without him teaching her.

When L’Manberg was starting to be formed, he made sure everyone within their walls knew how to talk basics with his child in case she needed anything from them. Tommy never liked leaving (Y/N) with anyone but himself and Tubbo and Wilbur, but when war came, things changed and he had to make sure his baby was being taken care of properly.

Somethings that Tommy did became said with the new thought.

Tommy still did his daily ritual with (Y/N), sitting with her and listening to a music disc. His heart broke a little each time now though as when they listened together, he realized every time before he was the only one listening to them. She couldn’t hear a single note. That frustrated him to no end some days as he wished his baby could hear such beautiful sounds but there was nothing, he could do to change it.

Years went on. L’Manberg was independent from the Dream SMP, Wilbur and Tommy were in power, Tommy had one of his discs back from Dream from a little scam, and (Y/N) was eleven years old.

“Can we go see Uncle Tubbo?” (Y/N) asked Tommy.

“Yeah, in a bit. Got to finish writing this for Wilbur. Bitch is so lazy.” Tommy smirked before going back to writing.

Wilbur looked over at the sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles.

“What are you doing Tommy?” He asked his brother.

“Nothing Wilbur,” Tommy called to him.

“He’s president, tell him to get off his lazy arse.”

Tommy had to put a hand over his mouth as Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

“What did she just say? She was going too fast for me.”

“Just a stupid joke Wilbur.” Tommy grinned as he gave (Y/N) a subtle thumbs up.

The older man shook his head as he went back to his potions as Tommy finished writing. Putting the book away, Tommy nodded his head for the door of the van and both he and (Y/N) left. She wore her own L’Manberg uniform as they walked down the path towards Tubbo’s home.

“It still sucks his old house is gone. I liked it.”

“Yeah, but what are you going to do when you have a power-hungry green bitch?”

(Y/N) giggled again as they got to Tubbo’s house, Tommy barging in.

“Tubbo!” He called.

Tubbo poked his head out from where he was gathering up a few things and smiled.

“Hey, Tommy! Hey (Y/N).” Tubbo greeted them.

“Hi, Uncle Tubbo. Did you get any new bees?”

“I did, they’re with the rest of the hive. You can go see them, just don’t scare them.”

“I know. I’ll be back dad!”

Tommy gave her a salute and she was gone.

“She been doing ok?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah, she’s been pretty good.” Tommy grinned. “She talked shit about Wilbur in front of him and it was pretty funny.”

“I still can’t believe you taught her to swear.” Tubbo shook his head as he went back to his chests.

“It’s hilarious! No one else knows what we’re saying but you!”

“That’s because I learned with you. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t know either.” Tubbo reminded him. “Jack figure it out yet?”

“No.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

A few of the new members of L’Manberg and the Dream SMP struggled to remember (Y/N) was deaf and often startled her or would simply walk up to her and try and just simply talk. The little girl struggled with her deafness sometimes as she was different from everyone else. Tommy was always there to assure her though that she was fine the way she was.

“But hey, I was thinking about how to get my disc back from Skeppy,” Tommy mentioned.

“Oh yeah, what this time?” Tubbo asked.

(Y/N) came back in smiling as Tommy and Tubbo were talking animatedly about their plan. She gave a simple clap to let them know she was there as she often did when she’d enter a room and no one noticed. They both looked over and motioned her over, talking about their plan instead in sign so she’d know what they were talking about.

They were talking about the discs again and she frowned slightly. Her father loved playing discs when they were home and she liked feeling the music but she couldn’t help but always wonder what it was like to listen to what her father could hear. To know why he liked them so much that Dream would take them from him.

A few months past and (Y/N) got herself a new uncle when he settled down close by to their homeland. Technoblade had come to see what his brothers were up to and decided to stick around for a while to see if their government got out of hand. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what that meant but she thought he was pretty cool.

One of the coolest things was that he already knew rough sign language, having needed it for one of his travels. She thrilled for her father not have to teach someone once more the basics, instead Techno taught himself how to sign better and more advanced words so he could talk to her when she was around.

She was around a decent bit of time.

As Techno was now around, Tommy liked to spar with him and (Y/N) liked to watch her father’s skills at work. Alongside that, Techno told her a few stories about his travels or just stories with the sign he taught himself. He often also lent her books for her to read in her spare time.

Tommy had never felt more grateful for his oldest brother.

Sure, he couldn’t talk shit around Techno because he’d know what he was saying, but seeing (Y/N) smile to be able to talk to someone else made up for it.

Today though, (Y/N) had to ask Techno for a favor. All of the boys and her were at Wilbur’s to just have some family time, so now was the perfect time.

“Hey Techno.” (Y/N) stood nervously in front of him as Tommy was arguing with Wilbur in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

“You know how to do enchantments and stuff right?”

“Yeah, I do quite a bit of it.”

“Are you really good at it?”

“I’d say so, why?”

“I want to hear.”

Techno leaned back in his seat watching her. She looked rather passionate about hearing.

“Why?”

She hesitated to move her hands. “Dad really likes his discs and I just.” She paused. “I want to hear what they’re like, even for a few moments to have something more with him.”

Techno gave a small smile as he nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll work on something when I get home. You got to go into the kitchen right now though and curse Wilbur out.”

“Easy! Deal!”

A few moments later, Tommy was dying of laughter as Techno smirked in his seat as Wilbur demanded to know what (Y/N) was saying. Wilbur knew he should have been getting more lessons from Techno.

It took Techno a few days but he managed to get small devices enchanted to hear for a few hours.

“It’d take me a lot more work to get permanent hearing. That’s a long project and I’d need some help. But these will work for a few hours before they bug out.” Techno told her as she held them in her hands, having taken her to “watch her”.

“Thank you so much Techno.”

“It’s what I do. And I guess you can start calling me Uncle.”

She grinned before putting the devices in her ears. For a moment, there was nothing, but that was because Techno made sure they were in a quiet place so she wasn’t overwhelmed. He waited before speaking.

“So?”

She jumped at the sound before smiling widely.

“I can hear!”

“Great, let’s go see Tommy.” He said as he signed along with his words.

She wouldn’t know what each word would sound like, that would take more than a few hours, so she’d still have to see sign but that wasn’t the purpose of Techno’s work. They walked back to Tommy’s base and Techno knocked on the door as (Y/N) was looking around in amazement. Tommy flung the door open, grinning to see (Y/N) was already back.

“You bored her already?” Tommy laughed, (Y/N) looking over as she smiled at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No, I only needed her to see if what I made actually worked,” Techno told him as they went into the house.

“And what the hell is that?” Tommy asked as he looked at (Y/N) as Techno’s back was turned. “How stupid was it?”

(Y/N) giggled. “You sound pretty cool dad.”

Tommy frowned, confused, as Techno leaned on a wall. “What does that mean?”

“Uncle Techno helped enchant devices that let me hear for a few hours.”

Tommy stood frozen for a moment before he snapped his head to Techno.

“Is she serious?” He asked.

“Dead serious.” Techno nodded.

Tommy looked at (Y/N) and grinned, hugging her tightly.

“You can hear!” He laughed, making (Y/N) cringe. “Oops, right. You’re not used to that.”

“I’m ok.” She told him figuring he was feeling guilty.

“She won’t understand words, remember.” Techno reminded his brother.

“Right.” Tommy nodded. “There’s so many sounds you should hear. I don’t know where to start!”

“Well, I asked Uncle Techno so I could hear your discs.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide before he grinned taking (Y/N)’s hand and pulling her to the jukebox outside.

“Wait right here.” He instructed her as he rushed back inside, Techno coming out lazily with a smile.

Tommy ran back with a familiar purple and white-colored disc. He rested it on the jukebox before speaking to (Y/N).

“This is Mellohi. It’s the disc I gave to Dream before I got it back. One of the discs I played for you all the time when you were a baby before I knew and even after. This is one of our discs.”

Tommy picked up the disc again, taking a deep breath before putting it on. He sat next to (Y/N) on the bench as the song started to play. (Y/N) sat in amazement as she felt the familiar vibrations but also heard the sound it made. Tommy had such a wide smile as he wiped the corner of his eyes of tears as he watched (Y/N)’s reaction to one of their discs.

She begged him to put on another and Tommy gladly brought out the rest of his collection, Techno having long ago left to see his mission accomplished. They spent those hours they had listening to their discs, Tommy telling Tubbo at one point and the other boy joining the two of them. The trio sat there until the enchantment ran out, but Tommy couldn’t be happier.

His baby had heard their discs and he swore to himself that he’d help Techno with whatever he needed to make it permanent.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #tommyinnit x reader #dreamsmp #dreamsmp x reader

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tsumugimagines · 3 years

Note

asdfghjkhfsa just got here and aro-ace gang✨✨✨ anyways, can i get some Shuichi, Gundham, Kaede, and Kokichi (seperately lol) stuff? It can be angst, it can be fluff, it can be hurt/comfort, idc, just make it sfw please. (i may or may not have read all the content i can get my hands on for those characters already nope couldn't be me) btw, since i'm going to be hanging around here for a while, can i be 🎮 anon?

Sure! Welcome to the party, 🎮 anon! Anything I want, eh? Well, since you didn't specify if it was with an S/O or not, how about... Painting a friend's nails! Sine you want them all separately, this'll require some creativity on my part. I hope you enjoy it!

Shuichi Saihara

"Please, Saihara-Kun! I am sure you will do a fine job of it. You will not do any damage to my hands!" Kiibo insisted. "I wish to be part of this manicure activity as well!"

"I-I... Well, okay, but... I've never done this before." Shuichi admitted, sitting at the table across from the now eager robot. "Um... What color do you want?"

"I believe this teal color would look best on me." Kiibo replied, pointing to a bottle hesitantly. Shuichi nodded and started to unscrew the cap, only to realize he was twisting the wrong way. He sighed and twisted the cap correctly, opening the nail polish. To any onlooker, one thing was obvious: Neither party knew what he was doing.

"Try and hold still, okay? It'll make things easier." Shuichi requested, taking the brush out of the bottle. Kiibo nodded, sitting up straight and holding as still as he possibly could.

"I understand."

"Kiibo-Kun... I need you to hold out your hands so I can paint them."

"Oh, right!"

With that, Shuichi bit his lip and began to paint the tips of Kiibo's fingers. Kiibo did not have any visible fingernails, but Shuichi tried his best to approximate where they would be. Kiibo didn't say a word or move at all until Shuichi was finally done applying a coat of color to each finger.

"They look excellent, Saihara-Kun!"

"R-Really?"

"Yes, they do! Thank you so much!"

Kiibo and I grew a little closer today.

You gained a Hope Fragment!

Gundham Tanaka

"Hmph... The gall! The sheer nerve!"

"Tanaka-Kun-" Sonia started.

"The idea that I, Gundham Tanaka, Supreme Overlord Of Ice, would engage in such an activity?! Preposterous! Incomprehensible! Inconceivable!"

"Then why do you own a bottle of black nail polish, Tanaka-Kun?"

Gundham seemed to wilt. "I-I... Erm..."

"Tanaka-Kun, such a thing is nothing to be ashamed of." Sonia assured, offering a smile. "Should I offer to paint your nails instead?"

"N-No!" Gundham recovered, hiding his blushing face with his scarf. "I am sure I shall manage just fine. Mirage Golden Hawk Jum-P shall sit by your side as we proceed, to ensure that you are protected from any dark forces that may disrupt this delicate ritual."

"Wonderful!" Sonia beamed, sitting cross-legged in front of Gundham. The sleepy white and brown hamster, as promised, made his way to Sonia's side and curled up there, closing his eyes. Sonia held out her delicate hands, and Gundham proceeded with the manicure. There was a period of silence before Gundham finally spoke.

"Tell me, Lady Of Darkness. Are such traditions as this prominent in the realm in which you usually reside?"

"Oh, yes! I have seen many palace servants with painted nails! I think it is as common in the kingdom of Novoselic as it is everywhere else."

"I see." Gundham replied. He had completed his work quickly and skillfully, applying multiple coats of polish to each finger. Now he was getting ready to apply the clear top coat.

"My goodness!" Sonia giggled. "You seem to have experience in painting nails, Gundham!"

"Hmph... I am Tanaka The Forbidden One! To think I would not be skilled in such a menial field as this is absurd."

"If you say so." Sonia replied knowingly, allowing the breeder to finish applying the top coat to her nails with a smile.

Kaede Akamatsu

"There you are!" Kaede exclaimed, practically lighting up with excitement as the door opened.

"Hey, Akamatsu-San." Rantaro greeted, rubbing the back of his head a little. "What's this about?"

"Oh, well, remember how you gave me an amazing manicure a while ago?"

"Oh, yeah. Why?"

"Well, I wanted to return the favor!" She proclaimed, gesturing to a table laden with all the appropriate items needed. Rantaro could even see a book on the table titled "Manicures for beginners."

"Oh, really?" Rantaro chuckled. "Well, I don't see why not."

"Great!" Kaede replied, sitting down. Rantaro sat down across from him and extended his hands.

"Do you have a color preference, Amami-Kun?" Kaede asked, laying down a towel for her to work over.

"No, not really. Guess if I had to pick, I'd go with either green or black, but my sisters always insisted on painting 'em pink for some reason."

"Aw, that's adorable!" Kaede giggled, opening a bottle of dark green nail polish. "Did they stick little rhinestones on, too?"

"They tried once. I think more polish ended up on the carpet than on my hands." Rantaro chuckled.

"Well, that's what happens when you give kids messy things, I guess." Kaede replied with a smile as she began to paint Rantaro's nails. He let out a small chuckle, echoing the words she had said to him a long time ago.

"H-Hey, Akamatsu-San! That tickles!"

Kaede giggled in reply, continuing on with her work. Rantaro spared another glance at the "Manicures For Beginners" book at the edge of the table as Kaede began to attempt a French Slant of her own. He had a feeling that she would give him a better manicure than his sisters ever had, but he would never have said that out loud.

Kokichi Oma

"Okie dokie! How are things going with you two?" A masked girl with ponytails asked in a singsong voice.

"Perfectly!" Kokichi beamed, not looking up from his work. The unfortunate recipient of the manicure, a well-endowed woman wearing gold hoop earrings, gave a pained smile. Clearly, things were not going perfectly.

"Um... Interesting color combo you've got going there!" Someone else commented, peering over Kokichi's shoulder. "Very... Bold!"

"Nishishi! You flatter me." Kokichi chuckled in reply.

"Did you... Color one of her nails with an orange marker?" Someone else asked. By now, every single member of D. I. C. E was leaning over, looking at Kokichi's handiwork.

"Sure did!" He replied. "Okay... Done!"

"They look very colorful, Ouma-Sama." Someone else chuckled. "And so does the table."

"Nishishi! Of course they- Wait, what?"

Kokichi looked down at the table, seeing the splatters of color that now littered it. Everyone giggled.

"H-Hey! As your Supreme Leader, I order you all to stop laughing!" He scoffed. "We can clean this up fine!"

"I-I'll get some paper towels..." A girl with long brown hair sighed, turning before anyone could say anything more.

"So much for D. I. C. E manicure sessions, eh?" The tallest member of the group chuckled, looking at his red nails that now perfectly matched his bright afro.

"Pfft... What are you talking about? Seems like it was a complete success to me!"

The rest of the group giggled again. Kokichi looked up at them, annoyed.

"Hey! This is a super duper serious matter, you know!"

"Sure it is, Ouma-Sama." Someone else replied, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sure it is."

#danganronpa imagines #shuichi saihara #gundham tanaka #kaede akamatsu #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #I'll add the ship tags too. Fuck it.#shuichi x kiibo #sonia x gundham #kaede x rantaro #saiibo #sondam #amamatsu #I tried to keep D. I. C. E vague so you guys could insert whatever personality and name headcanons you have #Enjoy all of this shameless fluff ❤️#🎮 anon

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 3 years

Text

His Dark Materials S2 Ep 6 - Rambling/Thoughts

I really cannot believe that we’re at the penultimate episode already, oh my gosh. It’s gone by so fast??

Again, because I’ve reread TSK in the last couple of weeks, the book is fresh in my mind but I’ve probably still missed stuff

Also last week was so intense and seeing the “previously on” section made me remember just how intense that was, so it’s a hard job to top that!

ANGELS AHH RIGHT AWAY IM GEEKING OUT

“The last time they were seen was to make war” - IT’S HAPPENING ASDFGHJKL

Ruta going off to see Asriel and me just remembering what exactly went down between them while she was there with him... heh

So Will’s hand looks AWFUL oh my god poor Will 😭

Pan is REALLY into his Red PAN-da form oh my goodness

So the other kids out for revenge terrified the living SHIT out of me, dear god I don’t think it could be any creepier than dozens of them appearing out of the shadows like that, like it’s genuinely terrifying

Serafina just dropped right in to rescue them and I was both relieved and a little disappointed? Because in the book the whole chase sequence is so much longer and more important, like it takes up most of an entire chapter I think, and here it’s like two minutes?

Serafina: What does this edge cut? // Lyra: Everything (Will at the same time: Nothing.) - 😂

I missed Lee and Jopari tbh so yay to seeing them once more! And they’ve crossed into the next world!

Oh hi again Mary!

^ I wasn’t expecting to see Mary again this series because in TSK book, her last appearance is going through the window (which was last episode), so I’m a little curious as to whether we’re going to get a TINY little peek into The Amber Spyglass here (it’s been years since I reread it, I apologize). Because last series they did a bit of TSK (namely introducing Will + him crossing into Cittagazze), so it would be interesting!

“Good, something I can understand for a change” - LOL Same

Serafina wants to take Lyra back to her world?? Really??

Not gonna lie, the two girls spying on Mary was kind of low-key creepy

Lyra mentioning that she crossed worlds to find out about Dust and mentioning Roger 😭

Also I’m so emotional over just how much she wants Will to be safe, like she would really do anything to keep him safe and I love it

Lyra asking the Alethiometer where Will’s dad is and “he’s in this world” - ahhh it’s going to happen!

Also I really hope that the BBC/whoever decides to sell replica Alethiometers because the design is so beautiful?! I would fork out serious dough for one, and it would go nicely with the one I have from the film

No but seriously, words don’t describe just how badly I want a replica

“I wanted to fly so I summoned you here, now I’m flying” - LOL OKAY THEN JOHN

Ooh damn, that outfit Marisa is wearing is FINE. I’m slightly gayer than I was before, ngl

I was like “nooo Mary don’t be nice to these kids, they’re awful”

But it’s very sweet that she offers them food?? Like she pulls a chocolate bar out and is like “it’s no good for you, it’s full of sugar”... I love her

The way that Mary was so happy and excited when they mentioned Lyra, only to tell the girls off for trying to kill her - more of a mum than Mrs Coulter tbh

“Miss, can I have a hug?” - AWWW OMG WHY AM I SAD

They asked Mary to stay and look after them omg 😭😭😭

“Come with me, I’ll bring you to your adults” - ooh okay this could go any number of ways... Either she actually reunites them with their families and all’s well, or she takes them up there and their parents/adults are all dead (for lack of a better word)? Or the Spectres attack after Mary leaves them with the adults??

Jopari talking about meeting his dæmon and also a little bit about trying to get back to his family :(

“Can you magic us up a fire?” “One moment” *presents a box of matches” - LMFAO

Wait did Serafina seriously just imply that she thought Will might hurt Lyra?!?

Serafina saying that if protecting Lyra means protecting Will as well... Yes, protect Will please! Protect BOTH of these children, I literally BEG you, they’ve gone through far too much

Ooh okay so the witch ritual/spell was kind of cool to see!

Lyra saying “please tell me he’ll be alright” 😭♥️

The fact that Lyra curled up close to Will and then Pan (in ermine form) curled up CLOSER to Will is so cute, they both love Will so much

Pan: “We feel safe her... don’t we?” / OOF OKAY THIS IS F I N E

I already know what Lyra’s “other name” is because I read the book but the hints are anything BUT subtle tbh. “Mother of us all, cause of all sin, tempted by the serpent”... I’m not even that religious but I think it’s pretty obvious.

Also, if Mary is playing the part of the “serpent” within Lyra’s destiny, does that mean that Mary has tempted Lyra? Or that she will?

Boreal being nervous about being in the city and Marisa is just so unimpressed by him... Mood

That smirk she had when going up to that Spectre victim was so chilling, we have to stan Ruth Wilson and her incredible acting

Also, fun fact, Ruth Wilson went to my sixth form college and is from Surrey (like me), and she grew up in Shepperton, which is where my Nan used to live when she was alive (my uncle and aunt live there still), so that’s super exciting!

“We could learn from this” - PLEASE DO NOT MA’AM

God I hate the Magisterium so fucking much, the patriarchy is so strong with them

Oh great, now they’re gunning to kill Lyra :/

Also, off topic, I’ve only just connected that Will Keen, who plays Father MacPhail, is Dafne Keen’s dad?!?

“She’s lost a lot for one so young” - AND SHE’S STILL GOING TO LOSE PEOPLE, WHY IS THIS FAIR PHILIP PULLMAN 😭

“She must be protected” - AGAIN, they BOTH need protecting PLEASE

The Spectre noises reminded me of the noises of the Smoke Monster from LOST, so that’s definitely trippy for me

Thanks, I hate it

I nearly shouted “WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING” out loud in front of both my parents, I seriously thought she had a damn death wish

I have never been so damn tense in my entire life as I am watching this show - and I KNOW what happens

HOW DID SHE DO THAT WITH THE SPECTRES SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN

Lee’s so worried about Lyra - 11/10, Father of the Year

The Magisterium airships... NO. FUCK. WE’RE AT THAT POINT ALREADY AND IM NOT OKAY BECAUSE I KNOW HOW AND WHERE THIS ENDS AND I HATE IT

I deadass thought Marisa and Carlo were about to kiss when he ran up to her and I actually said out loud “NO please don’t”

Look I must just be so dirty minded but when she said “let’s celebrate”, my immediate reaction was “NO NO NO NO EW EW EW NO” and “I hope she just means having a drink and not doing the frickety-frack”

I was so close to tearing up as Will was talking about his mum, her illness, and the boys who were mean to her because of it. His love for his mum is so beautifully written and the way Amir Wilson is playing Will is so wonderful

I was also close to tears when he was talking about his dad and how he used to imagine about his dad, so maybe I’m just emotional anyway

“Could go to school... have friends” - okay yeah no I’m definitely crying 😭

“I couldn’t trust anyone.” “Until you met me.” “Yeah.” - EXCUSE ME ♥️😭 my HEART

I love one (1) soft boy, and one (1) feral girl and her dæmon

The relief I felt when I saw Marisa and Carlo were literally just having drinks 😅

“They consume what makes us human, so I just suppressed that and hid it” + *cut to the monkey looking kinda sad/uncomfortable* - Umm fUCK OKAY THEN

Why am I feeling sorry for the monkey?!?

“You think we’re equal?” - LMFAO RIGHT

EWW THEY KISSED. No, just... nO

When I saw his snake dæmon moving towards her monkey, I thought one of two things was about to happen: 1) the monkey was going to pet and paw and the snake as Marisa seduced Boreal, or 3) the monkey was going to strange the snake and kill Boreal

OKAY THIS TOOK A SHARP BUT NOT UNWELCOMED TURN

“You’ve NEVER been my equal.” “You’d only hold me back.” - OH MY GOD YES THE SHADE

She’s not wrong though let’s be honest here

So she poisoned him I’m assuming? She poisoned his drink because the monkey didn’t actually touch the snake... damn.

Her just sitting there and continuing to drink with his dead body there is... damn.

“Into that valley” NO NO, please no

Jopari really just summoned a whole damn storm huh

Also the fact he fully trusts in Lee’s abilities to land them safely :3

Lee: “Can we trust him?” // Hester: “Do we have another choice?!!” - LMFAO I love them so much

THE WAY I NEARLY SCREAMED WHEN THAT WITCH GOT ATTACKED BY A SPECTRE OMFG AT LEAST WILL WAS THERE TO SAVE HER

Okay but did Marisa REALLY sit there for HOURS with Boreal’s corpse sitting opposite her?!?

Her burning her hand on the flame in front of the monkey, and the monkey clearly whimpering and in pain was so agonizing to watch, I can’t take this show

Also, you have to wonder just how many times she’s harmed herself (and him) for her to keep doing it with next to no problems (like separating from each other all the time)

I was so excited to see the birds attacking the zeppelins, like it was one of my favourite details in the book, and I worried that they wouldn’t have the budget for it but yay!

I do kind of wish that we’d had Sayan Kötor as the “eagle Queen” leading them though - she probably was but I wish we’d actually seen it or heard Jopari say it or whatever

THEY SHOT THE GAS CANNISTER OH SHIT THEY’RE GOING DOWN HARD AND FAST IN THAT BALLOON

HOLD ON BBC YOU CANNOT END THIS THERE?!? EXCUSE ME?!

The last episode is next week and on an hour earlier, so that’s exciting! I have no idea what I’ll do once this series ends, or when we’ll even get the third and final series because of COVID and filming delays, but I’m excited for it nonetheless and hoping it’s next November/December or something!

#his dark materials #hdm #lyra belacqua #lyra silvertongue #marisa coulter #mrs coulter #will parry #serafina pekkala #ruth wilson #dafne keen #amir wilson #pantalaimon #john parry #lee scoresby #hester

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one-boring-person · 3 years

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What's It To You? (Part Two)

Dwayne (The Lost Boys) x reader(ish)

Warnings: bad language, graphic depictions of blood and death, slight nudity (nothing graphic)

Context: Dwayne has another encounter with the werewolves

A/N: as promised here is part two! It turned out very differently to how I imagined it, but I quite like it. I may develop this if I have time, but we'll have to see

Masterlist

Tagging: @thetempleofthemasaigoddess (original requester)

The roads are eerily quiet, bare except for the lone motorcycle speeding up towards Hudson's Bluff, the near-full moon serving to light the way, even as it is mostly cast in darkness. The figure astride the bike leans forwards over the tank of the vehicle, revving the engine, intent on getting back to the cave faster, knowing the food strapped to the back is getting somewhat cold. His dark hair whips out behind him, flowing smoothly in the rushing wind created by the speed of the bike, allowing the vampire to see clearly.

Around him, Dwayne barely notices the dark forest, paying no attention to it, just as he usually does, never having encountered anything there that may harm him, and not expecting to, either. Internally, he knows that there's no way he'd be able to hear if there were anything there, given that the motorcycle's engine ruined any chance of picking up anything, even despite his enhanced hearing, so he doesn't think too much on it.

He has, however, been plagued by a peculiar feeling since he turned onto this particular road. Something isn't quite right, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up as a chill runs down his spine, the reflex surprising him; nothing has made him do that, not since he turned, anyway. The vampire tries to ignore it, but he can't fight the pressing notion that he's being watched - and not just by one person, either.

For the first time, he curses the volume of his motorbike's engine, wishing now that he could hear and acknowledge everything around him, and so assess whether or not he's in any real danger. He tightens his grip on the handlebars, gritting his teeth, beating down the rising unease in his gut, reminding himself that it's not too far before he has to turn off onto the cliff, at which point he'll mostly leave behind the eerie forest, and hopefully the sensation with it. Thankful for his sharp vision, he takes in the sight of a sharp bend, a little way away, taking it with ease as he nears it.

His hand clenches tightly around the brake, the bike skidding to a halt with a sharp squeal.

A pair of glowing amber eyes stare him down, blazing brightly in the beam of his headlight, holding his gaze steadily. Swallowing, Dwayne maintains the eye contact, having taken in the form of the silhouette instantly: a huge wolf, easily the size of a small pony, its body rippling with muscle under a thick pelt of black fur, shot with silver and grey, the creature much more barrel-chested than any normal canine. Its lips pull back slightly over its glistening fangs, the gesture disturbingly reminiscent of a smirk as it releases a low growl, as if laughing at him.

Dwayne has no idea how to react, feeling the natural instinct of his vampirism rising up in him, his own eyes turning yellow as his fangs push at his lower lip, threatening to expose themselves. He forces this down, until he realises that the hulking wolf before him is not his only problem. At least eight others have emerged from the darkness, circling him like sharks as they snarl lowly, teeth snapping at him as he glances at each of them. None of them are quite the size of the first, but many are close, their bodies each laden with muscles that would put a timber wolf to shame.

Climbing off of his motorbike, Dwayne bares his own teeth, the food forgotten now as he assesses the situation, figuring out his best way out of the threat. Spreading his weight evenly, he watches the wolves carefully, vaguely surprised when he notices them come to a halt at regular intervals around him, ready to spring into the air to avoid any possible conflict. He should've remembered the werewolves, especially after the last month's encounter with the young female back at the chicken race.

Just as he goes to move, however, two of the wolves start to contort, the largest one, and a much smaller one, limbs stretching and shrinking, joints and bones cracking audibly as they break and reset themselves. Growls and barks escape the two of them, the pelts starting to melt away into skin, paws becoming hands and feet as muzzles pull back into jaws, fangs retracting into natural canines as human features fall back into place, leaving two recognisable people behind. Dwayne has to bite back a sound of surprise as he comes face to face with the two (very naked) werewolves.

He recognises them both from the chicken race, the first being the muscular guy he'd seen with the dark hair, the second being the reckless racer, her expression that of embarrassment and guilt. She stands somewhat behind the taller man, using his bulky body to conceal her own nudity, though her eyes are fixed on Dwayne's as he regards them both, unsure of where this is going now.

The dark-haired man watches him carefully for a couple more minutes, brown eyes taking in every inch of his body, even as Dwayne looks over him, making sure to avoid his lower half, finding himself admiring the curling patterns of ink swirling across broad shoulders, bleeding down onto a toned torso. Bulging arms are crossed over an incredibly toned abdomen, veins standing out even in the pale light of the moon, the man's black hair falling slightly into his face. Since they last laid eyes on each other, the guy's scruff has grown out a little, giving him a much more roguish look, though it doesn't take away from the admittedly handsome cast of his features.

"You know, you bloodsuckers are a lot harder to find than I thought you'd be." His voice when he speaks is rough and thick, words almost slurred from how heavy his accent is, clearly not having originated from this part of the country, but rather somewhere more rural.

"There's a reason for that." Dwayne replies, evenly, still tense.

The man lifts an eyebrow, lidded eyes trained on him.

"I'd ask you to elaborate, but I'm not stupid." He bites out, adjusting his stance.

"Good to know." Dwayne frowns, "What do you want?"

Dark eyes narrow, head cocking to the side.

"I hate to admit it, but we need your help."

A moment of silence falls on them, the vampire blinking in surprise, the werewolves watching him closely.

"You can't be serious." Dwayne eventually manages, suspicious now of their true intentions.

"Oh, I'm dead serious, as much as it pains me to admit it." The werewolf growls back, gruff voice laced with disgust.

"Please, hear us out, will you?" The racer from before suddenly speaks up, imploring Dwayne with her eyes from behind her leader.

Curious, Dwayne nods after a moment, returning his gaze back to the surly leader as the racer shoots him a quick smile of thanks.

"I'll be quick saying this, but there's a new coven of witches in town. Bad ones. They haven't taken too kindly to us, and I don't reckon they'll be too happy to have four vampires on their asses, either. We want your help getting rid of them." The leader explains, shifting a little.

"What makes them bad?" Dwayne questions, not too surprised by the knowledge of there being new witches in town.

"They're Sanguis witches. Blood witches, but a very traditional faction of them. They've got a thirst for the stuff that shames you lot, but it's not necessarily human blood they want." He informs him, tightening his jaw, "They've killed three of our youngest members already, all to use in their vile rituals, and from the sounds of things they've been doing the same with humans. There's word on the street of them looking for new blood, too. Preferably vampire."

The news strikes a cold feeling inside Dwayne, the knowledge of the Sanguis Witches of old being something he grew up fearing, particularly their ruthless and remorseless methods of collecting the substance they treasure the most: blood. For years, he'd heard the stories of how they brutally slaughtered entire villages, looking for the perfect sacrifice to use in their barbaric rituals, or how they'd string up unlucky victims like cows in an abattoir and bleed them out, alive, chanting through the screams of the dying men, women and children above them. Their presence in Santa Carla is troubling, and totally unwelcome, especially if they have murder on their minds.

"You're sure it's Sanguis Witches? Not just some over-excited witches trying to live up to someone else's standard?" The vampire questions, unsure of whether or not to believe the werewolf.

"We're sure." The girl replies, wincing at the memory, "We found our youngest completely dismembered and arranged in a pentacle, with the remainders of a spell around her. It's definitely them."

Dwayne grimaces at the thought, the arrangement sounding very much like the horror stories he's heard. He thinks for a moment, before deciding on a course of action.

"I'm willing to help, but first I need to tell the others. You should come, too." He says to the werewolves, "But only you two. Not the others."

Scowling, the male werewolf thinks this over, before nodding, gesturing for the other wolves to leave, which they do so reluctantly.

"You'll need to know our names, I guess." He mutters, watching his pack members go, "I'm Trace, and this is (Y/n)."

"I'm Dwayne." The vampire nods at the two, going back to his bike, "Feel like following on? It's not too far."

"Sure."

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)

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thekidultlife · 4 years

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THE RETURN OF SUPERMAN | Lee Jihoon

Author’s Note: In the last part of TROS Jeonghan, I had mistakenly labeled Yuna as Lee Jihoon’s daughter. Please forgive me! I already edited it to lessen confusion haha. Yuna will be coming out in the next story as another member’s child, as edited. Please watch out for it, and I hope you come to love Lee Jihoon’s family in this AU, too!

NEW SERIES ALERT! While reading this fic, you will have a clue as to what series is coming next on this blog. Please watch out for it and if you see the clue, you can comment it down! :D

HYERI YOU’D BETTER READ THIS ONE!

Genre: ABSOLUTE FLUFF with traces of good ol’ angst but this is definitely a happy story so go ahead and read it!

Word count: 5,896

Lee Jihoon always had a plan. It wasn’t always written on paper or formulated to the dot (you were the one responsible for that end), but it was always there. He felt a lot better if he had things under his control. And so when he decided to enter the Return of Superman show with his friends, he wasn’t going unprepared.

Because, as he stared across at the table (mind you, sudden shivers were coming up his spine as he looked at the young toddler who looked oh so innocent—for now)…

…One could never go unprepared with Lee Yeseung.

“I mapped it out carefully, love,” he told you over breakfast. “I mapped out every single activity I am going to do with him. He’s not an easy kid, but—“

“—Who isn’t easy?” you innocently asked, eyeing your son fondly. He had his father’s eyes and the gentleness of your facial features. His pale-white skin was also his father’s, but the color of his eyes, black with a hint of brown in them, were yours. “Yeseung is a good boy, aren’t you?”

Yeseung smiled sweetly at you and giggled his cute, toddler giggle.

“You know, this child doesn’t come from my side of the family,” Jihoon taunted you as he ate. “My Yeseung is too much like you. Like mother, like son.” Jihoon was laughing to himself, pleased at making you feel pissed off early in the morning. It was a ritual he was having a hard time to break, even after five years of marriage. But when Jihoon turned his eyes to you, he stopped mid-laughter.

“What?” he said, raising both hands. “It’s true!” He pointed at his son. “Look at him! He’s hyper!”

“You are uncharacteristically talkative today,” you replied to him, your eyes narrowing. “What are you up to?”

Yeseung stared up from his bowl at his father. He was holding the bowl to his face with his hands, doing his best to quietly finish his breakfast as you had sternly told him to do. He had understood your husband’s words, and now he dropped the bowl, cereal flying all over the place as he bawled.

You stabbed your fork at a hotdog and glared daggers at your husband. “Lee Jihoon!”

Jihoon turned back to his meal. “I love you both, and I’m…” he sighed, getting up on second thought and disappearing behind to the kitchen for a minute. “I’m going to get the dishcloth.”

“I wasn’t hyper this time,” Yeseung sobbed, rubbing his eyes and putting cereal on his face. “He called me hyper again. I wasn’t hyper this time.” He wailed louder. “Why does he always call me hyper?”

You sighed and scooped the child in your arms, forgetting your breakfast. You were hoping for a quiet morning, but Jihoon just had to upset your baby again. “No, appa was just joking.”

“Yeseung-ah!” Jihoon deftly scooped up Yeseung from your arms and began smothering him with kisses. “Appa was just joking! Like we always do!”

Yeseung looked up at his appa, with tearful eyes. “I’m not hyper, right? I’m a good boy, right?”

“Exactly. A very good boy who will help appa clean up the table!”

“What activity planning were you talking about?”

Jihoon smirked at you and peppered his son with kisses. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he said quietly, as he looked straight into your eyes, his face going serious. “That’s why I was being talkative. I rarely do this with others, except you.”

You felt your whole face flush. “What activity planning were you talking about?” you repeated your question again.

Jihoon smiled nervously. “It’s for the Return of Superman show.”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: Hello everyone, my name is Lee Jihoon. I am known by many as SEVENTEEN’s Woozi. This—(he hoists little Yeseung up his lap)—is my three-year-old, Lee Yeseung. Say hi to the camera, Yeseung-ah!

YESEUNG: (Smiles at the camera shyly and then burrows into his father’s jacket.)

WOOZI: (Smiles at his son’s shyness.) Sorry, he’s still a bit camera-shy. But we’re really looking forward to enjoying ourselves on this show! And—(Laughs self-consciously and hugs his little boy close to him.)—I hope I learn more as a dad!

Q: This was asked to the other members as well: How does it feel to have a child of your own?

JIHOON: (Laughs nervously and pats Yeseung, who was squirming on his lap.) Actually, it’s nerve-wracking.

(Silence.)

JIHOON: (Looks down at his son.) You always have to brace yourself with little Yeseung here.

Boy, were we to find out.

NARRATOR: *We are now here at the Lee residence! (Cameras pan around the lavish but minimalistic penthouse of the Lee family.) And it is a beautiful morning, with no clouds in the sky to signal any rainfall. What will this day bring for Lee-appa and little Yeseung?*

6:50 A.M.

A flutter of what seemed like paper floated into Jihoon’s face. Startled, he opened his eyes and struggled to get up quickly out of bed.

Another piece of paper—no, poorly-made paper plane—floated into his face.

He closed his eyes. Took deep breaths. Tried to shake the feeling of sleepiness and called, as calmly as he could, “Yeseung-ah, where did you get all these papers?”

A giggle and a high-pitched squeal of delight was all the answer he could get.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

Lee Jihoon jumped out of bed the moment his eyes caught the paper. Groggily, and feeling a little bit off because it was still early, he reached out and snatched a paper plane zooming in toward him. When his eyes had adjusted enough, he looked at the paper. Oh, cool. His baby boy was making paper planes. What an artist! He smiled sleepily, and was about to say a word of praise to his little artist when he looked at the paper again.

Panic and stress, too early to be felt in the morning, seized his heart. He was suddenly wide awake.

Aishh, this kid!!!

Lee Yeseung, his son, was making paper planes out of his music sheets.

HIS LIFE’S WORK. HIS MUSIC SHEETS.

His mind going insane, he bounded across the room with uncharacteristic quickness (it was still early in the morning, mind you), and flung the door open. He was already beginning to panic internally. He was sure he had locked his office at the den when he went into bed at 3 a.m. He was very sure. He wouldn’t have forgotten. But he followed the paper trail—Breathe, bruh, breathe, he kept telling himself, not stopping to look at which song sheet got ripped by his little troll—and with utter disbelief, stared at his wide-open office door.

He distinctly remembered what folks kept telling him about this penthouse. “The doors, cupboards and the built-in closets are definitely (emphasis on DEFINITELY) childproof. You won’t have a problem, even if you get quintuplets running around and playing horse.”

Now, Lee Jihoon knew better. For his kid, even if he just has ONE Lee Yeseung, all the childproofing in the world would not be able to work.

“Yeseung-ah,” he gently chided, as he stared helplessly at the door and the little boy on the floor, surrounded by headsets, pens, papers, song sheets, and other stuff that he had religiously put into what he had considered “safe zones”. Now, he would be much more cautious when dealing with his boy. “What did you do?”

“Paper planes!” the kid squealed in delight, throwing another newly-made paper plane into the air. Jihoon forced himself to look away from the plane circling above them; he forced himself not to see that that was his FIRST finished lyric sheet for “Adore U”. This kid knew how to pull triggers to make his dad crazy, that’s for sure. Jihoon was doing his best not to freak out. He loved his little baby more than the song sheets. He kept telling himself that HE LOVED HIS KID MORE THAN THOSE SONG SHEETS THAT HE’D STAYED UP NIGHTS FOR. YEP. NOT FREAKING OUT.

“That…that was a piece with sentimental value…” the cameras caught Jihoon’s internally-freaking-out-I-don’t-know-how-to-handle-this-mess face, picking up the sheets that he could still salvage. The cameras also panned at the safety latches that were expertly unlatched (some were even unlatched with what looked to be like bite marks and SCISSORS), and the outlet caps that were—you guessed it—uncapped. Nothing closed remained closed. It was a good thing, though, that Jihoon’s treasure chest of other composing mementos was one with a padlock. Nothing beats a good, old padlock, he thought to himself with a sigh of relief. Not even childproof crap compared to it.

NARRATOR: *Oh, no! It looks like little Yeseung has made quite a mess! And with his dad’s most precious music sheets!*

“You won’t have a problem,” they said. “Childproof,” they said. Wow. Even with quintuplets, huh?

It took only one Lee Yeseung, Jihoon thought to himself, to unlatch three “safety” latches on his office door. Just one, bright, hyper, adorably troll-like little boy with an adorable giggle that was making his heart melt right now, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and his nappie, and holding a ripped-up song sheet entitled—OH NO.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Holds his head in his hands for a few seconds before sighing deeply). He tore up my latest work. My little boy tore up my latest work. This is so…(groans and laughs at the same time) Seriously, I don’t know what to expect of my kid anymore. He just keeps doing whatever, and…it’s…(Laughs softly now.) I don’t know how my wife manages to keep him at bay. They’re together basically fifteen hours everyday, right after work, and she always manages to teach him how to do this and that without freaking out. Now I’M freaking out. That song sheet he’d ripped up had taken me hours to write, and I’ve only finished it right before I went to bed today. I don’t know if I’d still be able to salvage it. (Looks at the camera shyly and smirks.) But this is okay for the most part. Kids sometimes do this. (Laughs sheepishly at his excuse for Yeseung’s paper plane incident.) He’s probably doing payback because I called him a “hyper kid” yesterday.

Q: Will you still be able to write that song down because he ripped up that one? We know that you also have deadlines to meet.

JIHOON: (Nods confidently.) It’s a good thing that I always put files on backup. I never write without saving data, because accidents like this could happen. But still I have to tell Yeseung (Bites back a smile) not to mess with my work again. Even though my heart just bursts when I discipline him, I really have to do it so he learns that it’s not okay to rip up sheets and make paper planes out of them. (Nods again, as if still not quite believing what happened.) Paper planes. Wow. I didn’t teach him that, but he sure knows how to make one.

NARRATOR: *We are now entering the Lee playroom, where Jihoon-appa is going to talk to little Yeseung! What will happen here? Let’s find out!*

7:00 A.M.

A very repentant little Yeseung was escorted inside the playroom. His eyes, very much like his dad's, were now looking pleadingly at his father, who was having a very hard time keeping a stern face with his son. Because he felt like bailing out on this “scolding session”, as he liked to dub it, Jihoon avoided his son’s eyes, and the cute pleas that followed as he set two little chairs facing each other.

“Appa,” Yeseung called out to him, his baby voice quivering along with his lip as he spoke. “I’m really, really sorry for making a mess. Appa. Appa.”

“I know you’re sorry,” Jihoon answered, leaning down to pick Yeseung up and to set him on one chair. Then he tried to look inconspicuous and stern as he sat down on the other one, trying not to mind the cameras and the cameramen who were watching the scene with smiles on their faces. “But we still have to talk about what happened. Now, Lee Yeseung, what did you do? Why is Appa upset?”

There was silence for a while. Jihoon wondered for a few seconds if his kid even knew what was wrong about what he did.

Then, just as he was about to give up, Yeseung, whose eyes were by this time zooming in on his train set, was scratching his head. “Um…because I made a mess?” He whispered, his lisp making the question comical. He looked at his dad questioningly.

Jihoon, looking at Yeseung, found the expression so similar to yours whenever you would look up to him to ask a question. The similarity of the expression struck him that he couldn’t help but become benevolent towards this cute little tyke. “Exactly. What kind of mess?”

“I knew it.” Suddenly, Yeseung sniffled. His bottom lip was trembling, and Jihoon was panicking again. He was NOT allowed to cry. He had ripped up his dad’s song sheets, a vital part of his dad’s source of income! Jihoon was aghast as the little boy sobbed uncontrollably. “Did I make too many paper airplanes, Appa?” He began crying uncontrollably now. “I…I thought you would like them. Th-that w-w-was wh-why I…I made them.” Yeseung hiccupped between words, his tears streaming down his red cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut.

This kid is MISSING THE POINT! Who cares if he makes a thousand of those? I wouldn’t care. I’d love it even. But the material he used to make them…Jihoon took a deep breath. “Don’t cry, Lee Yeseung,” Jihoon warned, an edge to his voice, like he had heard you do whenever you would scold Yeseung. “You messed up Appa’s office. What did Eomma and Appa tell you about messing up Appa’s office?”

“You…” Yeseung looked at him with eyes that mirrored hurt. “You…” Hiccup. “Don’t…” Hiccup. “Like…” Hiccup. “My…” Hiccup. “PAPER PLANES!!!”

“No! I like them!”

At that point. Yeseung bawled like the baby he was. “I’m…” Hiccup. “Sorry!!!” He cried again.

“It’s true. I like them!”

You were supposed to be scolding him, Lee Jihoon, Jihoon could hear you chiding, NOT giving in the minute he cries like this.

Of course, Jihoon knew that. But he just sat there, speechless for a few seconds before coming down on his knees and consoling his baby. He really couldn’t be upset with this one for long, hard as he might try! “Hey, I liked your paper planes,” he whispered gently, rubbing his boy’s back and scooping him up into his arms, walking to and from one side of the room to the other. “You did great! I liked them.”

Yeseung looked up from Jihoon’s now-wet shirt where he had burrowed his face in to study his appa’s face. “Really? You…” Hiccup. “Really…” Hiccup. “Liked it…FOR REAL?”

Jihoon nodded, relieved to see that Yeseung had stopped sobbing his hurt little heart out. “I did. But what I didn’t like about them was that you made them out of my music sheets. What did Eomma and I tell you about that?”

“I…” he sniffled. “I wasn’t supposed to tear it up like I did.”

“But you did. Now, are you going to do that again?”

Yeseung, bless his heart, wiped his tears and shook his head. His eyes, now hopefully alight again, were looking at his father. “Not ever again.”

“You promise?” Jihoon looked at his little boy with a twinkle in his eye.

“I promise,” Yeseung solemnly replied.

“That’s my boy!” Jihoon kissed him on the cheek. “How about I get the ‘I Love You’ kiss to be sure that we’re friends again?”

Yeseung’s face lit up just like that. Using his hands wetted by tears, he held his father’s face on both and kissed Jihoon on the nose to start. He began to chant this unique family ritual in his irresistibly endearing, sing-song voice. “Appa, appa, I love you!” Left cheek kiss. “I love you!” Right cheek kiss. “I love you!” Nose kiss.

Jihoon laughed and did the same. “Yeseung, Yeseung, I love you!” Left cheek kiss. “I love you!” Right cheek kiss. “I love you!” Nose kiss.

“There!” Yeseung looked at him cheekily and patted his face, as if consoling him, as if his dad were the one who did something wrong. “We’re friends again now!” Then he burrowed his face into his dad’s shirt and said something that sounded like, “I wuv youuuu”.

Jihoon just stayed like that, as if time became suspended for him. Never had he felt these unexplainable emotions inside him right now. And, as was characteristic of him, he couldn’t say a word. This feeling, with his baby boy tucked into him so snugly, was too precious for words.

Soft laughs could be heard from the cameramen, breaking his awed reverie. He smiled shyly at one camera, and exited the room, still carrying his early-morning troublemaker.

And so father and son became reconciled after the paper plane incident, happily playing around with each other and laughing, the way they always do whenever they are together.

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Smiles shyly.) I’m really happy that I got to be a part of this show. Being part of an idol group is amazing, and the companionship and the effort each of us put to make SEVENTEEN survive the challenges and achieve milestones cannot be compared to anything…but it’s true that we sometimes miss out on family life. The tours, the training, the endless engagements and other things that work requires us to do, are often at the expense of our time with our personal and family lives. I’m really thankful for shows like this, where the line between career and personal lives could be blurred for a few enjoyable days to show people that we, too, have families, and we want to spend time with them as much as we could. (Shows a picture of Yeseung.) This was taken during Yeseung’s second birthday party. He had just gotten his front teeth then, and you could see that there (points at Yeseung’s grinning mouth in the picture.)…he’s cute, isn’t he? (Laughs shyly again.) But the reason why I was showing this is because I would like to tell you that this was one of the times when I wasn’t able to make it for an important family event. It’s a good thing that my wife understands enough, loving enough, and patient enough to go on and do things even when I am not there. She has never resented me for having less time with them as I’d like. (Smiles briefly.) But here I am, and I promise myself that I will enjoy these moments with my baby.

9:00 A.M.

NARRATOR: *Little artist Yeseung is going to daycare today. Will he enjoy his day with friends today? Let’s find out!*

“THAT’S NOT A STAR!!!”

Yeseung’s eyes started to water with tears as he looked at Eunha, his girl crush since forever, glaring at him with her tiny arms crossed around her chest.

The daycare toddlers had been told by their teacher to draw shapes with different kinds of crayons and pencils, all neatly laid out on the tables. The kids, sitting patiently on their chairs and putting their creative minds to work, were seated three by three on each table. But the cameras were zoomed in on Lee Yeseung and Jeon Eunha’s table. They were supposed to have another classmate on their table, but a friend of theirs wasn’t able to come to daycare today. Cameramen smiled as they panned swiftly to Lee Yeseung, whose lower lip had started to tremble, a sure sign that he was about to cry. Again.

Beautiful Jeon Eunha, Jeon Wonwoo’s bright little baby girl, dressed in a white dress and baby blue cardigan, would not stop telling Yeseung that he had made an unusual drawing of a star. Therefore, it could not be a star.

A cameraman zoomed in on the artwork in question, and he had to agree. The huge yellow-and-orange blob in the middle of Lee Yeseung’s paper did not look like a star at first glance.

But how could we say that to such a cute little boy who looked even cuter in his navy trousers, cream-colored sweater and round-rimmed glasses? How?

“B-but it is a star,” he sobbed as he pointed at his artwork with a yellow crayon. “See? It--it even looks like it’s burning bright!”

“It’s not a star, Lee Yeseung,” Eunha insisted, her beautiful chin arched up imperiously. “Stars do not look like that!”

Yeseung cried. “Don’t fight with each other, Yeseung and Eunha,” Yoon Jae Eun wisely shouted from the other table where she was also drawing shapes with the Choi twins. “Don’t cry anymore, Lee Yeseung!”

Eunha saw that she had made Yeseung cry, and she stopped crossing her arms and sat down next to him. Embarrassed because he could not stop crying, she awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Don’t cry,” she softly consoled, “don’t cry.”

“No I don’t wanna cry,” Choi Seungjae sang from the other table. Soft laughter emanated from the cameremen’s different perches. Seriously, Choi Seungjae?

NARRATOR: *Aww, the argument between Lee Yeseung and Jeon Eunha is now ending with a warm gesture from Eunha! How cute these two are!*

“I’m sorry for making you cry,” Eunha whispered, her braids swishing as she leaned close to Yeseung. Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes, which shone fiercely a few moments ago, now looked kind. And Yeseung, seeing that his friend was being nice to him again, gave Eunha a wobbly smile.

“I can show you how to make a better star. May I?”

Yeseung nods, his eyes filled with unashamed wonder again at Eunha.

Watching from a floor-to-ceiling window facing the tables, Jihoon and Wonwoo stood watching their kids.

Lee Jihoon groaned and put his hand to his face. “Wow.”

Wonwoo looked over at Jihoon and grinned. “I told you: let’s match them up.”

“Stop that! They’re so young!” But Jihoon laughed and pressed a hand to the windowpane, his watchful eyes never leaving his son, who was now coloring with Eunha. “You’re right, though. My Yeseung likes Eunha very much.”

Wonwoo nodded wisely, very much like his daughter. “I guess he liked her from the very moment he met Eunha.”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Rubs his chin thoughtfully.) When Yeseung was about two years old, my wife and I noticed that he was having a hard time trying to speak. I thought we were just both paranoid parents since he was our first baby, but when we relayed our concerns to our family doctor, he immediately referred us to a speech-language pathologist, who confirmed our fears. This pathologist told us that Yeseung had the beginning stages of a “speech sound disorder”. Yeseung checks the box on the symptoms that this disorder is known widely for: not using consonants when babbling, using mainly vowels or resorting to gestures to communicate even at age 2...we were really--how do I put this--distraught, that our little boy could have that kind of speech impediment. But the doctor told us not to worry, and said that because we found out about Yeseung’s speech disorder earlier, we could treat it with a higher chance of success.

(Short pause as Jihoon takes a drink.)

JIHOON: We took him to a lot of individual therapy sessions for the first few months, but there were no changes. We took less hours from work as much as we could to spend more time with him. Yeseung was a bright kid. He knew that there was something wrong and I could see that he wanted to help us make him better, but he could only do so much.

(Looks lost in thought for a while.)

JIHOON: I remember thinking during that time, “My baby boy is about to attend daycare and then preschool--if we don’t have success in therapeutic treatment, he may have a hard time at school.” (Looks at his hands.) I remember nights when I would carry him in my arms at night, rock him to sleep, and then go to my wife, who would be crying silently. I would hold her close, too. Where words sound empty, gestures fill. (Smiles sadly.) It was a very hard time for her because the both of us had demanding jobs, and there are particularly hard days at work, which adds to the pressure of making sure that our child gets the love, care and attention that he needs. Sometimes, as a parent, you feel so inadequate because even though you love your child with all of your being, it’s...it’s not enough. And you have to learn to accept that you aren’t enough, and that you have to learn harder to wait. I learned that as we helped Yeseung overcome his speech sound disorder.

JIHOON: (Pauses for a while, then suddenly smiles.) Things took a turn for the better when Wonwoo and his family visited on a Monday. My wife was at work and I was the one with Yeseung then, because it was my day off. Wonwoo brought Eunha to Yeseung, and I could still remember Yeseung’s face (Gestures wildly with his hands, eyes smiling.), all bright and cheerful and all smiles--he only had his four front teeth, then! I remember that they played together a lot, and Wonwoo and I talked all afternoon about...dad stuff. (Laughs lightly.) Who knew, right? Who knew that we’d get to this point. We got married at about the same time, we had kids that are separated only by months--it was an amazing conversation that I still recall fondly.

(The cameraman nods agreement at Jihoon’s comments about how fast time flies. Jihoon gives him a high-five.)

JIHOON: But what amazed me was when we ended the day and I was carrying Yeseung, as we waved goodbye to our visitors, Yeseung shouted out, “Jeon Eunha, bye-bye!” (Looks at the camera, smiling incredulously.) If anyone could have seen my face when he said those three words. He said it clearly, without any sign of the impediment he was being treated with. I tried to make him say it again, but he looked up at me and I knew that I had to wait a little longer for him to speak clearly on his own. I didn’t have to wait longer. During dinner later that night, my wife and I were surprised. He suddenly said, “Jeon Eunha. I like Jeon Eunha.”

(Wonderment from the background of the interview. Jihoon nods, smiling and then shakes his head in disbelief.)

JIHOON: (Looks at the camera again, smirking his FAMOUS SMIRK.) To everyone who is watching, yes, it’s true. Yeseung’s first clear sentence wasn’t about his parents. (Shakes his head again.) It was about how he liked Jeon Eunha.

12:00 P.M.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

Jihoon’s piercing cry of alarm could be heard all around the whole daycare center. Cameras panned at him quickly, standing, distraught and in shock, as he watched his toddler tumble down the supposedly safe slide at the playroom, head first.

As fast as his feet could carry him, Jihoon was beside his son at once. He cradled Yeseung’s head on his lap and he checked for bumps. His heart raced inside so fast he felt like he was about to faint. He recorded today in his mind: Lee Yeseung’s first slide accident. He wanted no more accidents in the future.

“Why did you slide down like that?” he chided worriedly. He kissed Yeseung’s head over and over again and hugged his boy close to him. “You’re not allowed to slide that way again, are we clear?” When he did not get a response from the little tyke, he repeated, more firmly, “Are we clear, Lee Yeseung?”

“Hehehe.”

The gurgling giggles that only four-year-old toddlers can produce vibrated in Lee Jihoon’s chest. Surprised, he looked down at Yeseung in his arms.

Lee Yeseung wasn’t crying.

Lee Yeseung was laughing.

As in bursting to the seams with laughter.

“Lee Yeseung, I didn’t hear you reply to me. Are we clear?” Jihoon intentionally made his voice sound sterner than usual. “Are. We. Clear? Or do I have to make you face the wall like your Eomma does?”

The little lip trembled again. Jihoon thought Yeseung was about to have another crying session, but something different happened.

The trembling lip was a moment’s hesitation, in a toddler’s language.

Yeseung reached up, cupped his father’s face in his small hands, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Lee Ye--”

--another kiss on the cheek. Followed by a giggle.

“You look funny when you’re mad, Appa,” Yeseung giggled again. “Funny, funny, funny!”

“Lee Yeseung,” Lee Jihoon groaned. Again, he received a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t be mad at Yeseung anymore!”

“LEE YESEEEUNNGGGG!!!”

With that, Lee Yeseung bounded away, towards the direction where Choi Seungjae’s voice came from. His playmates were calling again.

And Lee Jihoon--while charmed and red-faced by his son’s “kiss-on-the-cheek diplomacy”--still watched worriedly. He had felt a huge bump that he knew would soon grow into a humongous one later. He knew that you would be furious the moment you see that bump on Yeseung’s forehead.

Sighing and completely resigned to his fate as a worried dad and soon-to-be-interrogated husband, he watched as Yeseung played tag with his hyper friends.

Oops. He had to remove that word from his vocabulary. He mentally slapped his head. Yeseung doesn’t like being called hyper. Yeseung won’t like it if Jihoon described his friends as hyper, too, he knew.

“I love my son,” he repeated over and over. “I love my son. I love my wife. This will be a great day.”

And of course it will be!

8:00 P.M.

NARRATOR: *We are back at the Lee Residence! Looks like little Lee Yeseung is telling his mom about his day while they are playing with his Legos. Let’s look at what they are doing!*

It was a rule in your house that Lee Yeseung will only be allowed to play with his iPad for a certain amount of hours, and with parental supervision. Nights were reserved for non-gadget games and quality time as a family.

Which is why, after dinner, cameras slowly zoomed in on Yeseung’s bedroom, where you, Jihoon and Yeseung were all sprawled on the padded floor, helping the little one play with his Lego blocks. You, of course, had your face blurred on the cameras for privacy purposes. On his small bed, tidily decorated and loud with Toy Story designs (Woody was Yeseung’s favorite cartoon character), were Yeseung’s pajamas and socks, folded neatly and waiting to be worn by their owner when bedtime approached.

You helped Lee Yeseung build a ship with his Lego blocks, and Lee Jihoon sat on one side, pen and paper in hand. He had been trying to salvage what he could still remember about his latest work, which had been torn apart and made into paper planes, now hanging on the ceiling above. Yeseung had insisted, and you had overruled Jihoon’s protestations. Jihoon had given in and helped you and Yeseung hang the paper planes onto the ceiling with different colored strings.

“Eunha and I had a fight,” Yeseung dutifully reported to you as he skilfully attached a Lego to complete the hull of the ship.

“Aww. Now that’s a story I haven’t heard about.” you said consolingly at your son before turning to Jihoon, whispering fiercely, “Was this before or after our baby got a bump on his head?”

Jihoon stopped writing. “Ouch. That hurts. I was watching him all the time when he slid the wrong way, love!”

You made faces at Jihoon and turned back to Yeseung. The ship was almost completed. “Why did you have a fight?”

“She told me that my star did not look like a star.” Yeseung’s face twisted again when he mentioned what happened, but he did not cry. “But it was a star, Eommai! I even made it burn brightly.”

You were taken by surprise at the reason for the fight and decided to be gentle. “Well...we learned about what stars look like, right? Remember? You and Eomma made stars together?”

Yeseung nodded and looked up at you with sad eyes. “I remember.”

“So…” you purse your lips. “What did your star look like?”

Yeseung immediately got up and skipped to his small drawing table, where he picked up a piece of paper. “Here, Eomma! And I promise you, it’s really a star!”

You looked at the blob of yellow on the paper and could not speak for a moment. Ah. Maybe they were learning about shapes earlier, and to everyone in the classroom, this did not look like a star shape. But you knew how Yeseung was thinking. You glanced at your son appreciatively, smiling at him.

“It is a star,” you confirmed, and Yeseung beamed at you.

By nine o’clock, after tucking Yeseung in to sleep, cameras were still trained on you and Jihoon, sitting next to your toddler’s bed.

Jihoon cleared his throat. “So...is it really a star?”

You looked at Jihoon quickly and laughed softly. Then you reached for Yeseung’s iPad on the bedside table where you were leaning.

“See for yourself.”

You opened the iPad and showed Jihoon a recent video that Yeseung had just watched. It was about the solar system and the stars.

No stars shown on the video looked five-pointed. All stars shown were balls of fire, burning brightly.

“Eunha was right when she showed Yeseung how to draw the star shape that we use in art,” you said softly, closing the iPad, “but Yeseung was thinking differently. He was picturing a real star. He knew what they really looked like and he wanted to draw it well.”

“Hence the blob.” Jihoon was holding Yeseung’s artwork. “He’s a genius.

You laughed again. “Yes. Hence the blob of burning yellow.”

You both laughed, and watched Yeseung’s deep breaths. Then you turned off the lamp. “Let’s go. He’s asleep.”

“Remind me to get padlocks for my office.”

You laughed again.

Cameras panned away from Yeseung’s room as you and Jihoon retreated to your bedroom. But, faintly, just before the scene was completed, Jihoon was heard speaking in low tones.

“Remember those thirty nights we spent together, love?”

“Shhhh! Lee Jihoon!”

Mercifully, the scene had already been completed. Lee Jihoon’s teasing laugh and your noises of protest went unrecorded and your bedroom door closed.

So there ended another night at the Lee residence.

3:04 A.M.

Or so we thought.

The soft patter of footsteps and a little figure in pajamas could be heard quietly sneaking into a forbidden part of the house.

Click.

“Let’s make boats for Eomma,” a voice sang in the dark.

An automatic light came on in the forbidden room, followed by the sound of paper being ripped. Rip, rip, rip. And singing! But you and Jihoon did not hear all the commotion happening. The cameras, though, recorded the sneaky action.

You better hope that ripping sound is not coming out of your books…

…because Lee Yeseung is about to make you a lot of boats.

EPISODES | Ep. 1 | Ep. 2 | after-party | Ep. 3 | only us | Ep. 4 | afterglow

- Admin Leanne

#seventeen #svtcreations #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #lee jihoon fluff

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the-not-so-silent-back-up · 3 years

Text

Until Full Moon

-1 -2 -3

Werwolf!(f)reader x Jaskier

note: I am reposting my own writting because I am planing to continue the Story. And I want my fic on my new Blog. And of coures a big Thank you to @the-winter-witcher for cheking my writting and @calamitycrowley , my beta-reader

description: Since a few month you are a werewolf, and you mostly hide in the woods because you know how dangerous you can become when it’s time. One day you meet Jaskier and Geralt. Unfortunately the witcher recently got the job to get rid of a werewolf. And that’s when it all begins

Chapter -2-

After a few minutes of walking you finally saw a small tent and a little fire, and another man.

"Jaskier are you getting robbed right now or who is this in your camp?"

"Oh no… that's my friend. He probably won't have a problem with you staying here overnight"

You got a closer look at the man. Tall, white hair you don't know if it's the fire or does he really have amber eyes?

"There you are finally. And you aren't alone! Who did you pick up this time"

The man had a rough deep voice.

"Hey Geralt that is Y/N I found her in the woods all alone. Y/N this is my friend Geralt of Rivia."

You reached out to shake Geralt's hand but he doesn't even look at you, he just looks at Jaskier with a really unpleasant look.

"All her stuff is gone, so I said she can eat with us and tomorrow I will help her find it again"

"And you believe that"

Jaskier turned to you again

"Come Y/N sit next to me"

And then he turns to Geralt again, you can feel that he doesn't want you here, does he know what you are. He is a Witcher you finally realised, Geralt of Rivia you heard this name in the villages you passed. Of course he knows what you are, it's his job to identify monsters like you. You can't look at him or at Jaskier. You just stare at the fire that got bigger and warm because of the new wood that the fire eats with pleasure.

You feel a touch of a hand on your shoulder. Jaskier's blue eyes are searching for yours, his look is soft and asking. You just nodded.

"I found her all alone, unconscious and naked in the woods! I don't know what happened to her but I knew that I couldn't leave her there. What would you have done? Oh mighty Witcher, who knows everything better than a stupid Bard."

Your eyes switched between the two of them, till Geralt catched your look.

"I guess shouldn't behave like that, I am sorry Y/N, it was a long day, but it's nice to meet you"

Did he just apologised? Is this a trap or something?

"It is alright"

"Yes it was a long day and Yes you are guessing right you should not behave like that towards a young lady..."

"Jaskier I already said sorry .."

"What about me?"

You chuckled a bit, but neither of them noticed.

"Oh Gods can we just eat now"

"Fine. But you owe me an apology."

"I put it on the list"

You still don't feel completely safe but you're sure the Witcher doesn't know, or at least he doesn't care. But you are grateful for the food, the fire and the company. You didn't have a real conversation since weeks or maybe months.

Conversation wasn't the right word exactly. You were listening to the stories Jaskier tells, about the adventures he and Geralt have had. Watching these two men together was a joy, they are so different and but they get along pretty well. It seems that jaskier always makes the stories a little more dangerous and exciting than it really happened, and Geralt doesn't even contradict him, he just shakes his head from time to time.

"It may can be that it didn't exactly happened that way. But it sounds better like that."

The fire burns slowly down and there was no firewood left. It has to be really late. And you can feel yourself getting tired even after your unwanted nap in the woods.

"... and then we heard these farmers talking about a wolf that is after their sheeps and cows and whatever. I immediately knew something was going on…"

Oh no

"... after the time with Geralt I knew what they were talking about has to be a werewolf…"

What would happen if you just ran away now. You couldn't look at Jaskier anymore -

"... so I informed them, that they won't find a werewolf at daytime… "

No, Geralt would know what you are if you would do that

"... at first they of course didn't believe me, but after they saw the white wolf, at least one of them knew I am right. He is good at convincing people …"

He would kill you in one second, no doubt

"... so the last one hired Geralt to hunt that werewolf. But the last full moon was last night, so we have to wait almost one month… "

Oh you are aware of that.

"... and he only will pay when Geralt brought him the head of that monster. And that's why we have to sleep here on this meadow, because we can't afford to rent a room for that long time. "

You forgot that you actually asked him why they sleep in this tent. This long time Jaskier was just talking about is actually all the time you have left alive. But does this matter. What is your life worth since you got cursed. You hide in the woods as deep as possible so the damage that you cause won't be that big. But this time you were to slow and that's the price you have to pay now. But what did you live for anyway, all of your family is gone. You don't have friends anymore they all think you are dead. You travel from town to town and hope that no one will remember you. You don't belong anywhere. Maybe this was your destiny.

In your eyesight you see Jaskier looking worried at you, because you didn't say anything.

"Geralt. You have to kill me in one month. I am the werewolf"

You feel the looks on you, but you don't care.

"No that cannot be true."

"Why should I lie to you? "

You got angry

"Only men can become werewolves"

"But I am one. Didn't you asked yourself why I lied there naked"

It's surprising that Jaskier don't say anything.

"It was because I just turned back into my human form after I ate one of the sheeps"

"But they teach us that there can only be male werewolves."

Geralt began again. You felt tears rolling down from your eyes. You aren't sure if the came from you anger or from your fear and sadness.

"But here I am. Go touch me with your silver sword if you don't believe me. Go on and see how it burns my skin."

You didn't realised that you were standing and screaming at the witcher, who was ordered to kill you. You once felt it. The silver on your skin.

"No Y/N I won't touch you with my silver sword, please sit down"

"You still don't believe me? Do you?"

"Y/N please sit down, we can talk about this"

The anger is burning in you.

"No there is nothing to talk about. I am the monster you're the witcher. That's it."

"You are not a monster"

"If you don't believe me now. You will see in a month. See you"

You turned on your heels and headed off to the woods. But you feel your left arm being pulled back. And then you feel it, first the smooth metal and then the burning hot pain caused by it. You screamed so loud you couldn't hear what Jaskier said. The pain brings you on your knees. Can see Jaskier looking at his hands in disgust.

"these damn rings" he shouts

He took of the rings as fast as he can to help you up again. You lied there weeping in the grass, holding left arm. It was only a tiny wound but it burned like hundreds.

He gently picked you up and placed you again next to him. You couldn't stop it you feel safe in his arms.

The pain is getting better and you can finally notice again what is happening around you. Geralt has a really serious face, it seems that he is thinking about what just happened. Now there can't be no doubt anymore. And Jaskier is gone searching for something.

"Y/N, I am so sorry, I didn't even knew that these were actual silver rings. Please let me take care of the wound. We have a salve for this. Please let me take care of it! I never wanted to hurt you"

You are still unable to speak. You just look at the man. He looks so worried and sorry. He means what he's saying.

Your left arm is still pressed to your body, as if this would help. But you stretch out your arm that Jaskier could see the wound. You looked at it once but you just couldn't let your eyes stay there. It looks worse than you thought. You look at Geralt, you don't know why, what the hell is he doing? He scrolls through a book.

You feel something cold touching your skin. And it burns again but different.

"Hey look at me" Jaskier must have noticed your reaction "It's alright now, it have to hurt a bit but tomorrow it will be almost gone"

You don't see what he is doing with his hands you just watch his face. He looks serious, he looks worried and concentrated about what he is doing, because of you?

"It doesn't matter. Your friend has to kill me anyways"

Jaskier looks at you pretty shocked and you're surprised too about what you just said.

"I am the werewolf, now the can't be a doubt anymore you both saw the prove."

You wanted to show the men you wound but it's already wrapped up in a clean cloth. "oh thank you" Your voice got really quite.

"But it still doesn't matter I am a dead woman, my days has been counted. My breath is limited. My life is over."

You feel the tears start streaming down your face, and what you also feel is that Jaskier is holding your hand.

"No that is not true. We will find a way to solve that problem"

"Jaskier it's not a problem. It's a curse. And how? How can you say something like."

"Because I know it. Y/N do you know what most people don't know about witchers?" he doesn't wait for your answer "They can undo curses, with some old rituals and magic. But most people don't want them to uncurse those creatures, they just want these creatures dead. And they won't pay if they undo the curse. And that's why most people don't know about this, because I don't sing about this and cause they don't want to know about this. And yes if you would have met another witcher he probably would have captured you until full moon and killed you then. But you are a lucky one because you met Geralt of rivia, he is the witcher to break your curse, he will undo it so you will have a normal life again. And he already started searching for some methods."

What you just heard was unbelievable, undo a curse you never heard of something like that before, only in fairy tales.

"But why does he do that?" is the only thing you could say.

"Because I asked him to."

Jaskier got his soft look back, as he swipe a tear from your cheek.

"But why did you do that?" it seems like it's the only sentence left.

"Because it's not fair, you deserve a better life. And because…... I like you."

You couldn't say anything. You just look down to his hand that is holding yours. This moment was something you never had before.

You both got roughly torn from that moment by the deep voice of the witcher.

"I didn't found anything here in my books, I will head to the next library tomorrow before dawn. Can I leave you here? I will be back in the evening. Don't wait with the supper for me. I don't know how long it'll take."

Geralt didn't waited for an answer, he just crawled into the small tent.

#The-not-so-silent-back-up #geralt of rivia #The witcher fic #Jaskier #The witcher Netflix #Reader fic #jaskier the bard #y/n #alina writes #jaskier x reader

18 notes · View notes

not-so-silent-back-up · 4 years

Text

Until Full Moon

werewolf!(f)reader x Jaskier

Chapter -1-

Thanks to @the-winter-witcher and @disasterjaskier for all your help

@determinedpines @merthurlocked @bispiderson @glitch-lou1min6 @lem-onlime @sbi-derman

Chapter 2

After a few minutes of walking you finally saw a small tent and a little fire, and another man.

"Jaskier are you getting robbed right now or who is this in you camp?"

"Oh no… that's my friend. He probably won't have a problem with you staying here overnight"

You got a closer look at the man. Tall, white hair you don't know if it's the fire or does he really have amber eyes?

"There you are finally. And you aren't alone! Who did you pick up this time" The man had a rough deep voice.

"Hey Geralt that is Y/N I found her in the woods all alone. Y/N this is my friend Geralt of Rivia."

You reached out to shake Geralt's hand but he doesn't even look at you, he just looks at Jaskier with a really unpleasant look.

"All her stuff is gone, so I said she can eat with us and tomorrow I will help her find it again"

"And you believe that"

Jaskier turned to you again "Come Y/N sit next to me"

And then he turns to Geralt again, you can feel that he doesn't want you here, does he know what you are.

He is a Witcher you finally realised, Geralt of Rivia you heard this name in the villages you passed. Of course he knows what you are, it's his job to identify monsters like you. You can't look at him or at Jaskier. You just stare at the fire that got bigger and warm because of the new wood that the fire eats with pleasure.

You feel a touch of a hand on your shoulder. Jaskier's blue eyes are searching for yours, his look is soft and asking. You just nodded. "I found her all alone, unconscious and naked in the woods! I don't know what happened to her but I knew that I couldn't leave her there. What would you have done? Oh mighty Witcher, who knows everything better than a stupid Bard."

Your eyes switched between the two of them, till Geralt catched your look. "I guess shouldn't behave like that, I am sorry Y/N, it was a long day, but it's nice to meet you"

Did he just apologised? Is this a trap or something? "It is alright"

"Yes it was a long day and Yes you are guessing right you should not behave like that towards a young lady..."

"Jaskier I already said sorry .."

"What about me?" You chuckled a bit, but neither of them noticed.

"Oh Gods can we just eat now"

"Fine. But you owe me an apology."

"I put it on the list"

The fire burns slowly down and there was no firewood left. It has to be really late. And you can feel yourself getting tired even after your unwanted nap in the woods.

"... and then we heard these farmers talking about a wolf that is after their sheeps and cows and whatever. I immediately knew something was going on…"

Oh no.

"... after the time with Geralt I knew what they were talking about has to be a werewolf…"

What would happen if you just ran away now. You couldn't look at Jaskier anymore.

"... so I informed them, that they won't find a werewolf at daytime… "

No, Geralt would know what you are if you would do that.

"... at first they of course didn't believe me, but after they saw the white wolf, at least one of them knew I am right. He is good at convincing people …"

He would kill you in one second, no doubt.

"... so the last one hired Geralt to hunt that werewolf. But the last full moon was last night, so we have to wait almost one month… "

Oh you are aware of that.

"... and he only will pay when Geralt brought him the head of that monster. And that's why we have to sleep here on this meadow, because we can't afford to rent a room for that long time."

You forgot that you actually asked him why they sleep in this tent. This long time Jaskier was just talking about is actually all the time you have left alive.

But does this matter. What is your life worth since you got cursed. You hide in the woods as deep as possible so the damage that you cause won't be that big. But this time you were to slow and that's the price you have to pay now. But what did you live for anyway, all of your family is gone. You don't have friends anymore they all think you are dead. You travel from town to town and hope that no one will remember you. You don't belong anywhere. Maybe this was your destiny.

In your eyesight you see Jaskier looking worried at you, because you didn't say anything.

"Geralt. You have to kill me in one month. I am the werewolf" You feel the looks on you, but you don't care.

"No that cannot be true."

"Why should I lie to you?" You got angry

"Only men can become werewolves"

"But I am one. Didn't you asked yourself why I lied there naked" It's surprising that Jaskier don't say anything. "It was because I just turned back into my human form after I ate one of the sheeps"

"But they teach us that there can only be male werewolves."Geralt began again.

You felt tears rolling down from your eyes. You aren't sure if the came from you anger or from your fear and sadness. "But here I am. Go touch me with your silver sword if you don't believe me. Go on and see how it burns my skin."

You didn't realised that you were standing and screaming at the witcher, who was ordered to kill you.

You once felt it. The silver on your skin.

"No Y/N I won't touch you with my silver sword, please sit down"

"You still don't believe me? Do you?"

"Y/N please sit down, we can talk about this"

The anger is burning in you. "No there is nothing to talk about. I am the monster you're the witcher. That's it."

"You are not a monster"

"If you don't believe me now. You will see in a month. See you" You turned on your heels and headed off to the woods.

But you feel your left arm being pulled back. And then you feel it, first the smooth metal and then the burning hot pain caused by it. You screamed so loud you couldn't hear what Jaskier said. The pain brings you on your knees. Can see Jaskier looking at his hands in disgust. "these damn rings" He shouts He took of the rings as fast as he can to help you up again.

You lied there weeping in the grass, holding left arm. It was only a tiny wound but it burned like hundreds. He gently picked you up and placed you again next to him. You couldn't stop it you feel safe in his arms.

"Y/N, I am so sorry, I didn't even knew that these were actual silver rings. Please let me take care of the wound. We have a salve for this. Please let me take care of it! I never wanted to hurt you"

You are still unable to speak. You just look at the man. He looks so worried and sorry. He means what he's saying. Your left arm is still pressed to your body, as if this would help. But you stretch out your arm that Jaskier could see the wound. You looked at it once but you just couldn't let your eyes stay there. It looks worse than you thought.

You look at Geralt, you don't know why, what the hell is he doing? He scrolls through a book. You feel something cold touching your skin. And it burns again but different.

"Hey look at me" Jaskier must have noticed your reaction "It's alright now, it have to hurt a bit but tomorrow it will be almost gone"

You don't see what he is doing with his hands you just watch his face. He looks serious, he looks worried and concentrated about what he is doing, because of you?

"It doesn't matter. Your friend has to kill me anyways"

Jaskier looks at you pretty shocked and you're surprised too about what you just said. "I am the werewolf, now the can't be a doubt anymore you both saw the prove." You wanted to show the men you wound but it's already wrapped up in a clean cloth. "oh thank you" Your voice got really quite.

"But it still doesn't matter I am a dead woman, my days has been counted. My breath is limited. My life is over." You feel the tears start streaming down your face, and what you also feel is that Jaskier is holding your hand.

"No that is not true. We will find a way to solve that problem"

"Jaskier it's not a problem. It's a curse. And how? How can you say something like."

What you just heard was unbelievable, undo a curse you never heard of something like that before, only in fairy tales. "But why does he do that?" is the only thing you could say.

"Because I asked him to." Jaskier got his soft look back, as he swipe a tear from your cheek.

"But why did you do that?" it seems like it's the only sentence left.

"Because it's not fair, you deserve a better life. And because.... I like you."

You couldn't say anything. You just look down to his hand that is holding yours. This moment was something you never had before.

You both got roughly torn from that moment by the deep voice of the witcher.

Geralt didn't waited for an answer, he just crawled into the small tent.

#Not-so-silent-back-up #jaskier x reader #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher fic #The witcher Netflix #reader fic #Y/N #jaskier the bard #werewolf

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sunflower-swan · 4 years

Text

Wolfstar Chapter 1

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius.

Day 1 Prompt: Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop AU

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1318

Tags: smoking, language

Chapter One

Remus

Randy Newman “You’ve Got a Friend in Me”

If you've got troubles, I've got 'em too

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

We stick together and can see it through

'Cause you've got a friend in me

“Missed you at the Potter’s Wheel.” Remus handed a steaming cup of coffee -- black with cream, no sugar -- to the younger man. He had grown accustomed to their morning coffee ritual, so he had worried when the other didn’t show up that day.

A bearded face peeked around the large floral arrangement. His grey eyes widened and then looked down at his watch. “Shit. I’m sorry,” Sirius apologized and accepted the cup. “We’re a little swamped at the moment,” he chuckled.

Remus looked around the Flower Loft. It didn’t seem any more crowded with floral arrangements than usual. In fact, it looked as it always did. The same cooler containing premade arrangements stood along the wall near the door -- for those spontaneous or impulsive people. Small tables containing other trinkets and tokens for sale dotted the wood floor. He couldn’t see anything different or out of place.

He looked back at Sirius. “So everything’s ok then?”

“Everything’s fine except I have two florists out sick this week, plus one on her honeymoon, which means I’m coming in early and working late this week to get our orders done on time.”

Remus noticed the dark bags under his friend's young eyes and worried that his ambition might be greater than his ability. “I grabbed a couple takeaway sandwiches, too.” He held up the wrapped sandwiches. “You need a break. Come on.” He took a sip of his mocha cappuccino and headed for the door.

Sirius followed him out the door and down the sidewalk. Remus stopped at a bench under the shade of an oak tree and they both sat down.

“Ham or chicken?” Remus asked.

“Mmm, chicken!”

He passed the container with the chicken sandwich inside, and Sirius ripped into the package.

“Fank ‘oo,” he said through a mouthful of sandwich. Swallowing the bite he asked, “What would I do without you, Remus?”

“Learn to take care of yourself, I imagine.” Remus chuckled to himself. If only that were possible. Or if only I could learn to let you.

Sirius stretched his legs out with a sigh, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Silas doesn’t like me working all these hours.”

Ah, yes. Silas. Remus scarcely avoided rolling his eyes.

Silas was Sirius’ younger boyfriend who was studying something to do with animals. Remus wasn’t really sure because Sirius had never been very forthcoming with the details of his boyfriend’s profession. Over the last couple months in which their relationship had grown more serious, he had tried really hard to be nice to the young man despite the significant instinct he felt to be anything but.

Preferring to avoid Silas conversation, he gave Sirius a noncommittal, “Hm?” through his mouthful of ham sandwich. Even if he also thought Sirius was working too hard, he wasn’t going to admit out loud that he agreed with Silas.

“Yeah. Between his work stuff and me at the Flower Loft, it doesn’t leave much time or energy for … you know, boyfriend stuff.” Sirius shrugged and took another bite of sandwich.

Oh, Godric. Boyfriend stuff?! Remus was in agony. This was neither the time, nor the place to contemplate Sirius and…‘boyfriend stuff.’ How can I steer this subject away from Silas?

“Hem,” he coughed. “So, how’s the guitar playing?”

“Oh, man!” Sirius leaned forward with enthusiasm. “It’s awesome! Difficult as hell, but awesome!”

“What are you working on right now?” Remus inquired. He was eager to keep the conversation on a safe subject. Music was one of the few things, apart from floristry, in which Sirius had a true passion.

“‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis.”

And off Sirius went on a long-winded explanation about the ins and outs of music, and chord shapes, and who knew what else. Remus didn’t understand half of what Sirius said, but he enjoyed listening. Watching the way Sirius’ eyes would light up; the way his hand gestures would grow more wild when he got over-excited; the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled...Remus liked it when Sirius was happy.

He was in awe of this warm and sweet man. Regardless of the tingle he felt inside himself anytime he was in close proximity to Sirius, he buried those feelings. It was safer that way. For both of them.

Sirius finished his sandwich in between pauses, and lit up a cigarette.

“That shit is terrible for you,” Remus admonished him for the millionth time.

“That’s what you keep telling me,” Sirius responded, blowing a puff of smoke up and away, so as to not offend Remus’ sensitivities.

It didn’t help. His senses were more delicate than the average person.

Sirius stood up and stretched his hands over his head. The front hem of his shirt came untucked from his jeans, and a sliver of tan abdomen was visible. Remus felt himself flush and he looked away.

“Thanks for the break, Remus. I have to get back though.” Sirius gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Flowers won’t arrange themselves, unfortunately.”

Remus nodded and looked at his watch as he stood. “I have an appointment coming in about ten minutes anyway, so I need to get back too.”

“What are you working on today?” Sirius asked as they began the walk back to their respective shops.

“Finishing a sleeve for an Irish fella. Started it almost a year ago.”

The pair reached the Loft. “Maybe one day I’ll let you do me,” Sirius said with a playful smirk.

Phrasing. “You figure out what you want, and let me know,” Remus responded as level as possible.

Sirius barked a laugh and opened the door to the shop. “See you later, Remus.”

Remus waved good-bye and went next door to his tattoo parlor. Once inside he shut the door and leaned his forehead against it.

“Fucking hell.”

Remus banged his head a few times against the door, hoping against hope that he could knock some sense into his skull. Does he say shit like that on purpose? Taking a breath, Remus stood up straight, and pulled his wand out of his jacket pocket. He checked that the gold suede curtains were pulled closed over the front bay window and gave a complicated wave of his wand. His tattooing equipment sprang to life and set themselves up just how he liked.

Even though Remus had chosen a corner of Muggle London to set up his shop, in no way did it mean he had abandoned magic. Separating himself from the magical world wasn’t without its drawbacks, and he had to be more careful about not breaking the Statue of Secrecy, but the change had been necessary. It wasn’t too bad now he was accustomed to it.

~~~~~

The afternoon passed without incident. The Irishman’s last sleeve session lasted a good couple hours, and Remus was proud of the finished product. He had a couple walk-ins later on, but nothing came of them. Slow day overall.

He was leaned back in a chair with his feet propped on the desk, flipping through the latest issue of Inked, when Sirius came through the door.

“You made a tattoo decision then? That was quick,” Remus joked.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “No. I came to see if I could buy you a bite from Potter’s.” Sirius shifted his feet with his hands in his pockets and looked down. “You got me some earlier and all.”

Remus studied the younger man. Why did he seem … embarrassed? Shy? “You don’t owe me for that,” he replied, with a wave of his hand. Remus closed the magazine and stood up.

“Well, then I want to.” Sirius smiled at Remus now. “My treat.”

Remus shrugged. “All right,” he said. “It’s been slow as hell here today anyway. Let’s go see what specials James and Lily have today.”

Remus locked the door to the tattoo parlor and the pair walked across the street to the Potter’s Wheel Cafe.

A/N: The name of Sirius’ flower shop comes from the name of the flower shop in my hometown. The Flower Loft was on Main Street, which wasn’t actually named “Main Street.” It was one of two highways that intersected the small town in which I went to public school, and made some of my life-long best friends. “Main Street” was the “main drag” -- as we small town folks say -- and it was where 90% of the town's businesses resided. This chapter is dedicated to my first friend: my little sister. She is not only my sister, a mother to my two adorable nephews, and sender of spicy Harry Potter memes. She is also my number one beta reader. Our perfectionist and competitive spirits were bred into us and she doesn’t let me get away with crap writing. I love ya, Sis! Thanks for reading my words.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #alternate universe

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theangrypokemaniac · 4 years

Note

its fine if you dont like alola but can you not make incest jokes?

I'm not joking. I'm serious.

Alola, or, as I prefer, La Boca del Infierno, ain't all sunshine and smiles as it pretends. Beneath that plastic exterior lies true darkness.

What am I meant to think when I see this?

There's swimming pools bigger than the gene pools down their way!

Although described as 'twins', it's really triplets, but Lana suffers a prematurely ageing growth abnormality.

Children I expect to bear a similarity to their parents, but the moms 'n' dads ain't meant to look like each other!

Everyone here has blue barnets and Inside-Out Eye, where the pupil's the white and the white's the pupil.

Sight defects are notorious in the 'close-knit' communities.

Each insists on hair decoration, but it's almost part of their heads, which you can call bad animation or deformity resulting from too much intermarriage.

Momma's 'thing' just resembles lumps.

It's them space ticks at it again.

Even the hedgehog is round in this house, which may imply he's an illegitimate offspring of one of 'em.

What about inbreeding suggests practitioners won't stoop to even greater infamy?

Stufful's dad never arrived did he?

Funny that, and a bachelor like Oakie-Dokie residing nearby knew nothing about it.

All that bathing in Cuprenol does terrible things to a man.

Ever wondered what'd go down in the marriage of Tweedledum and Tweedledee? Well here you are, yer deviant.

A pair of pudding-faced, gormless Cabbage Patch Dolls, each with snouts, black button eyes and glandular issues, and they don't share DNA even when they do?

Oh yes, Lusamine met a total stranger also possessing her lime pies and effusive mane of unruly, ice-blonde slats.

Total coincidence there.

He came to Alola, he says. On a prison ship.

It's just one head in triplicate!

Oversized an' all: sure sign of genetic tomfoolery.

Dot Nose, Bridge Nose, Fish Eye: bloody serious case we have on our hands.

Now you understand why she failed to remarry: no other brothers cuts yer options ter nil.

Incest is of course, relative.

Whatever dæmon they worship, some are more pious about it than their fellow perverts.

The more dedicated the believer, the greater insistence on keeping things running in the family.

They'll show off their interwoven connections to the neighbours in a smug game of one-upmanship.

The more lapsed follower will tolerate copulation with distant kin.

These sinners are naturally despised and forced into menial labour, whereas the fanatics just so happen to be rolling in wealth.

Consider:

• Lana's family get by on a fisherman's salary, apparently.

Yeah, yeah, as if the state doesn't have to subsidise their medical bills.

• Sophocles don't go hungry, he has a lab, a giant hamster wheel, a portable hologram in a Pikachu, and he's so rich he not only had the roof fixed, but can move down the road in the meantime.

Oi! The rest of us get by putting a bucket under the leak!

• Lillie has every material possession possible, but no spine or company.

Oh the irony that top sickos should be so resistant to the lure of family obligation.

Hey, yer didn't say that earlier!

• Lusamine is fawned upon for her pwehshush research to the extent she can abandon her children, turning her daughter into a nervous wreck and her son a moody, absent drifter, and it's up to them to understand her work comes first.

• Mohn (by name and nature) fannied about with worm holes until he got sucked off by another dimension.

What did yer think would happen?

Yet on his return, is he knocked on his arse as he deserves?

No, because of incest privileges. The in-group take care of their own, and worse.

Mallow's mater and pater both share hair, thick brows and close-together peepers of murky green.

The contrast in noses suggests something lesser than siblings, but then again other differing aspects are forgivable.

She is of a lighter pallor, being dead, and wanting an open coffin, had a shave beforehand, which is a frightening nod to morality.

Woman, are you ashamed of our love?

Well Abe went along with it, thus is also culpable of this grotesque bristle denial.

Being unclean, he's gotta cook the dinner.

And this lot milk the cows.

On the surface, Kiawe's old 'uns aren't identical. You might think some heretical decency has finally sneaked in under the oppressive Alola regime, but it ain't that simple.

These people pray to a volcano as if an earthbound deity, so are nutters.

One aspect you must remember:

Ol' Granpappy the Island Kakuna, i.e. a dried-up chrysalis.

'Cause Pappy got Momma's tufts...

And Dadda's humourless mouth, oblong head, straight-line nose, rectangular eyes and pin pupils.

Well that's not how it's s'posed to go!

I'm thinking Granpappy, as one of them there Kakunas, is in a position of power high enough that he's able to wilfully flaut the laws he imposes on others, like how popes had kids in the Good Old Days and no one took a blind bit o' notice.

He's a rebel I tells yer.

He don't play by the rules.

No sister-wife for him.

Not when he's got a sexy cousin a-waitin'.

A little bit of new blood's crept in, disgracefully so, that's why the whole lot's punished by living near an active volcano.

Surrender 'em to the flames!

Kiawe makes such a big deal about Pappy, and sod the other three grandparents.

Except he only had two!

What is the explanation?

1. Bone-idle writing team.

Character design is foundational stuff. If yer can't even be arsed to do that properly, nothing you do is worthwhile.

I mean, come on, repeating the same model that blatantly?

Halfwits so limited in imagination shouldn't be working in any creative industries.

I blame modern diets.

A whole generation's grown up timid and risk averse because they were taught to fear E. numbers as kids.

I make it a rule to suspect any sod unaware of the joy of a blue tongue.

They've never lived, man!

Where did you think it'll end when dangerous, pretend edibles like houmous, avocados and quinoa replace the wholesome, nourishing fare of biscuits, cake and crisps?

Stop toying with the fundamental principles of the universe!

The mess of the modern era screams systematic abuse of too much kale and not enough sugar.

2. Incest

Alola is extremely insular.

It's implied to be a tourist destination, but no amount of degenerate outside influence appears to have diluted the weird customs it still upholds.

They didn't even think of starting a League until Ash turned up with all his wild exoticism, and why's that?

A. Inbreeding has destroyed their capability for innovation.

B. Many thousands of years ago, Alola got well annoyed its dirty habits weren't exactly catching on as it strove to spread the Satanic message.

Thoroughly confounded in its plans for world conquest, Alola shut itself off in a purification ritual, which is why later developments popular elsewhere, such as replacing beasts of burden with machines, never caught on.

3. Alola isn't Hawaii, it's a combination of Australia, a penal colony, and Crete, where lived the lepers.

Specifically it's a dumping ground for all the regions' sex offenders to keep their own societies clean.

Of course, the guilty took their nearest and dearest along too, since they were on the receiving end, and loved it.

This explains the large amount of foreign Pokémon, since the owners are also from abroad.

Now I think 'anging's too good for 'em, but these wet-willy countries insist on storing up trouble for themselves, for if cinema has taught us anything, it is that mutants will always escape.

Nature finds a way, however abominable.

Since so many on Tumblr simply love Alola, they aren't about to admit the slightest weakness in the creators' abilities.

Therefore, incest is the acceptable answer to all and sundry.

#pokémon #lana #lana's parents #sophocles #sophocles's parents #lillie #lusamine #mohn #mallow #mallow's mom #abe #kiawe #sima #rango #kiawe's grandfather #alola #inbox

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plusultratm · 3 years

Photo

NSFW Headcanons [ Drink you Sober playing in the distance ]

Waiting for promps? Not in this neighborhood, we got no chill. Rosario’s got no chill, and The Pink Lady wanting some featuring time in y’all’s dashboard, so here they are... Never mind that they’re late, they’re here. Things might be elaborated on later on, cheers.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Rosario enjoys being affectionate whenever possible; aka when she’s slept with someone she cares about, or that she feels would like it. She can usually tell through the time spent in the act, and she’ll deliver without them having to ask. If her partner falls asleep, she might feel inclined to rest by their side, help along with their slumber by running her fingers through their hair or along their sides, humming softly, and of course allow them to cuddle up to her and hold her.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She loves her chest. She wasn’t as big of a fan when she was younger but she has come to like it a lot. Her clothes aren’t too revealing but it’s clear she knows it’s one of her best assets and she’s not embarrassed by it. In her partners she enjoys hands a lot. Had her husband, Yuudai, not had nice hands to her standards, perhaps they wouldn’t have dated, and that might seem arbitrary to some but hands tell Rosario all she needs to know about anyone who potentially hopes to enter her life.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

When I say she’ll take it, I mean she’ll take it :). Safe sex takes a priority in her life, however, so she’ll only do that within committed relationships; which... hasn’t really happened since Yuudai’s passing.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not sure how big of a dirty secret this could be but in her relationship with her husband she was always, exclusively, the submissive half of their dynamic. Not to say she didn’t enjoy it, she did, she likes it and will more often than not choose that for herself, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to do differently... at some point.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Rosario definitely knows what she’s doing, having spent a few years married to a pro hero and having seen some more people down the line, she’s had her fair share of experience. Her marriage was certainly not a boring one, and despite the amount of work each of them had, they hardly ever spent much time apart. Yuudai and her lived to have each other on edge and she’s tried to keep that in consideration for new partners. All sex is a give and take situation, even if sometimes she people she is with don’t seem to know that themselves. She normally goes for people who are older than her.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary. Good ole’ missionary. For no other reason than being able to see and be seen, not to mention everything is within reach, and she very well likes feeling her partner’s weight and shape pressing her down against whatever surface they’re currently in. Similarly, she’s into the cowgirl position as well. Basically anything that makes her feel like things are deeper than they actually could be. She cheats herself most every time she sleeps with someone, unless she expresses otherwise; more than anything with friends.

Nothing like sex to strengthen the bond, eh?

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

She used to be a lot more humorous and open to goofiness when she was married. Now, however, she sees sex as a pretty serious affair. After all, the way she sees it there should be no space for anything to go wrong; this isn’t someone she’s seeing frequently, after all.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpet very much matches the drapes (even the rest of her body hair has a peach tint to it ). For her own comfort she keeps the area trimmed short. She’s shaped it in the past but doesn’t feel particularly strongly about it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

No matter whether she’s taking the dominant or the submissive role, Rosario is affectionate throughout. She enjoys feeling the other person’s closeness, so whatever is happening, she tries to make sure they don’t pull away too far from her. Rosario is either always wrapping her legs or her arms around them, making sure not to break eye or physical contact. She’s found it doesn’t feel as pleasurable if not everything from the other person is invested. Sure! It doesn’t have to carry a romantic intent, but she wants to feel wanted, since, as far as she knows, it’s what she does for whoever she’s with at the moment.

It’s a matter of her being all over them and wanting them to be all over her in return.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

She’s more likely to do it if her partner or significant other are in near proximity. She’s a huge tease, so this plays part of that as well. Big fan of the “You can watch, but you can’t touch” approach.

It’s not to say she won’t do it just for the sake of it; she will if she needs to let out some steam (which will happen, inevitably; her job isn’t the easiest), but she prefers having company over if the need arises.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Clothed sex. Dirty talking. Roughness. Possessiveness. Daddy kink. Mommy kink.

* clearing throat *

This woman is a switch, or rather she’s experimenting with it and liking it so far, in case that wasn’t clear enough already.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Number one and general answer. would be the comfort of her own home or her partner’s place. Most of the time she’s big on privacy and is only interested in sharing the moment with her current person without fearing. That being established, Rosario doesn’t really mind: Beds, walls, floors, carpets, counters, chairs, couches, sofas, she’s game for wherever she lands on.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Stress, basically. A rough hand if you will. There’s another side to it, when the itch is not as itchy, with whispering, small touches, barely caresses, being spoken to really softly, close proximity; as in when she’s somewhere talking to someone and without even noticing the space between them has closed off by how attracted they are to one another. She’s always too happy to entertain the chemistry when it feels right.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Weird positions that the other person clearly pulled out of a porno are a no. Anything she’s previously said no to being tried again are a no. Backdoor *ehem* sex is a no. Certain bodily fluids are also a no.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Both, she enjoys doing both. She’ll gladly do it for a little while, because she likes it and she wants to make sure her partner’s having a good time, not just getting herself off. She highly dislikes having someone trying to push her head down as if trying to coax he into it; she’ll do it if she feels like it, but that’s one way to ensure she won’t want to do it. Congrats, you played yourself.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Who is she with and where is she?, Can she take her time with what she’s doing until they’ve been edging themselves for God knows how long?, Has she been mad at this person, have they done something good, something bad?

What exactly went down before the do came to be to influence her decision? Hell, sometimes it might not be a conscious decision, but let’s just say she has no blatant preference. Circumstances will tell.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Heat of the moment is her preference. In any other moment, even if tension is palpable, but nothing has happened as a potential trigger, she prefers to save it for a more proper setting, if that makes sense. She’s only ever had quickies with people she couldn’t stand at first.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Her entire job and career path involves her thinking outside of the box and taking risks. Of course she’s happy to experiment in her intimate life, as well. Most of the time she’s doing stuff she’s feeling curious about, but if someone asks, and she’s in a proper enough mood, more often times than not, she’ll be game to try things out. And... if only because it feels fair and she always wants to make sure before she agrees or fully rejects something, she’ll try everything twice.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Rosario enjoys going for a few rounds, more than two, whenever possible. She won’t hold it against the person she’s with if they’re not capable.

Meeting other people taught her just how different everyone can be, so she’s not about to judge someone over something as fundamentally intimate such a sexual habits, prowess, or openness. Physical intimacy is offering oneself in the most vulnerable of ways possible, why make it unpleasant?

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Rosario has been a widow who lives all on her own for quite some time now. On top of that, she sometimes doesn’t feel like calling one of her friends or going out for that matter.

Of course this woman owns toys. Not all of them were obtained due to being a widow, however.

Back when she worked at home in her own workshop she had plenty of time to call her husband while he was on breaks... it made for an interesting part of her teasing rituals, which were extensive sometimes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Huge tease. When her husband was still around the teasing wasn’t for an immediate thing, no, it usually lasted for days, and it usually went unnoticed by others. WHY YES, Rosario loved teasing Yuudai until the inevitable happened; which usually involved her being a brat and feigning not wanting him for a good minute before they ended... wherever they landed at the time.

As a single woman she still enjoys being a tease but the game will obviously not take as long if she’s looking for a one night stand. She has a few somewhat steady partners with whom she can play into what she enjoys the most, but she doesn’t see them often.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Rosario is usually not a loud lover; whimpers, small and contained moans, panting, little squeals of encouragement or her partner’s name will come through but no screaming or crying put from her.

Notice how I said usually.

With more out there partners that are demanding she will comply to whatever they ask of her; mainly because if she’s lucky she won’t have any other choice but to obey.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Underwear. Obvious answer, but I could’ve said she went commando 👀 .

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Rather high. Depends on several things, but it usually peaks during stressful times. She’ll deal with complaints or having to work extra hours on something she can’t figure out right away and she’ll suddenly get the pang that she needs it. As a single woman she’s had no problems getting partners to try and scratch that itch, but it’s needless to say it’s not as easy to find someone who will properly satisfy said need.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She doesn’t immediately fall asleep, it takes a little while, about ten to fifteen minutes before she finally does. Depending on the person she might just get up, clean up and leave.

This also depends on how long they spent in the lovey dovey, but in general she’s not a fast sleeper.

#『 ❛ 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐈 ❜ 《 ☆ 》 rosario ⤿ headcanons 』#『 ❛ 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐈 ❜ 《 ☆ 》 rosario 』#Here. Take this.

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miss-m-calling · 3 years

Text

Chocolate Box 2021 letter

Dear writer,

Hello and thank you for writing for me!

I’m Miss_M on AO3. For all requests, I am asking for fic.

My requests this year are: American Gods (TV), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV), Starred Up (2013 movie), Witchblade (TV), and Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

General likes:

-pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories

-character-driven as well as plot-driven stories

-fics which mix humor and angst/serious business (when this fits the canon)

-characters at work and play

-group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too

-irony, snark, humor, angst -- all arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in

-linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories

-hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, “everything is awful but you’re here and maybe I don’t entirely hate that” endings

-worldbuilding

-spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, tough characters with (maybe not so well) hidden vulnerabilities, characters who are their own worst enemies, characters who manage to get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other, characters who may not be exactly friends and may well irritate one another but manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise/reluctance/discomfort), characters who just cannot get along with each other or find common ground

-workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters get to be competent

Shippy and smutty likes:

-(where it fits the characters) banter

-competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved)

-”oh god why did it have to be you what did I do to deserve this“

-”come here and say it to my face/do that again/kiss me, you motherfucker”

-bickering yet loving couples

-characters who are serious about their romantic interests

-characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are

-characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed

-fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping

-characters who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, or there has been betrayal!!!), and while they love and/or want each other, they’re not willing to change sides or abandon/compromise their identity/beliefs for the other’s benefit

-I don’t know how better to phrase this than: smut which fits the characters; how does their canon dynamics spill over into hubba hubba stuff?

-sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves

-sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition or antagonism

-"this is a bad idea but we’re going for it hammer and tongs”

-not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not

-characters getting way more into the sex or being more affected by it than they thought they would

-quick and intense sex, slow and intense sex, rough yet willing sex (when it fits the characters), unexpectedly emotional and/or tender sex

-masturbation while thinking of the other half of the ship (or not wanting to think about them only oops there they are in the fantasy!)

-first time sex

-established relationship, we-know-each-other-so-well sex

-”we’ve both wanted this and now we both know it so here we go diving in headfirst” sex

-for het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) -- all is good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.

Ship/smut DNWs:

MPREG, A/B/O, knotting D/s, formalized BDSM, painful sex, hard kinks (holding someone down playfully, hair pulling and such like, the odd spank are a-OK) scat, watersports knife/gun/blood play incest deaging/infantilization, mommy/daddy kink under-16yos in sexual situations humiliation body distortion/horror (feeding/weight kink, come inflation, vore, etc.) unrequested ships/pairings soulmates and soul marks pregnancy and children (can be mentioned if canon, just don’t make the whole fic about them) wedding setting/theme secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job xeno, tentacles, bestiality noncon/dubcon

Other DNWs:

torture and abuse (this and noncon/dubcon can be mentioned, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it) descriptions of vomit, shit, and piss (”He pissed up against a tree” and the like is fine), toilet humor lots of gore/blood (mention it, yes; lovingly describe it, no), cannibalism, serious illness or injury character bashing genderswap/genderbent characters, characters as kids/young teens issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons death of requested characters hopeless, unrelenting gloom/angst/horror RL holiday setting/theme, RL religions as a major theme (invented fictional holidays and rituals are fine) reference to RL current events 1st and 2nd person POV unrequested crossovers or fusions AUs which have nothing to do with canon fic written in lapslock

FANDOMS:

American Gods (TV)

Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it, not to mention the upped shippiness in S2. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back. And the way that their New Orleans adventure makes clear they have feelings for each other but neither wants to admit it. And and and… yeah, I just love them.

Even if some of my prompts are about stuff that’s addressed or hinted at in canon, feel free to diverge – canon divergences and canon-adjacent stories are my jam, as are missing scenes and post-canon stories! Also, I’ve read the book, so feel free to riff on that if you want.

Canon-specific DNWs: Laura as Essie or Sweeney's wife's reincarnation/descendant or lots of comparing her to them, Sweeney staying dead, any S3 spoilers.

Exception to blanket DNW about blood/gore/bodily fluids: describing the physical decay of the living undead (undead? there but for the grace of magic coins dead?) is fine!

Prompts:

-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved.

-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me [again], you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.

-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...) Or later when she straight-up says she’s going to kill Wednesday, but is warned to bring power with her when she does, how does that work? How else might she damage Wednesday or ruin his plans, just in case she can’t actually kill him?

-At the end of S2, Laura hoists Sweeney’s dead body over her shoulders and strides off, seemingly leaving Cairo, Shadow, and all of it behind. Tell me what happens then – does she use Baron Samedi’s potion to bring him back, and whose is the blood filled with love she uses (does she still bleed? You could get creative here, worldbuilding is also my jam)? Does her/his coin play a part – and how come the coin still “powers” Laura despite Sweeney’s death? Does she bring him back another way, maybe figuring out how to keep herself around and be able to give Sweeney back his coin? Does he come back like she did, more undead than alive, or does his godhead, however depleted, help with that? That still leaves Laura to be fully resurrected too… Or does something completely out of left field happen – surprise me!

-Possible divergences from “Treasure of the Sun”: Sweeney manages to kill Wednesday, and then Laura rolls up, and then…? Or Laura rolls up and makes like Mama-Ji told her – destroys some motherfuckers? Or Sweeney gets killed temporarily but Laura brings him back, or brings herself back, or does something else with the Baron’s potion, and is Sweeney’s blood the one filled with love, or can we interpret voodoo spells in a non-literal way? Or what happens with Gungnir hidden in Sweeney’s hoard? And definitely how do they deal with each other once they meet up in Cairo, given how they parted in New Orleans?

-Or how about a wild divergence from the last several episodes of S2? Sweeney and Laura manage to settle their differences (ahem, more fucking, on this plane of reality, might help) and don’t part ways before leaving NOLA. Or they roll up in Cairo separately but at the same time, and confront Wednesday together, and neither of them die (or die more, in her case). Or they’re there together when the police nearly raid the house. Or they have Wednesday (the ultimate cause of Laura’s death) and Ibis (a death deity) and Bilquis (a love/death/life deity) on hand, surely they can concoct some kind of resurrection thingamajig for Laura, and if they have to twist some divine arms then so be it. Or or or…?

-Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, what if Sweeney decided much sooner to say to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence – but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.

-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it. Speaking of other deities, I really enjoyed their brief canon interactions with Ostara, Anansi, and Mama-Ji, and I’d like to see more of that, especially Ostara’s polite yet over-it attitude, Anansi very obvious over-it attitude and his dramatic flair, or Mama-Ji being one of the few capable of giving Laura pause.

-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.

-Sweeney and Laura fighting together, like they did on Mr. Town’s train of torture. Whether it’s a bar fight of their own making, or the big gods’ war they find themselves embroiled in, or something else entirely.

-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma (he did kill her way back when), he can still be pissed off about it – how do they navigate this?

-Related to that, the Baron said: “In death is her true love, but she betrays him also.” If that meant Sweeney, or can mean Sweeney in the future (I don’t like destiny-wills-it stories, and they’re definitely not there yet, but they could maybe get there at some future point, and even then It Would Be Complicated), was the betrayal Laura rejecting him after the loa ‘fuck them,’ or is it something that hasn’t happened yet, and if so, what?

-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and then she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.

-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want – in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing. If the place they have to stay happens to be NOLA, all the better, I find everything about that city fascinating. Or, if you wanted to use book canon, Laura and Sweeney (rather than Shadow) are the ones who have to spend time living in Lakeside and deal with its creepy Norman Rockwell-ness and with Hinzelmann.

-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty. They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes in NOLA, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.

-AU from the end of “The Ways of the Dead”: they still have their big fight (which was amazing as well as painful) or some variation thereof, but they don’t split up. (Maybe the reason is as mundane as Sweeney refusing to get left behind or they have a shared ride out of town, or maybe the more time passes the less Sweeney can afford to be far from his coin – or maybe the coin needs him close by to work at full capacity.) And then what?

-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self. Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)? On that note, Sweeney’s decline from Lugh to king to leprechaun was more sketched in than really explored in canon, ditto I didn’t really get why he couldn’t seem to remember his own history except in snatches (the curse that made him a bird/madman of the woods?) – I’d love to see more about it and his (not) dealing with it, or with a reversal of that decline. Eorann told him long ago to adapt and change with the times – but what does that mean after humpteen centuries in a rut and becoming used to always feeling angry and unappreciated?

-The power of names, since they never use each other’s in canon: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is not his actual name, and true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.

-They’re both so complicated and contradictory and spiky, but they also start to care and rely on each other - and react really badly when they (think the other one) betrayed them. I would like to see those nuances explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.

-Sweeney and Laura get drunk and wake up married. Or some sex and/or blood resurrection spell results in basically an unbreakable marriage bond, whether it also secures resurrection or not. Or marrying the dead keeps them (sorta) alive. Or being married makes it possible for them to share magical/supernatural abilities. They’re both pissed about it, but secretly having to make it work may not be the worst thing that’s ever happened...

-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn, including a canon-divergent first time, or their second time, or all the later times after they had their first time in NOLA in canon.

-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have – or have left from when he was Lugh? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities? For example, why can’t Sweeney just take his coin back, or why does Laura gain super-strength as part of her undead package deal? Is the hoard in the same space as the behind-the-scenes accessed through the merry-go-round, or it’s a different place? Why does the coin seem to start to “run down” the longer Laura has it? Why did Wednesday need Laura to kill Argus when he killed Vulcan himself just fine? What happens with Gungnir now it’s in the hoard – can only Sweeney get to it, has it been transformed somehow (it’s now the treasure of the sun), etc.?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce & Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

I’m here for Midge’s adventures in the intoxicating, foul-mouthed, and often-frustrating world of comedy, so her dynamic with Susie and Lenny is where it’s at. Shippy or platonic, I just love the interactions between these three, and between every pair combination among them: Midge and Susie bantering and swearing and tits-upping even when they irritate each other, Midge and Lenny bringing the pathos as well as the humor, and Lenny and Susie both being hardened old pros with still a little glimmer of starry eyes. I am good with L/M/S or L&M&S or L/M & M/S – so, if you go the shippy route, either a V-shaped triad or hey, Susie (whom I absolutely read as gay) might find a way to be good with a full-on triangle… If you want to keep it platonic, True Companions all the way, always there for each other, even when they want to strangle each other. And as much as I like the comedy inherent in the characters, I also love that they’re all three, each in their own way, messed up people and dysfunctional to various degrees. So yeah, I just want Midge to hand the kids over to her parents, ditch Joel once and for all, marry (interpret that as literally or as loosely as you want) both Susie and Lenny, and for the three of them to ride off into the sunset to make comedy history.

Canon-specific DNWs: explicit sex (so nothing above M rating for sex), pairing any two as a / couple with the third as a & hanger-on, Lenny can still be his RL messed-up, drugged-up self – albeit the gentler version the show gives us – but I don’t want him dying if your fic is set in 1966 or after.

Prompts (most of these are from before S3 dropped, feel free to work with canon or diverge however you see fit -- I am all caught up with S3):

-Does Susie manage them both? Does Midge open for Lenny on tour? Does he open for her??? Or they become equal stars on the comedy circuit?

-Maybe Lenny joins Shy Baldwin’s tour, or they run into him while touring Europe or the US, or after Shy fires Midge, Midge and Susie cobble together a Midge-only tour of America and keep crossing Lenny’s own touring path, and they all tool around, and yes I would love as much period detail and geography porn as you can throw at me. And while Lenny and Midge have seen the world, Susie hasn’t – her reaction to different foods, languages, customs, landscapes would be spectacular to witness. Especially if “different” is someplace as close to New York as Jersey or Connecticut, or someplace as far away and different as, say, Japan.

-If they do go to Europe, somehow or other they also tour the Soviet Bloc. Cue culture clashes, getting followed (or thinking they’re being followed) by the secret police, getting hammered on vodka and herring and pickles, and then when they get back to the States, the Feds grill them. It’s all dead serious, and Midge and Lenny refuse to take it as seriously as they should, while Susie is trying but the whole thing is really pissing her off…

-Lenny’s burned out, and Midge is just getting started. This dissonance may or may not find some sort of resolution. One thing’s for sure: Susie has limited patience for both Lenny’s depression and Midge’s need to make everything pretty.

-Instead of going to Joel for a no-way-is-that-closure fling after the Steve Allen Show taping, Midge goes to have a drink or seven with the two people who have, in their own ways, always been there for her and never let her down.

-Midge goes on TV again, this time as the star: longer set, prime time slot, dressing room, the works. She’s dying of nerves. Lenny and Susie coach her through it.

-More radio work to make ends meet in between gigs: hilaribad period ads, hilaribad radio drama, running all over town to be on time, getting paid in all kinds of dubious merch…

-Midge and Susie head out west to make it big and stay with Lenny once they’re in Los Angeles, and it’s marvelous (ha ha) and disastrous in equal measure.

-More of Susie being the hypercompetent manager we saw especially in S3! (And please don’t dwell on her gambling problem, I was not a fan.)

-They all three get drunk, maybe with a hint of sadness if it’s the holidays (you can ignore my DNW about holidays, but please let that be just the background, not the lynchpin of the story) or someone’s birthday, and there’s a bar fight, running from the cops, eating greasy food at ass o’clock, and possibly kissing, not necessarily in that order.

-One or two or all three of them get arrested/have court appearances all over America and have to bail each other out, or find someone to bail them all out, or secure legal counsel – you get the drift. Or all three of them are trying to explain to a single lawyer what happened, talking over each other, the two pros not being able to resist landing zingers and Susie not being far behind, and the lawyer just getting more and more confused.

-They get in trouble some other way – offended patrons, surly management, shitty hotels, tour bus breaks down in the middle of Wyoming – and have to have each other’s backs because no one else will.

-Three-person road trip or tour, and only Susie knows how to drive. So Midge decides to learn, right then and there. And Lenny… Lenny may or may not be too lazy/hungover/lying about not knowing how. There’s supposed to be a rotation so everyone gets to stretch out on the back seat for equal lengths of time, but you know the system doesn’t work too well in practice. Also, they play games in the car to while away the time, and they do it their own way of course: I spy, cows on my side, yellow car, never have I ever, 20 questions, or riffing on whatever’s playing on the radio…

-They sit down to watch the moon landing (you can move it up a bit so it’s not happening a whole decade after S2) – by which I mean, Midge is all gung-ho about the moon landing, and Lenny and Susie are like whatever – and things don’t quite go to plan, but a good time is eventually had by all.

-It’s Yom Kippur again, and Midge wants to do the whole production: synagogue, breaking fast, the lot. Lenny and Susie would rather eat glass. Midge gets her way, of course. Does she decide to bring Susie and Lenny home to meet – or meet properly – her parents??? I bet Abe and Rose’s reactions would be something to see. (This too is an exception to my DNW about holiday settings – I just want stuff to get as crazy as it did the two times we saw Yom Kippur celebrated on the show, and for everything to still somehow turn out relatively OK.)

-Midge and Lenny have cheered each other up when the going got extra rough. I want for Susie to be especially down in the dumps – maybe her boozehound of a mother died and Susie took it worse than she does in canon, maybe some asshole told her she’s a shit manager and got her right in her insecurities – and Midge to rope Lenny into trying to cheer her up. And for Susie to fight them every step of the way but still be glad they care enough to try.

-Inspired by Susie’s brother looking just like her, by which I mean she and he and their sister look nothing alike, and by Lenny’s “she’s my mother” quip about Midge at the TV studio and then his “let me introduce my wife or maybe my sister” in Miami – Midge, Susie, and Lenny pretend to all be blood relatives, or mafiosi, or spies, or something else they’re not, while out in public, say in a restaurant. Just to be assholes and see how long they can keep it going before they break character or people figure them out, or call the cops, or something. There’s totally a bet on who corpses and breaks character first. Or, nice hotels ca. 1960 weren’t very big on letting unmarried couples, let alone threesomes stay in rooms together – pretending to be family might make that easier; forgetting what they’re meant to be to each other, or mixing up their backstories might make it harder. This could also work platonically, if they’re trying to save money by only getting one room, there only being one free room in the hotel, or for any other screwball reason you can invent.

-Lenny and Midge do a (comeback) tour of the Borscht Belt, and all the Steiner Mountain Resort guests (especially the gossipy old hens from the beauty salon) and staff go to see them – and heckle.

-Stuff happens and they end up performing at some hole in the wall place where no one knows who they are (or no one believes it’s really those people they’ve seen on TV) – tough crowd, but a good workout for the two comics, and if Susie gets to threaten to rip off someone’s head, all the better.

-Lenny and Midge honing their routines – and maybe developing a double act – and Susie being all “oh my fucking god, what the fuck!!! … They’re actually good. I’m so proud.”

-Sharing a bed with two other people is an ongoing project: who sleeps (or refuses to sleep) in the middle? Who gets up during the night and why? Who starfishes across most of the bed? Who snores, and how does this get handled? If alcohol or pot have happened, how does that affect the sleeping arrangements? Also, Susie and Lenny witness and react to Midge’s beauty routine, ‘nuff said. Or, for various reasons one person after another ends up decamping to another room/bed/couch, but it doesn’t help them get much sleep or even stay there very long (this is inspired by my love of Shirley Jackson and her short story/humorous essay “The Night We All Had Grippe”). If you prefer to keep it platonic, most of this would work if they’re just sharing a double bedroom on tour (I leave the reason for why Lenny is bunking with the women up to you).

Starred Up (2013 movie)

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

Yes I do ship it, I do, I do!

Ahem. Don’t get me wrong, I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot. But. I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and Oliver the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence (what was he on about with “I need to be here”?), slightly older counselor. They had me at Oliver’s “I want him” and Eric later telling his father that Oliver’s a better man than Love Sr. Also the not-flirting and the push-pull in the scene when Oliver picks up Eric from his cell - yowza!

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is a-okay! If you decide to go there, my preferred flavors of dubcon for this canon are: power differential makes it a bad idea but they do it anyway; “I know you want this”; “if the answer’s no/you’re only doing this for a dare or to prove a point, then why are you enjoying this so much [as am I]?”; no no yes a.k.a. starts as dubcon (or one of them thinks they’re dubconning the other), becomes enthusiastic consent.

Also, if this is relevant or makes you nervous about writing for me, Eric would be 18-19, and Oliver is maybe 10-12 years older – and I like it!!! (The actors were 22 and 31 when the movie was made, FWIW.)

Prompts:

-I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line, as it’s implied that Eric will be serving a long sentence. Give me more scenes from anger management or the ribald, honest, free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (I liked Hassan and Tyrone especially, among the group members) or a one-on-one session.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission/declaration that they both know there’s something there, even if they don’t know what to do with it. Or, one or both of them knows exactly what to do with it, and the push-pull that would result from that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind profanity, when he can use colorful language to express emotion and/or sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Things get porny and/or emotional.

-Eric is eventually released (you can handwave this so it happens soon after the movie or have it happen years later) and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world. You guessed it: things get porny and/or emotional.

-How do they get to the point where both can cross that line from friends/whatever the hell they are and become, to lovers? (There’s Eric’s personal history and general discomfort with vulnerability, plus all the ways prison sex can be or make things complicated, and if it helps, I headcanon Oliver as either gay or bi and at least somewhat closeted, at work especially.) Who initiates and “directs traffic”? How does their always-contentious dynamic shift during and after sex? Is the sex an isolated (series of) occasion(s), or a progression/escalation over multiple encounters (how would I love especially an escalating series of encounters, let me count the ways)? Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner as well as using the possibility of sex to manipulate and exert control, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself as well as aware of his custodial duty toward the men in the group.

-At some point in their intimate relationship (probably not right at the start, and probably not in prison, though if you can make it happen in prison, more power to you!), Oliver decides he’s going to take his sweet time and make Eric fall absolutely apart with pleasure, while using dirty talk to both arouse and empower Eric to own his desires – by that point, Eric is in a place where he can let that happen and enjoy it, even if he still talks tough.

-Or how about this: Eric gets out, relationship happens or is in the process of being negotiated, and while physical intimacy is a whooooole neeeeeew woooorld, you know what else would be cool? Phone sex. Yep. Or even, Eric gets himself one of those secret prison burner phones (preferably hidden somewhere that’s not someone’s arse), and… phone sex after lights-out and lock-down. Maybe nothing (much) has happened physically (yet), so phone sex can be a building block to that or one facet of that deepening intimacy.

Witchblade (TV) Sara Pezzini/Danny Woo

Sara Pezzini & Danny Woo

I used to love this show back in the day, and loved it again in all its hokey gloriousness when I rewatched it recently. Sara figuring things out and being a principled badass, but maybe out of her depth with the Witchblade, and her dynamic with Danny, whether he's a ghost or alive, it’s all catnip to me. Sara is not extremely quippy, she has a job to do dammit! and don’t look at her vulnerable side, just don’t look at it!, and I love that about her (she’s much harsher in S1, after Danny’s death, than in S2); ditto that Danny is somewhat softer than she is, but still can hold his own thanksverymuch (well, when the plot doesn’t require him to get nabbed by bad guys) and has a bit of a deadpan snarker side too. I’d love something that plays around with their canon dynamic from either season, or uses canon as just a starting point. Gen is good, shippy (incl. porny) is good. Some of my prompts lean dark or horror-y, so don’t be shy about going there; I’d also enjoy a story in which the Witchblade itself ends up not being very significant (say, they start to investigate a possibly mystical case and then nope, plain murder). BTW I really like Conchobar too, so if you want to include him (that means also Conchobar Lives AUs), his relationship (current or past) with Sara, or his canonical death somehow, go for it!

Canon-specific DNWs: Irons and any version of Nottingham appearing (you can mention them if you need to).

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is fine (see first prompt).

Prompts:

-The Witchblade is more parasitic than symbiotic, and instead of Sara learning to control it, its feeding on Sara affects her more and more over time. Or, the visions and dreams ramp up into full-blown paranoia and/or disassociation. The Witchblade's POV, maybe (it is sentient)? Asking for help is the hardest thing for someone like Sara, but what are (more than) friends for? I’d also enjoy a dubcon scenario where Sara really shouldn’t be having sex when her head is all messed up by the Witchblade’s influence, but… well… they do. The Witchblade canonically enjoys violence and bloodshed perpetrated by its wearers, so it stands to reason that it might lower other inhibitions too.

-Witchblade v. mythological monsters. In S1, even with everything else that's going on, Sara absolutely scoffs at the possibility of vampires. So of course I want: Witchblade v. vampires! The scarier and more feral, the better. Or, it's implied that the Witchblade was forged from a meteorite, so it's basically an eldritch artefact from outer space. Yes, please lean all the way into the Lovecraftian tropes! (The moon is turning red, the Old Ones are back, it’s the end of the world as we know it, but Sara’s got her partner by her side.) Or something from Chinese mythology, so Danny can kick extra ass. Or, for a silly take on Chinese culture: Sara and Danny in the world of Big Trouble in Little China (another old fave of mine, the entire plot of which revolves around… a woman with green eyes and an unwanted connection to the supernatural).

-The Witchblade has a reputation for abandoning its wearers just when they need it the most. True to form, it slips off of Sara’s fist, leaving her and Danny to save themselves with good old-fashioned guns, fisticuffs, martial arts, and of course having each other’s back.

-More of the psychedelic-ness in many of Sara’s fight scenes, where now she’s a woman in a leather jacket with a gauntlet on her arm, now she’s a knight in armor! Now her opponent is human, now he’s a wolf-shaped spirit of evil and hatred! Playing around with the characters’ senses and perceptions – yes!

-Instead of seeing only Danny and needing him to play intermediary for Sara to talk to other ghosts, the Witchblade makes Sara see ghosts all over the place, and it's getting to her. Ghost!Danny may or may not help with that. Or, ghost!Danny is basically always around, whether Sara can see him or not. He manifests when Sara is masturbating, and you can't really feel guilty if the ghost of your dead partner whom you’ve always had a thing for helps you out, and anyway you’re probably going crazy and none of this is real, so it doesn’t count anyway... right?

-Case fic/stakeouts and banter. Flirting/ribbing/joshing to pass the long and stressful days at work.

-Quick and guilty sex because Danny's married. Slow and intense sex if handwave he's not married but “oh noes we’re partners, we shouldn’t be doing this, but somehow we keep doing it anyway.” Hooking up in the car. I've always headcanoned that they had a thing pre-canon which ended for Reasons, but they both kinda wish it hadn't, hence the hand kissing, and the “I can’t even touch you,” and the coffee bringing/stealing, etc. So feel free to play around with that.

-Undercover as married, undercover as a gangster and his moll (LOL at Sara as a moll, or have Sara as the gangster and Danny as her arm candy), undercover as “they think we’re fucking, better fake it real good for the people listening in, oops shit got real fast, careful don’t say each other’s real name or you’ll blow your cover.”

-More timey-wimey shenanigans with the Witchblade. Maybe it allows Sara to manipulate time more than once. Maybe she starts doing it way too often, throwing the continuum out of whack (something non-linear would be very interesting). Maybe she and/or Danny remember some or all of what happened in S1. Something about all the multiverse versions of them, possibly splitting off from a dramatic moment. Time loops and feelings are a combustible mix.

-Apart from the pretty obvious shippiness, what I like about S1 especially is how Sara rolls with the weirdness the Witchblade has brought into her life, instead of reaching for rational explanations. More of that (I can't think of a better way to put it), and double extra brownie points if alive!Danny figures out at least some of what's going on with Sara's bracelet and somehow gets in on the action. Maybe a Danny saves the day divergence? Or how about a loophole that allows a man close to the Witchblade's wearer to wield it temporarily, but There Is a Price to Pay.

Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

Dardan Berisha/Petrit Koci

Skënder Berisha & Petrit Koci

Teuta Berisha/Petrit Koci

Divna Dukić/Petrit Koci

Petrit Koci/Marija Perić

Petrit Koci/Uroš Perić

My longest of long-shot requests! If you already know and like this canon, yeeees come sit with me. If you don’t know it, here’s a quick intro: this is a crime drama, one 12-episode season so far, produced in Serbia and created by Tony Jordan of “Hustle” fame. Set in (and with a cast including actors from) several ex-Yugoslav states, the story follows three main characters: a Serbian family man and regular joe who accidentally kills the daughter of a major Kosovar Albanian crime boss in a car accident; said Albanian crime boss who coerces his daughter’s unwitting killer to start working for him as an assassin; and a half-Albanian, half-Serbian Interpol agent (Petrit Koci) who’s after the crime boss but starts investigating the regular joe turned assassin as well.

The show has a twisty plot, gritty and handsome visuals, excellent performances, and a great through-line of deconstructing Balkan machismo and patriarchal culture. All three of the main characters have an image of themselves as MEN who Provide and/or Take Care of Business and Put Family First, each in their own way, and all three end up compromising on all their principles by season’s end. The women in the show’s ‘verse sometimes become collateral damage but also assert themselves in unexpected ways, which is great. The title refers to the Albanian (but more broadly, Balkan) cultural concept that one’s promise/vow/word of honor has to be kept and carried out no matter what, at peril of losing face, dishonoring both oneself and one’s family, even death. This gets deconstructed five ways from Sunday too, and it is awesome.

If you glance at the pairings I’m requesting, I think you can guess who my favorite character is. :-) Koci is so committed to being the “good sheriff” and carrying out his professional duty regardless of whom he has to piss off along the way, but is also often quite ineffectual because the local police forces with which he has to cooperate tend to resent both his attitude and his ethnic background – not to mention that when everyone’s corrupt and compromised, the man who refuses to play the game makes lots of enemies. He’s also a real hard-ass who made a conscious choice long ago to have nothing in his life but his work, is a bit of a bastard, has a huge blind spot about gender which comes back to bite him, and ultimately is driven by a desire for personal vendetta more than an abstract commitment to justice (I love a character who is super focused on their goal and presents themselves as invulnerable, yet whose insecurities and traumas are always just beneath the surface of what drives them). And yes, by the end of the season he’s presented with a Faustian bargain and gets a huge target on his back. There’s a lot to unpack there!

I will eat up any local color you want to throw in. Ditto, the canon is super intense, but if you find a way to bring in some vintage Balkan pitch-black humor, I’m here for it. If you wanted to include some dialogue or phrases or hey write the whole fic in any variation of what used to be called Serbo-Croatian, I’m here for that with bells on! (Unless you’re writing smut – I just can’t with E-rated prose in Slavic languages, sorry.) Alas, I do not read Albanian, but if you want to include dialogue/phrases in it, go for it, so long as you tell me (in parentheses, in footnotes, whatever works) what’s going on.

Canon-specific DNW: soapboxing about Balkan history/conflicts/ethnic relations (the characters can clash about this, use stereotypes, etc. – I just don’t want the fic to be an excuse for the writer’s hot takes, ‘kay?)

Exceptions to blanket DNWs: RL current events being mentioned + dubcon *but* for M/F ships I want both characters to be motivated by anger/revenge/general existential bleakness/whathaveyou instead of or as well as lust, so just no M/f dubcon, please!

Prompts:

-Any of my requested pairings in any kind of casefic, either a divergence, something pre- or post-canon, or a side investigation spinning off from the canon’s central plot. Anything that requires Koci to again traipse all over former Yugoslavia, butt heads with everyone, interrogate people, and do that soft-spoken “you don’t want to give me what I want but you’ll do it anyway” thing he does along the way.

-Something that requires Koci to use his knowledge of Albanian language and culture even more than in canon. I love how the canon depicts the existential discomfort of never fully fitting into – or being accepted by – either of the cultures/communities to which one has a connection, and how a person can become antagonistic and volatile as a result. Leaning into that would be wonderful.

-Koci has devoted his whole life to bringing down the Berisha clan. With the help or hindrance of any of the other requested characters, he finally gets his wish. Now what?

-Maybe the other character has to turn to Interpol for help/becomes a material witness/gets arrested/enters witness protection, or otherwise has to do teeth-clenched teamwork with Koci. For / pairings, the shippiness doesn’t have to be overt -- antagonism, barely finding common ground, something that reads more like gen or shippy gen than explicit shippiness is fine! If the relationship turns porny, the antagonism (I keep using that word because it fits!) and complicated dynamics and maybe a reluctant recognition that they’re not so different would perpetuate themselves in the porn too, and I’m here for it.

-A few words about the other characters and how they (could) fit with Koci:

Uroš Perić – the regular joe turned assassin, who gets multiple chances in the course of the show to seek Koci’s help and doesn’t because he gets in deep and wants to be the guy that protects his family and takes care of everything himself. I keep thinking back to their very first scene, when Koci gives Perić his calling card and tells him to get in touch, and Perić could have done that before he committed his first murder but… didn’t. And then at the end, there’s that huge spoiler setting up S2. Despite becoming a murderer several times over, Perić is a much softer character than Koci, but he doesn’t like getting pushed around either. How would they work together, how would they clash?

Marija Perić – Uroš’s Croatian wife, who has the thankless role of being married to the guy who’s keeping her in the dark about major plot developments, but makes up for it with how she reacts to the hints she gets of Uroš’s continuing troubles as well as getting on Koci’s radar. She’s scared and out of her depth, but she’s also angry and, yep, antagonistic when she thinks Interpol is harassing her for no reason. I love the scene where Koci interrogates her and she lashes out and won’t give him an inch even when he blindsides her with evidence of her husband’s activities – more of that kind of thing, please! Or what if she decided to protect herself and her kids by cooperating with Interpol, or maybe thought she could help Uroš by turning on him?

Divna Dukić – Koci’s Interpol colleague and maybe the only character that likes him. Their dynamic is both very professionally respectful and yet… “flirtatious” may be too strong a word. They pretty obviously have a little thing for each other but choose not to act on it for a whole mess of reasons (he’s an emotional disaster area, she has enough on her plate as a single mom with a shitty ex, they work together). Also, I have a theory that Divna, while seeming loyal, may take her marching orders from one of the criminal elements or maybe from the more corrupt parts of Interpol or the Serbian police. I would love any or all of that to get explored more.

Dardan Berisha – the grieving crime boss and main target of Koci’s obsession (even though it was actually Dardan’s old uncle Skënder who had Koci’s father killed decades earlier). They’re both such hard, intense men, in part because they’ve had to be, and the narrative sets them up as mirror images of each other (while Uroš Perić is more a study in how someone becomes hard when circumstances push them to it). Yet while their conflict underpins the whole show, they rarely share a scene. Put them together more; let them fight or y’know *waggles eyebrows*.

Teuta Berisha – Dardan’s wife, who first loses her daughter, and by the end of the season her family is totally blown to smithereens, in part because of how she chooses to assert her agency within the super-patriarchal context in which she lives. She was ambivalent about her marriage before we meet her, and I love how canon events bring out her anger, grief, and quiet steeliness. Also, that moment at her daughter’s funeral when Koci gives her his condolences really hit me – they know they are enemies, but there’s that moment of standoffish respect between them. What if somehow they had to work together? Or what if she took over as the head of either the Berisha or the Sokoli clan (or both!)? A divergence from the end or any part of S1 would be very welcome.

Skënder Berisha -- Dardan’s uncle who still wields enormous influence in the Berisha clan and was behind the assassination of Koci’s father decades earlier. I only want this as a & pairing, but the character dynamic is still one of difficult shared history, knee-jerk antagonism, goading humor, not being at all intimidated by each other, and yet recognizing something familiar in each other. One of my favorite scenes from the whole show is their conversation at the hospital, in which they cover both present troubles and the past. Skënder is one of the few characters who can and does consistently run rings around Koci, and I want more of that as much as I want the tables turned.

#chocolate box 2021 #chocolate box fic exchange #dear author letter

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

Fallen Idols: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,811

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“Yahtzee,” Sam grinned.

“What is it?” you asked with your head on Dean’s shoulder as he messed with his laptop. Sam wanted him to do some research, but he was playing an internet game secretly.

“The seeds aren't from around here. In fact, they're not from any tree or plant in the country. They’re from Eastern Europe from a forest in the Balkans, which is not even there anymore. It was chopped down, like, thirty years ago. Apparently, local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshi. Um, a mischievous god, could take on infinite forms and feed from his worshipers. He could only be appeased with the blood from his worshippers. It would drain 'em, then stuff their stomachs with the seeds.”

“Okay, so how's he doing it? What, he touches James Dean's keychain and then morphs into James Dean?” you wondered as you got up from the bed.

“Hm. It's as good a guess as any.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. How do we kill him?” Dean asked the important question.

“Says here to chop off his head with an iron axe.”

“All right. Let's go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton,” he said with the most serious face he could muster up.

Being back at the wax museum was mortifying, but there was a teenage girl’s life on the line. A flashlight was in one hand while you tiptoed through the museum, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Sam and Dean split up in different directions until you heard Sam whistle for you and Dean to join him. Walking over to the tallest Winchester, you noticed two signs on the door which might be where Leshi is. “CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS” and “DANGER DO NOT ENTER” hung on the door. Rolling your eyes, you broke the latch with your magic before entering the place. Dean had the axe ready to use in case Paris Hilton does show up.

The room was decorated to be like a clearing in the woods with a path leading up the middle to a white house with a wax figure of a man in a suit standing on the front porch. Upon entering, you noticed a woman tied to one of the trees, and you knew it must be Danielle. Pushing past the brothers, you barely made it to the girl before the axe in Dean’s hand went flying into the trunk of another nearby tree.

Leshi appeared behind Dean with a wicked smile before punching him multiple times in the face which caused him to crumble to the ground.

“Go help. I got her,” you whispered to Sam who rushed over to help.

Leshi flipped her hair as you worked the girls’ binds. Leshi shoved Sam as hard as she could into the post of the fake house, effectively knocking him out.

“Awesome,” she grinned.

She raised her stiletto-clad foot and stomped on Dean’s face which knocked him out. She finally turned to you with an evil smile.

“I don’t think so,” she declared as she raised her hand to use her powers to send your head flying into the tree that the girl was tied to.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you collapsed in darkness.

The sound of metal sliding against metal is what woke you up. The ground is what you saw first, and you realized from the restraints on your hands was that you were tied just like the young woman. Sam and Dean woke up not too long after you, and Leshi grinned when she realized you three were awake.

“Oh, I'm so glad you're awake for this. This is gonna be huge.”

“Super. Yeah, I wouldn't wanna miss it,” Dean grumbled.

He looked over at you just as your eyes flashed blue to let him know you were going to get the ropes untied before doing the same to his and Sam’s.

“I mean, I've been stuffing myself with fast food lately. So, it's nice to do the ritual right. Prepare a nice, slow meal for a change,” she grinned as she filed her nails against the carving knife she had in her hands which was causing sparks.

“Just like the good old days, huh?”

“You have no idea. People adored me. They used to throw themselves at me, with smiles on their faces.”

“Yeah, I guess these days nobody gives a flying shit about some backwoods forest god, huh?” Dean snapped, and Leshi stopped filing her nails with a threatening glare.

“No, not since they cut down my forest and built a Yugo plant.”

“March of progress, sister,” he chuckled. Focusing all of your attention to the binds, you felt your magic dance around your wrist as they began to untie the ropes to set you free.

“For years now, I've been wandering, hungry, and scared. Scrounging for scraps. So not sexy. But then, the best thing ever happened. Someone tripped the apocalypse, and I thought, what the hell, I'm tired of watching what I eat. I wanna pig out. So, I found this little place. It's awesome. Adoring fans stroll right in the door.”

“Yeah. But they're not your fans,” Sam tried to reason.

“So? They worship Lincoln, Gandhi, Hilton... whatever. I'll take what I can get.”

“You know, I gotta tell you, you are not the first God we've met, but you are... the nuttiest,” Dean chuckled. Your binds were loose enough so they fell, and you kept your hands where they were to keep up with the illusion that you were still bound before shooting your magic over to Dean’s wrist secretly to have his binds untied.

“No, you, you people, you're the crazy ones. You used to worship Gods. But this? This is what passes for idolatry? Celebrities? What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans? You people used to have old-time religion. Now you have Us Weekly.”

“I don't know, I'm more of a Penthouse Forum man myself,” Dean smirked with a wink as his binds fell to the ground. He kept his hands here as well just as your magic bounced from his wrist to Sam’s.

“Maybe,” she stalked over to Dean, “but... there's still a lot of yummy meat on those bones, boy.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, sister, but, uh... you can't eat me. See, I'm not a Paris Hilton BFF. I've never even seen House of Wax.”

“No. But I can totally read your mind, Dean. I know who your hero is. Your daddy. Am I right?” she smirked and walked over to the axe she threw into the tree earlier. “And this belonged to him. Didn't it? Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up.”

“Not today, bitch,” you grinned as your eyes flashed a bright blue.

She turned around just as a ball of blue magic hit her square in the face. She stumbled a bit from the impact, and Dean raced at her before tackling her to the ground. The binds on Sam’s wrists snapped, and he wasted no time in rushing over to the axe before yanking it out of the tree. Leshi punched Dean before you sent another ball of magic straight to her chest which knocked her off your boyfriend. She groaned as her healed lolled on the ground seconds before Sam brought the axe down on her neck… again… and again… and again… and then a final time. Her head rolled off to the side as blood poured from her body.

Panting, you looked over at Danielle who moaned in pain. Rushing over to her, you placed your fingers at her neck to search for a pulse. It was barely there, but there nonetheless.

“She’s alive. Barely, but still.”

“Not a word,” Dean groaned as he pointed a finger at his brother who had blood sprayed over half of his face.

“Dude. You just got whaled on by Paris Hilton!”

“Shut up,” Dean groaned in pain.

After the motel was packed and cleaned out, you and the brothers left with your bags slung over your shoulders as Dean hung up the phone.

“That was Sheriff Carnegie. Danielle's gonna be all right. She's sworn off The Simple Life, but other than that, she’s going to be okay.”

“Glad to hear it,” you nodded.

“It gets better. Sheriff's putting out an APB on Paris Hilton. That ought to be good,” he laughed as he took out his keys and opened the trunk of the car. Putting your bags inside with the boys’, Dean sighed as he looked at his brother.

“Hey, listen, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me keeping too tight of a leash on you. Hell, maybe you're right. I mean, look, I'm not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either, you know. I did break the first seal.”

“You didn't know.”

“Yeah, well, neither did you.”

“I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most,” you sighed. Even though you had nothing to do with the apocalypse, you still had guilt for shutting Sam out when he needed you the most.

“I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith.”

“And start the apocalypse.”

“Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who'd have thought killing Lilith would've been a bad thing? Point is, I was so worried about watching your every move that I didn't see what it was actually doing to you. So, for that I'm sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” you added.

“Thanks,” Sam nodded as Dean closed the trunk.

“So, where do we go from here?” Dean asked.

“The way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this. Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael and Y/N with Amara, maybe there's no changing that. But, we can stop wringing our hands over it. We gotta just grab onto whatever's in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting.”

“That we can do,” you grinned.

“Okay. But we're gonna have to do it on the same level.”

“You got it,” Dean agreed. “I say we get the hell outta here.”

“Yes, please,” you nodded. Sam and Dean were about to go their respective ways when Deans topped his brother with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you wanna drive?” Dean offered.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I could, uh... I could use a nap.”

“Hell shot gun!” you grinned before rushing to the front of the car. Both brothers laughed at this before Sam took the keys from his hand. Everyone got into the car before Sam started it and drove off.

“Next time, I’m driving,” you declared.

“Keep dreaming, sweetheart,” Dean grinned teasingly.

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ranawaytothedas · 4 years

Text

A Maybe - Day 2 Hand Holding

A/N: It may be like... a day late but my life is kinda hectic and I am shocked I even managed to get this done. Not what I had originally planned but I liked this better as it actually is close to something I had already ready planned to write for Early Maeve/Cullen stuff so here we go. Unbetaed as most of my prompts are - just so you are aware :D Enjoy Day 2 of @scharoux ‘s 14DALovers prompts which you can find HERE

There was a certain amount of ritual to Maeve’s life. Everything had its place in her room, her clothes were all either black, dark blue or grey. There was never a bright color on her. Certainly nothing in a pastel either. She wore her hair the same each day. Up in a tightly braided knot, hiding the fact if down it went well past her waist. She never liked to show too much skin, like her sister did in her youth. Her clothes were always tightly fitting and showed off her curves, but she tried, for the most part, to not show too much of her to the world. It was a sign of her being a far more guarded person than she once was.

So when Maeve made the choice to take her hair down from the tight braid, letting her long chestnut brown locks down that evening it must have been what started the shift in Maeve. Perhaps it was the dusty blue dress that Madame Vivane had made for her by her personal seamstress. A gift to cheer the depressed young woman up, Maeve expected but Vivane said she needed something that fit the role she now found herself it. Maeve stood over her bed, her arms crossed in front of her naked chest. Her pale skin smattered with scars, old and new. Deep blue tattoos covered her back, the vain attempts that she and Raven had made to tame her chaotic mana. She was not a woman who had worn many fine dresses in her life.

Most of her life she had made every attempt to go unnoticed, “That is a dress that makes people notice you..” Maeve mumbled as she reached down and ran her fingertips lightly over the fine silver embroidery that covers the pale blue fabric. “Tis a dress they would wear to court... “ Maeve mumbled, her voice wavered as her mind was pulled back to a time where she was out of her element once before. Long ago. She shook her head to try and push the memories away but for a moment she could have sworn she felt his hand on the back of her neck. Maeve shuddered as she pushed away a hand that wasn’t there and reached down for the dress.

There was no reason that Maeve would admit for wearing it, but she had to wear it that night. The reason she would not admit that it was almost the time that Cullen would wander down to the docks each night Maeve was in Haven and wait for her. They would only talk, but it was the highlight of each of Maeve’s day. There were many things Maeve was actively trying to avoid. Her sister, the responsibility of being the Herald, having to learn magic and admit to the world she was a mage. The handsome former templar, was nowhere near that list.

She pulled the dress on over her head and pulled her long hair out as she laced the bodice up with her nimble hands. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and let out a slightly startled gasp. The woman looking back at her was hardly the woman she was used to seeing. It was strange how much letting her hair down and wearing a light color softened her. “Now, I know why Varric calls me Princess…” Maeve muttered as she smoothed the dress and slipped on the matching pair of flats that Vivane was sure to of provide.

When she was ready to leave, Maeve paused at the door. Her hand hoover over it as her hand shook. ‘What if he does not think the dress is fine, what if he does not feel the same, or worse what if he does…’ That little voice of doubt in the back of her mind called out. Shaking her head before smoothing her hair, Maeve muttered, “No, it’s just a dress… a dress means nothing.” as she reached forward and opened the door.

The walk down to the docks from her cabin took only a few moments, but they were each more agonizing than the last. As she stepped on to the docks. Maeve watched as Cullen slowly turned around hearing her footsteps. Gone was the armor he wore during the day, only the dark brown jerkin he whore under it and a pair of black breeches and his normal boots. As soon as Maeve saw his face, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. His whole posture became more rigid the moment he saw. “I knew this was a bad idea…” Maeve grumbled as she turned to leave.

Cullen, when he wanted to be, was quite quick and close the gap between them. He reached out and took ahold of her wrist lightly, stopping her. “Don’t go.” he pleaded softly as Maeve slowly turned back around. “You… look lovely.” His eyes were fixed on her’s as his hand slipped away from her wrist. “I just, I um… never have seen you with your hair down.” He noted with a small nervous laugh.

“There is a lot of it.” Maeve quipped back, her eyes falling to the boards of the dock out of nervousness.

“That there certainly is, not that I don’t.. I uh…” Cullen brought his hand to his brow and rubbed it before letting his hand fall away looking apologetically at Maeve.. “I just put my foot in my mouth didn’t I?”

“Just a little bit,” Maeve laughed, her cheeks flushing pink. Her hands smoothed the dress before she gestured to it, “The dress…”

“Is that the one Madame Vivane made all the fuss over?” Cullen asked raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. Maeve nodded slowly. Cullen smirked. “I see why…” His small attempt at flirting didn’t go unnoticed by Maeve, nor did the fact his eyes were lingering on the plunging neckline of the dress. He caught himself letting his gaze linger in places it shouldn’t and Maeve nearly laughed when she saw his cheeks flush as he finally looked upon her face.

“It is a lovely dress,” Maeve admitted softly as she looked down at it, running her fingers over the fine embroidery. “I stole this necklace a few years for the horrible, crass and cruel madame in Antiva. It would have gone rather well with this dress I think.” Maeve mused as her hand went to her neck, playing with the thin gold chain around it. “It was thick with diamonds and sapphires. The jewels were set in moonstone. Not silver nor gold like so many others she had. When I put it on, the one time I did… It felt like when Keran used to sit on my chest wake me it was that heavy.” A genuine smile glanced across Maeve’s lips and in the pale moonlight, it was if her golden eyes sparkled. Cullen let out a content sigh seeing the rare genuine smile from her and noted how beautiful she looked. The smile faded with a dismissive laugh, “I wish I had not fenced it, though the gold I got for that necklaces severed a better purpose.”

Cullen knew Maeve’s reputation as a skilled thief and chuckled darkly. “And what, was that purpose? More daggers?” He jested as he crossed his arms in front of her chest.

Her long, thick hair moved over her shoulder as Maeve shook her head. “No. I actually rarely kept the gold I earned from fencing jewels and I only stole from people who could afford it and deserved it. Because those things so often go hand in hand.” Maeve’s voice was even and so matter of fact as she spoke. “I used the gold to free an elven girl who had been bought and brought there from Tevinter by the woman I stole the necklace from. She was none the wiser I bought the girl with the gold from the necklace she had hired Zevran to track down… but he knew my plan the whole time.” Maeve added quietly almost like she did not want anyone to hear that the great Sparrow used the gold she stole for good.

“You mean…” Cullen started still trying to grasp what Maeve had done. “You…” He stammered and Maeve laughed.

“I freed a woman who should have never been in chains. Because people do not belong in chains. They are not property to be bought and sold as people more powerful see fit.” Maeve began emphatically. “You lived in Kirkwall, I may not have had some fancy Chantry education but I know that City’s history. It’s a reputation. Surely you know that Slavery is still alive and well.” Maeve stated bitterly. “They pray on the elves because they have no place to call their own, it is horrible…”

“No, I wasn’t saying anything like that….I am… just uh… putting my foot in my mouth again.” Cullen stammered. “I just was taken aback that you did such a selfless act, with so much risk.”

“Do you think so little of me?” Maeve questioned softly not sure where Cullen was going with his statement.

Cullen sighed, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing. “I just always expected because you were a thief, the way Leliana spoke…”

“Leliana’s little birds may know a great many things but I was once one of those little birds. She forgets I know how to feed misinformation to the right sources as well her.” Maeve smirked, tilting her head to the side. Cullen started shaking his head as he smirked at her. “I have a reputation to uphold, the Sparrow is feared…” She was attempting to be serious but there was amusement in her voice. “The most skilled thief of the Dragon Age they called me in Orlais..” There was a proud smirk playing on her lips.

Cullen couldn’t help but chuckle at her pride. “You sound vastly more proud of being called the best thief of the age than you ever have been being called Herald of Andraste.”

“Because the thief bit is real!” Maeve laughed. “That was my hard work and practice. Not some twist of fate or cruel trick of destiny.” Their eyes met as Maeve sighed. “I am skilled at things that make me ‘a bad person’ but I am not a bad person.” Maeve tried to explain. “I have seen bad people all my life, I come from a long line of really terrible people…” There was both humor and truth in her words. She shifted uncomfortably as Cullen’s gaze intensified as she spoke. “I know how the world views mages, I know how the world views my sister and my mother… so I took fate into my own hands and styled myself a thief. Still looked down upon in this world but better than ‘Witch of the Wilds’ or ‘Daughter of Flemeth’. I did not have to be me, I could this whole new person who no one really knew. That scared little girl could finally be laid to rest. I was happier as The Sparrow then I have ever been as Maeve.” Cullen’s hand reached out for Maeve and but pulled back at first. “I promised myself that I would not steal from people who could not endure the loss. I would not hard people who were constantly harmed. I was going to do good, or try to. To be different from Flemeth… from Morrigan..”

“You are.” His hand reached out and grasped hers. Their fingers interlacing as he looked deep into Maeve’s eyes and repeated. “You are different from them.” For the first time that night, there was nothing but confidence in Cullen’s statement. “Every time you leave Haven you face certain danger. I have seen the reports from the Hinterlands. I know you often go far out of your way just to help people.” Maeve tried to turn away but Cullen too her other hand, which caused Maeve to look back at him. “I know about the refugees at the crossroads, the elven couple. The Tranquil that came back with you from Redcliffe… Maeve.. You did not have to do any of that.”

“I did,” Maeve muttered softly. “They needed help and no one else would help them.”

“That is why you are different than your sister and mother. Would they have helped those people?” Maeve shook her head silently answering Cullen’s question. “See, I wish you could see yourself the way the world sees you… the way I see you.” Maeve started to shake her head and want to pull away and Cullen squeezed her hands. “Maeve, I know what mages mad with too much power can do. I have lived through it, barely. You fight against using the immense power so hard it just..”

Maeve swallowed hard as she looked away from Cullen “Explodes all over the place in a wave of chaos and destruction…” Maeve scowled.

“Well, some..” Cullen admitted. The few times that Maeve had accidentally caused something to happen, buildings to shake or lighting to strike from the sky with not a cloud to be seen. It was always when she was upset and she let her tight control over her powers slip. Cullen often wondered, from what he knew of mages if it would not be better if she were just to use that power. He had never dared to ask her but the look of disgust at herself hurt him so deeply that he wanted to help her. Even in some small way. “What about what Solas suggested? Actually learning to use your magic.” Cullen never thought those words would ever come from his lips, but it seemed like the only logical answer.

Maeve scoffed at even the idea, “I have tried, Cullen… I told you about..”

“Tattoos that your friend found in a book is not the years of hard study that is needed, have you ever even put in a real effort to learn? I understand the fear..” Cullen replied a tone of frustration growing in his voice. “I am talking about study, real study Maeve. You have Madame Vivane, who is highly skilled mage, who was trained properly…” Maeve’s face paled and she pulled her hands away.

“You would send me to Circle… wouldn’t you?” Maeve asked softly, her voice filled with sadness and fear. “You know what they would do to me?” Maeve asked and now it was Cullen who was looking away. His avoidance frustrated her and her sharper tone as she continued to reflect that. “They would make me Tranquil… you know this, Cullen. Do not act like you do not know what happens to mages like me in the Circle. The ones that are not like others, the ones that have power that the Chantry should fear.” There was venom in her words and her mouth narrowed as she scowled. “I would rather die than be like that…” Maeve pulled her hands away from his and scowled.

A mournful sigh escaped Cullen’s lips, he truly did not know what he would do. At times Maeve did unnerve him, even frighten him. Other times, like now. When she was the vulnerable young woman standing before him wide-eyed and afraid, knowing all he knew of her past and her fear. He also saw that she wasn’t a monster, she was just someone who was trying to change their path. “I do not know what I would do… you are not like..” Cullen stopped mid-sentence and sighed. He reached back out for her hands. “No, I would not let you get sent to a circle because yes… you are right, that is what they would do to you. More than likely.” Cullen decided honesty was going to be the best course. “I know what happens during the rite, I… can not… will not let that happen to you.”

“Truly?” Maeve asked softly.

With a slow nod, Cullen answered, “Truly..” He hesitated for a moment but pull Maeve closer, his thumb running over the back of her left hand that bore the mark. Lifting up slightly. “I care about you, I see the way you look at Alistair, I am not blind but I listen to me, please… I am not innocent, I try to hide the less than savory deeds of my past, but you hide your good. I was a Templar and you are an Apostate… who really should learn how to use her magic. “ Cullen was getting flustered and Maeve could feel her cheeks beginning to flush as he stammered on. “This would never be easy between us, I know this but I can not keep you from my mind for more than a moment. I haven’t felt like this in… a very long time.” He sighed and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Maeve thought his anxiety over confessing his feeling to her was actually, at its core quite sweet. “I am not asking for anything more than a chance, a maybe this could be more than late-night talks. I did not think you were at all interested until I saw you in that dress. Where you just trying it on?” Cullen paused and they looked into each other’s eyes, leaning in as if he was going to kiss her he stopped, asking “Or did you wear it for me?”

Maeve’s cheeks were bright red as he mentions the dress. “I did wear it for you…” Maeve whispered and for the briefest of moment Maeve thought he was going to kiss her but she pulled back before he had a chance. “I have to think about this, this is not a no, by any means but you were a Templar… I am… me…” There was sadness in Maeve’s voice but she knew that she had to think long and hard about what the consequences of getting into bed with an ex-Templar could mean. No one she considered family would approve and it would close any door on what hopes she had to be with Alistair. Not that she believe she had much hope at all in that department.

“Is this a maybe?” Cullen asked softly. He wanted just that glimmer of hope, a possibility of something of a silver lining to all this chaos. Maeve nodded slowly and Cullen smiled. “I can work with a maybe..” A genuine smile played on his lips as he brought her hand finally to his lips and placed a tender, light kiss on her fingertips.

Maeve felt something shift in the air that night as she stood by the lake with Cullen and it was the start of her whole world began to change.

#14dalovers #14 days of da lovers #cullen x inquisitor #maeve/cullen #pre-relationship fluffy angst #ship:fluffy as a porcupine #inkie:maeve #maeve the witch of the frostbacks #cullen/oc #cullen rutherford/oc

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