#and like i just have to survive like four days ish

[starstruckmoony]

electric touch.

masterlist

pairing - theodore nott x reader

summary - a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.

trope/tags - coffee shop!au, modern!au, college!au, muggle!au, out of pocket headcanons

word count - 6.5k

warnings - language, smoking, mentions of sex, light smut-ish (not really)

"get a job at a coffee shop", they said.

"i'll be fun", they said.

bollocks.

working at a café as busy as the three broomsticks certainly had its perks, if you could say so yourself, but it definitely had some godawful cons in the bunch and was terribly annoying in itself. the shop was located in one of the most bustling parts of london, not very far away from a university campus, which meant that one could easily make out the atmosphere inside of it without having to step through the door. it was always filled to the brim with students who all relied on caffeine for survival, many of which you would usually avoid even glancing at during lessons. so between your utterly unendurable acquaintances, occasional out-of-control children, and middle-aged ladies who criticized your every move and complained about their lattes being zero point four degrees too hot, you weren't sure which one irked you more.

your job was barely tolerable, but it wasn't like you had many other options laid out in the first place. you needed the money and you swore to do whatever it takes to pay for your tuition and heaps of other costs that came in the package with it. you went into it with very little enthusiasm, but nevertheless settled for working as a barista, as much as you were dreading the thought of it.

your shift started of normally that day. you were busy serving one of your least favorite friendly customers in world, draco bloody malfoy, and fighting a tempting urge to dunk the drink in your hand all over him. the two of you went way back, there was lots of resentment, some unresolved negative feelings and grudges about situations you could barely remember clearly. primary school, the darkest years of your lives. neither of you bothered much to fix your shitshow of a relationship. you were schoolmates who were sort of friends who didn't like each other very much. he was nice to you when he didn't have a stick up his arse, but he always had stick up his arse. pansy (who was also your coworker) declared you frenemies, and she was sort of onto something.

despite all that dirt, finding him in the shop wasn't an unusual occurrence, and you never got used to his annoying presence or the way your skin literally crawled just seeing him walk through the door. although, you had to admit that you were pretty grateful when he brought his hot beautiful handsome please snog me sir friend with him for some coffee that faithful friday.

"good morning." draco greeted his friend absentmindedly and gave him a short-lived glance before continuing the deadly staredown you two were having. keeping things professional with that little arsehole was a tough challenge. pansy nudged you behind the counter, and then very subtly motioned over to the handsome bloke next your nemesis when you finally gave her some attention.

"did you not order for me?" the guy questioned in disappointment, seeing that only a single cup of coffee was sitting on the counter. one good look at him was all it took for you to realise why pansy was so eager to get you to heed her observations. you sucked in a breath, focus.

"no? do i look like a maid to you?" draco spat, taking a loud, annoying slurp of his freshly-made cappuccino. he scowled in disgust, making your eyes roll backwards into your brain. the man always managed to find something wrong with his order. this time, the stupid drink of his didn't have enough sweetener. his friend coughed to cover up a chuckle.

"i will be filing a complaint." he declared, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"shove it up your arse, hm?" you offered him the fakest, most poisonous smile you could muster, turning to his attractive friend who's order you had to take. he gave draco a rather aggressive shove before he was able to open his mouth again, and then smiled at you sympathetically.

"i admire your patience." he was speaking to you, but even the most oblivious of people would realise that he took a subtle jab at draco. he looked a bit offended, "what the fuck, theo?" just like that, you got his name without even having to ask for it. today must have been your lucky day.

"tell me about it. if throwing drinks into people's faces wasn't listed as strictly forbidden in my job description, i'd be thriving." you responded without thinking, regretting it the moment you spoke. you could only hope that he would take your awful joke well because receiving a judgemental stare and no response at all was the last thing you'd have asked for that morning. but your thoughtlessness did pull something that sounded like a laugh out of theo, and he appeared to be pretty satisfied.

you suddenly felt hot. a handsome guy just laughed at your joke made at his best friend's expense? it made your heart flutter a little bit, kind of like everything else about him. you sighed inwardly, it was totally unfair that somebody as insufferable as draco got his eyes blessed by that man's presence every day.

"am i allowed to order or will you threaten to throw coffee in my face, too?" theo snapped you back to reality. you heard pansy snicker at your awkward stance before she continued talking to draco who got bored of tolerating your abuses and resorted to flirting with her instead. the pretty boy bit back a laugh once he noticed the way your cheeks turned pink. you wished for the earth to swallow you whole.

"yes, of course! sorry, uh, what would you like?" you put on a professional smile, yet you felt like he saw right through you. he was doing things to you by just simply being there. you already knew pansy was going to have a jolly good time teasing you about this.

"uh," his eyes trailed over to the menu on the wall. he looked completely and utterly clueless, but after a moment of silence, he made up his mind, "one black coffee..." he responded a bit uncertainly, as if he was afraid that you were gonna judge his choice of beverage.

"see why i don't order for you?" draco threw a crumpled up receipt into theo's face. you wondered how he managed to be so unphased by it.

"one black coffee?" you queried just to confirm his order, pretending not to notice pansy who's mischievous eyes were set on you. that, and the constant comments she was making about how cute you and theo would look together. you were surprised when draco didn't disagree like the snobby little hipster he was and then call her batshit crazy. maybe magic was real.

"yes." theo cleared his throat, slumping down onto a barstool three seats away from draco. next level damage control. when he found a smoking allowed sign on the wall, he immediately lit a cigarette.

"oh, thank god." you mumbled in relief. theo stared you in amusement, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. if you hadn't met in the middle of a crowded café, you would have kissed him then there. these days, people tend to forget that plain coffee is, in fact, a thing. that in itself isn't so bad, no, but it's pretty horrible for a coffee shop worker who has to balance time spent on making a drink while also satisfying everybody else at the tables. maintaining your sanity was another thing you had to dedicate yourself to, especially with having draco coming in every day.

you quickly got to work, hyperfocusing on the task at hand for the first time in a while - all that in a poor attempt to ignore the way that blush kept creeping up your cheeks. that wasn't the first time you had laid your eyes on a handsome guy at work. many good looking blokes had set their foot into the café, but you rarely ever let it get to you. they would come and go, simple as that. but there was something about the way theo was looking at you that made you feel unbearably giddy, and you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts from going places.

you were too busy preparing his coffee and trying to remain calm to see the way he shyly kept stealing glances at you. he was enthralled, to say the least, and he could not fathom the fact that you were that person draco always complained about. it was impossible. not only did you make him laugh literally ten seconds after he spoke to you for the first time, but your strange relationship with his friend was quite intriguing. and pretty hilarious, if he could say so himself. something was pushing him to find out more about you. he could not keep his eyes off of you, and he was deeply regretting all those times he shut draco down when he suggested they got coffee together. he'd even offer to pay each time, which theo only found more off-putting. the concept of being so nice and inviting was usually unfamiliar to the blonde, but theo eventually guessed that he had his own reasons and motivations for showing up everyday.

you whipped up his coffee in no time, shooting pansy with a death glare because of the way she wiggled her eyebrows at you. you placed the cup in front of him and were thankfully spared of any additional awkwardness when theo grabbed the drink and took a sip. you watched him with burning anticipation in your eyes as he blinked in confusion, "what the fuck are you complaining for?" he turned to a scowling draco who was making sure that everybody knew that he was rather discontented by the way his cappucino was made.

"i have tastebuds." he explained, shooting theo with an aggravated glare. pansy covered her mouth to silence a laugh.

"are they dead?" theo deadpanned.

"are they dead?" draco mocked, and then began sulking like a little child when pansy had to take the order of another customer. 

theo turned to you again, "ignore him," he offered you a comforting smile, "this is the best coffee i've had in a while." he took another large sip of the hot drink. a satisfied smirk appeared on your face. draco flipped you both off. 

"it's probably the beans," you trailed off, "although, brewing it does require some talent." it was true. pansy herself admitted that you made better coffee than her, multiple times, but that was probably because she proudly half-assed all of her work knowing that it won't cost her much. it helped you out tremendously when you had nothing else to brag about.

thoughtlessly, you continued speaking to theo, completely forgetting that your shift had not yet come to an end, and that you had well over two hours of work left. theo possessed the power to snap you back to reality, but was even more skillfull at pulling you out of it. your mind fully dismissed where you were. you learned a few things about him; he lived with draco, enzo and mattheo, who you got to meet after blaise and pansy dragged you to a random nightclub not so long ago. he had a persian cat who he named 'cat' because he wasn't creative enough to come up with anything that hit the spot and lorenzo made a pledge to make fun of him for it till the day they both die. he liked black coffee only, and no it was not a metaphore for the colour of his soul or some out of pocket bullshit that you heard way too often for comfort, he was just that basic. insane too, as he didn't put any sugar in it. you missed the basic, though, and it was a nice breather from all the ridiculousness you had to deal with on a day to day basis. he also happened to have seen your favourite movie, and that opened the door to about ten other conversation topics that you could go on about for hours upon hours. you were so immersed in the discussion that neither of you realised draco left, with pansy's number (which he finally acquired after three months of asking for it) written down somewhere in his notebook.

the sound of a stranger's throat clearing stopped you mid sentence, and you were rudely reminded that you were still at work, with lots of drinks to prepare, and many more customers to serve. curse them, whoever they were. they were practically forcing you to get theo's contact information, which would have been totally fine if it wasn't for the thought of rejection that was tearing your insides up into pieces.

you and theo offered some empty words of apology to the older man who pulled you out of your own little world and returned you to the misery that was present day. you sighed, exchanging a longing glance with the boy in front of you as if you hadn't just talked to him casually for twenty whole mintues, all while the line was gradually growing. not to mention that you both had places to be.

"here," theodore stuffed a hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling out what looked like twenty quid and sliding in front of you. you opened the cash register to fish out the amount of money you were supposed to give back to him, but he shook his head. there was no way in hell he was leaving that big of a tip. or maybe he was. you not only spent almost half an hour making his day better, but he liked your coffee so much you had to make him three, one being on the house.

you let out a laugh of surprise at the serious expression on his face, silently wishing for him to walk out and retrieve the money like any sane person would. at that point, just simply being graced by his presence was more than enough. you didn't even want the damn tip. your thoughts caused an onset of panic to flow through you. you weren't thinking straight at all.

"thank you." you spoke finally, contemplating whether you should ask him for his number or not. pansy's look of anticipation seemed to be heading in the exact direction you were most terrified of. thank god theo was being a wuss too.

"i'll see you around." he smiled as he made his way over to the exit, and you nodded enthusiastically, giving him a small wave as he stepped through the door and out into the streets.

you sighed when he finally disappeared out of your line of sight, failing to notice the way a few of the customers waiting in line were holding back their giggles after having witnessed the whole commotion. you weren't sure if you wanted to fly around like happy little fairy or burst into a million pieces and disappear off the face of the earth, but you knew that you were very spontaneously falling for theo and there was no going back.

***

a few weeks had gone by since theodore first came into the three broomsticks. and many things changed, one being that you began looking forward to coming into that hellhole which was a 'goal' rotting away somewhere in the far bottom of your bucket list. you'd never been more happy having to wake up at seven in the bloody morning to grind coffee beans and serve annoying londoners. it was laughable how you jumped from hating your job to getting excited by the thought of showing up to work. life was indeed full of surprises.

theo made sure to come in every morning (or afternoon, depending when you had your shift), and would always stay much longer than he intended, or so he told himself. he was awful at balancing university and personal life, but he was willing to make some sacrifices for you, even if it meant that he had to endure some never-ending teasing from his friends. blaise came in from time to time to enjoy the show live, mattheo called him a softie, enzo thought the whole thing was too hilarious to be real, and draco was giving him the cold shoulder (lovingly).

"oi!" pansy nudged you with her elbow. you were just about to brush her off as you were busy with the ice dispenser, but when she motioned with her head towards the door, your breath hitched.

theodore stepped through the entrance, and he somehow looked even prettier than he was when you saw him yesterday. you swiftly whipped up the order that you were working on and bid the customer goodbye when they confirmed that their to-go macchiato was perfectly made.

he smiled at you as he took a seat at his usual spot, and you grinned back in response before returning to work. it was awfully difficult not to lose focus when he was sitting there looking like a god sent gift, and you were getting frustrated with yourself. you could see pansy smirking at you in the corner of your eye, and you groaned quietly as you began working on another drink.

you were starting to get very impatient while you were busy with the other customers, but after making several cappuccinos and dealing with an angry man who's twelve espresso shot latte was too bitter, you finally got to speak to theo.

"hello." a greeting. a bloody greeting was all it took to make you blush furiously. you mentally applauded yourself with some heavy sarcasm. you were doing a great job at not being obvious.

"hi." you responded breathlessly, making him chuckle at your rather dishevelled state. pansy was having a very difficult time trying to stifle her laughter, but she remained professional and continued helping her costumer.

"so, i've been thinking...today." he cleared his throat, wiping the sweat on his palms on his black jeans.

"okay," you chuckled, "i'm listening." you tilted your head to the side slightly, curious to see what he had to offer. you hoped it's what you thought it was, but you didn't want to get excited too early. for all you know, he could be asking you for a favour or help to sort him a working spot at the café itself.

"right," he looked a bit uncertain. he gulped, hesitating before letting his words form decently, "my roommates are having a movie night and i'm not exactly sure what they have in mind, but that's besides the point," he rambled, letting out a displeased huff. something was definitely wrong with him today. when he went over this with mattheo, it seemed incredibly easy, but now that he was going through with it, he felt as if his downfall was inevitable, "i was wondering if you wanted to join us." he forced a smile, the internal prayer of please say yes was becoming so loud his thoughts became clouded. it's not like he couldn't handle rejection. frankly, he was fairly good at it and rarely ever let it touch his ego, but not in situations like these. not when he was actually falling in love and able to picture his life with somebody.

you weren't sure if it was possible for your cheeks to get any more red than they already were, but you quickly learned the harsh truth when you heard draco snort rather loudly.

you weren't that shocked by theo's suggestion, no, but it seemed to good to be true. so good that you had to pinch your arm behind the counter where he couldn't see it to make sure you weren't dreaming. he silently panicked for a moment, but when he saw the lovestruck expression on your face, he turned red himself. he sort of bid farewell to his intimidating, mysterious persona the moment he first met you, too enthralled to try and keep it up, and this was barely what was left of it. it was long gone. draco wished he had brought a camera with him.

"of course, i'd love to." you responded, without a sign of doubt in your voice. he smiled, breathing out a sigh of relief. he scrunched his face thinking how desperate he must've looked, but nevertheless continued the conversation. the speed with which you accepted his offer made him feel a strong surge of confidence, "when does your shift end?" he questioned as you began preparing his coffee.

"seven, remus is letting us off an hour earlier tonight. he said he had somewhere to be." you looked over at pansy who was giving you a not very subtle thumbs up. you rolled your eyes at her with a stupid grin on your face.

theo felt on top of the world. his eyes never left you, he watched you work, and only got snapped back to reality when pansy addressed him and asked him to close his mouth before he starts drooling all over the counter. he blushed profusely, and you tried not to laugh at him, but failed miserabley when you turned around and handed him his drink.

he groaned and covered his face with his hands, having no other option but to laugh along with you. "you should've seen her face when you came in," pansy winked at you with a mischievous smirk. you kicked her from behind the counter for that comment, and she blew a kiss your way before handing draco his coffee, "you know, nott," she started, pretending like she was thinking about what to say next, you should put that mouth of yours to use soon so she finally shuts up about–" you scrambled to cover her mouth before she could finish that.

"how's your coffee?" you changed the subject, turning to him innocently.

"perfect." he gave you a brief nod, not daring to spare draco or your friend another glance. you yanked your own hand away when pansy licked it, muttering a few curse words as you reached over to the sink to wash her spit off.

you turned to theo with an apologetic smile, making a mental note to murder pansy after your shift, and the two of you held eye contact for what felt like a goddamn hour to all the people impatiently waiting to get served. you simply could not get enough of those beautiful green eyes. they were so, very distracting.

"can you two eye-fuck after i get my overpriced tea?" lorenzo decided to make a surprise (dramatic) appearance. fair point he had there. you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, and theo only rolled his eyes, wordlessly reaching for a cigarette. that was his one way of dealing with lorenzo.

"are you gonna bring your entire friend group in here or what?" pansy exclaimed in disbelief, thinking she would spot mattheo sitting at a table somewhere in the corner.

"i'm not bringing them here, they're following me around like annoying fucking flies." draco jumped to defend himself. the poor guy was never able to escape the countless of false accusations thrown his way. you were loving every bit of it.

"that should tell you something." lorenzo sat himself next to draco. "huh?"

"you smell." he purposefully leaned in too close for comfort, successfully avoiding the harsh shove the blonde was preparing to give him.

"what the fuck, are you five?" draco stared at him with obvious judgement. theo shortly glanced at the pair, and then shifted his full attention back to you. as funny as watching them bicker was, he found you a lot more captivating. and besides, his day was going quite alright (minus pansy's comment about him drooling all over the counter), so he wasn't looking to ruin it by getting involved in playfighting with his idiot friends.

the boys took about an hour to leave, and when they did, they made sure to let you know that theo was going to make you very happy, emphasis on the what's in his pants part. well, lorenzo did, at least, draco wished to leave the moment his friend opened his mouth and started listing all of the reasons why one should date theodore nott.

"and also, he will very much– hey, i'm not done!" theo ignored lorenzo's protests, and proceeded to push him towards the exit with draco on their tail. they all waved you goodbye, although enzo did it quite reluctantly, he wasn't ready to leave yet. theo offered you one last smile before stepping out the door, and you mouthed a quick goodbye, your face redder than ever.

"do you think he's good in bed?" pansy suddenly quipped while she was cleaning up the coffee spilled around the espresso machine. "who?" you shot her with a perplexed glare. you were not about to have this conversation with her.

"draco." she said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"good god," you mumbled to yourself. at least she wasn't trying to get you to talk about theodore, "i don't know and i don't want to know."

"hm," she stared at nothing while she spoke, "i wonder if that's how he gets all his anger out." she said thoughtfully before shrugging it off like she didn't just make you picture the most atrocious thing known to man. you never wished for theo to be there more so he could save you from whatever grotesque form of nightmare that was, and you certainly hoped that pansy wasn't going to attempt to test out her little theory tonight, as draco had invited her over in the meantime, too.

***

patienece was something you heavily managed to work on while working at three broomsticks, and you could say that you had successfully mastered the art of it in your four months spent there. you could also say that meeting theo was the biggest fuck you to all of the progress you had made.

the remaining two hours of your shift ended up turning into what felt like an eternity of torture. pansy had to keep a careful eye on you, a bit mortified that you might just strike an innocent customer. if looks could kill, yours definitely would. you best believe she told draco about that.

it wasn't all so sullen, though. your misery did not last forever. at last, the clock struck seven. but there was one thing you did not consider when you thoughtlessly agreed to show up at theo's place at eight, and that was that you'd have a little over thirty minutes to make yourself look presentable. the moment your shift ended, you sprinted to the staff room to collect your things, gave pansy a clumsy hug, and left the shop light speed.

you always felt incredibly lucky that your dormitory facility was very close to your workplace, but today that feeling was extraordinarily more intense. you made it there in less than five minutes, cursing the out of order elevator and swiftly climbing up the stairs to third floor where you were situated.

you burst through the door, out of breath, immediately ridding of your clothes and disappearing inside your tiny bathroom. you couldn't recall the last time you took a shower so quickly. not even ten minutes later, you were back inside of your room, rummaging through your dresser in search of something cute to wear. it was rather sad that you just then noticed that hermione, your trusted roommate, was not there. she stuck a post it note to her headboard, explaining that ron's parents invited her over for dinner and that she'll be spending the night at his place. just when you needed her, she wasn't there.

"fuck." you cursed, continuing to ransack the drawers of your small commode. trousers were out the window. the best pair you owned was in the wash, the other three were an immediate no. you weren't sure what the dress code for a movie night was, exactly, but wearing your over-the-top fake leather trousers did seem like a bit much. maybe that should have been your sign to get some new ones.

you yanked the bottom drawer open and managed to dig up some clean socks and a large jumper (one that you weren't even certain was yours), and when you couldn't find your favourite sweatpants, you snatched a pair of jeans from hermione's closet. you could only hope that they would keep you comfortable for however long that little movie marathon was going to last.

you shuffled the clothes on, you didn't have enough time to try on anything else, and quickly did your make up just so you looked a bit more presentable. bless pansy and her patience when she was helping you step up your eyeliner game. you took a few improvised mirror selfies to send to her, emotional support and all that, grabbed your coat, slid your old low docs on, and bolted out the door.

it had begun to get dark before you even stepped outside, and with the sun disappearing behind the horizon, it got colder, too. you were very happy that the boys' flat wasn't located too far away from your dormitories, and you could make it there in about ten minutes if you tried hard enough. good thing you knew the address, as you had the displeasure of having to visit draco a couple of times when you got assigned to work on a project together. he always made sure that his friends were out whenever you showed up there. you were hoping that your experience would be a little better this time, but you didn't worry much. you were going there for theo, so how bad could that really go?

you didn't even want to think of it as you stepped in front of the entrance of their flat, and pressed your finger to the doorbell to alert them that you'd made it. mattheo opened the door for you and grinned like an idiot, very obviously trying his hardest to fight away his inner demons that were pushing him to crack some stupid joke on your and theo's account.

"do not." you threatened, and he raised his hands up in defeat, moving out of the way and letting you walk through the door. he waited for you to kick your shoes off, and then politely led you further inside, no unnecessary comments made.

you didn't expect the boys to make it all look so comfortable, but you had to admit that you had underestimated them. they brought out some extra pillows so that whoever sits on the floor doesn't leave with sore buttocks, fluffy blankets with star wars patterns, an old beanbag, lots of different food to choose from, and a crate of beer shoved under the table. huh, you could definitely see yourself enjoying that.

draco, unsurprisingly, didn't say hello when you stepped into the living room, but lorenzo offered you a different kind of greating.

"theo, your girlfriend's here!" he announced, loud enough for the neighbours on the fifth floor to hear.

"piss off, enzo!" theo yelled from what you assumed was his bedroom, and then stepped out a few seconds later, flipping lorenzo off when he wiggled his eyebrows. what a child. he grabbed a hold of theo's wrist and kissed the offending finger.

"good evening to you too." you gave him a pointed look, letting out a noise of surprise when theo took a gentle hold of your hand and led you to the couch. he mumbled something along the lines of, "you look pretty", and you offered him a smile in response, not willing to attract any more attention. draco had already claimed the spot sofa, explaining that he and nobody else is allowed there, so the two of you settled on the floor without a fight, sitting so close your shoulders were touching.

pansy showed up not very long after you, and lorenzo was more than happy to have the long awaited movie marathon finally start. it didn't go down without bickering, obviously, and after twenty excruciating minutes of arguing if you should watch notting hill, poltergeist or fight club, pansy grabbed the remote and put on 10 things i hate about you. nobody really complained.

you and theo managed to avoid the hand accidentally touches hand part of sharing a bowl of popcorn, but then your legs somehow tangled under the blankets and neither of you bothered to move or apologise.

in the meantime, lorenzo shifted from his chair to the beanbag mattheo was in, and had the other cuddle him against his own will. not like he actually minded. it was a miracle that thing was big enough, one wrong move and they'd both be on the floor along with their bags of funny-flavoured crisps.

the beloved rom-com felt like it came to an end sooner than it started, and you were all already arguing on what to watch next. mattheo took the advantage to grab the remote when draco reached over to hit lorenzo, and clicked on dirty dancing without asking for a second opinion. two romance movies in a row. somebody was out to get you. draco groaned in protest, but pansy gave him a kick to shut him up. yes, he let her sit on the couch with him, but her, and her only.

halfway through, you felt theo shift next to you, and not long after, he threw an arm around your shoulders, nervously holding you before relaxing when you didn't move away. you smiled to yourself and shuffled closer, the warmth radiating from his body was addicting. you could get used to it. the thought of pulling away seemed ludicrously dreadful and the concept of time became unfamiliar.

you only realised how long you had been squashed together when it hit you that the second movie was coming to an end, too. there were barely twenty minutes left, and you felt your eyes beginning to flutter shut. not because you were bored, you were just simply exhausted. theo quickly noticed, and he let you lay your head on his shoulder, but falling asleep was the last thing you wanted to do.

"god, i could really use a coffee right now." you groaned and you rubbed at your eyes, covering your mouth as you yawned. you needed a little something to keep you awake, and your trusted caffeine would surely do the job.

"come on, i'll make you some." theo stood, helping you up and not letting go of your hand as you made your way towards the kitchen. mattheo questioned where you were going, and nodded skeptically after receiving a short response. the other three didn't care, either too immersed into the movie or occupied with other things.

you took a seat on the counter next to theo where he opened the cupboards, his eyes searching for whichever form of caffeine they had left in there. he pulled out a half empty jar of instant coffee, and looked at you unsurely, unknowing whether you'd want to drink it or not.

"just make me whatever, it's fine." you waved a dismissive hand, and he gave you a quick nod before getting to work. not that it took much effort.

it was almost done in an instant, hence the name. you didn't mind, though, coffee was coffee, and coffee could never be bad. although, you weren't really paying attention to what he was doing, a little too busy staring at his face to notice anything else.

"tell me if it's horrible." he said as he handed you the hot drink. you hopped off the counter and thanked him before you pressed the mug to your lips and took a tiny sip. you tried not to grimace, and politely took another one. it was not good.

"it's good." you choked out, holding back a cough and forcing a supportive smile. theo didn't look very convinced, you doubted he was, and he took a step closer, like he was about to confront you about your little white lie.

"be honest." he sighed, yet there was a sort of menace behind the disappointed look on his face.

"it's terrible." you failed to hold back a snicker, feeling a little sorry that his coffee tasted just that bad. he was lucky you had some tips up your sleeve, "it's so bad, what did you–" to say that you were absolutely flabbergasted when he kissed you would be an understatement. you didn't push him away, nor did you resist, you were simply too shocked to react.

you laughed in surprise when he pulled back, your jaw hanging open slightly. then he leaned in again, but you had enough time to react this time, so you kissed him back, despite feeling a bit lightheaded by it all. it was one of the strangest situations you had found yourself in in a long time, but were enjoying every little bit of it.

"i literally just criticized your–" he quickly hushed you, going in for another kiss. you giggled against his lips and set the cofee mug aside, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your hand tangle his locks. theo could fucking collapse. there was something about the way you grabbed his hair, something that made him see colours he didn't even know existed. you weren't oblivious enough to miss the way he reacted, pressing his body closer to yours and tightening his grip around you, so you did it again, smirking in satisfaction when it drew a pleasant sound of approval from him.

his tongue brushed over your bottom lip, and you let out a tiny noise of surprise, feeling your knees buckle. without dwelling on it, you opened your mouth, and when his tongue touched your own, you gasped, maybe even whimpered, accidentally pulling on his hair a bit too harshly. theo didn't seem to mind. he grunted in response, you were making him forget that there was nothing but a wall separating you from your friends.

"you just missed the best– oh, fuck, my bad, continue please, sorry!" mattheo disappeared as fast as he appeared, his footsteps followed by laughter and the end credits of dirty dancing which got increasingly louder. courtesy of draco turning it up to drown out any unholy noises he suspected might come from the kitchen after seeing the look mattheo's face.

you pulled away from each other, too flustered to even laugh, your lips swollen and cheeks pink. theo's grip on your waist loosened, and you relaxed your arms, but still didn't pull them away from where they were wrapped around his neck. he leaned his forehead against yours, uneven breaths fanning over your lips.

"uh," you started, as speechless as he was, "have i mentioned that my dorm was empty for the night?"

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fanfiction #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

[girl8890]

JK | Cabin in The Woods

word count: 6.7k

Summary: Everyone knows to stay out of the forest, but through a dare you ventured in… you just never came out. Meeting a wolf that says he needs you to survive, and you have no one else to give your love to but the animal that uses you every night.

Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Genre: yandere, supernatural!au, horror!au, smut, angst, some fluff (if you squint)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: bullying, disfiguration of body parts, breaking of bone, mate bonding, possessiveness, implied murder, blood, eating of people & living animals, implied/attempt at rape/non-con, vaginal sex, cream pie, cock warming, pussy sniffing & kissing, jk is horny for reader 99% of the time, kinda stockholm syndrome-ish, easily manipulated reader, dom!jk, sub!reader, lonely!reader

A/N: The best way I can explain this fic is that jk has actual wolf tendencies. He’s more wolf than man, so you’ll find that he relates more to a wolf in this fic than to his human half. I had a dream about this, probably should see a therapist, but here we’re instead! I hope you enjoy, my yandere lovers! 😌

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You don’t know why you agreed to the dare. It was stupid to even think nothing would happen to you.

All you wanted was to make some friends, so when some people in your hometown asked you to come to their party, you were all for it. When you got to said party, it wasn’t what you were expecting. Everyone’s eyes were on you, and the peer pressure was to the max. Somehow a game of truth of dare started, and now your here—alone in the woods because you were one of the few daring people at that party.

You weren’t daring, though, and the dare wasn’t random. It was pointed at you by a couple of college kids that wanted to pick on the loner girl. You realized this after the hour in the haunted forest definitely went by, and no one came to save you.

North became south, and west became east. Any direction you pointed yourself in, you would find yourself trailing deeper and deeper into the woods where too many tourists and even a few locals never came out of.

You swore the forest was even playing tricks on you. Swearing that each tree looked the same, and the fog got thicker with each step you took. You didn’t stop your hurried walking, to try and get out of the forest as quickly as possible, until you heard a snap of a twig from behind you. Slowly turning your head, something you never thought in your twenty-two years of life you would ever see was standing right above you on a rock.

It was a wolf.

Not just any wolf. A snarling, big, yellow eyed, and black furred scary looking wolf that still had animal carcass from an earlier dinner hanging out of its mouth. And you had a feeling it wanted you for desert. You, for some reason, thought if you stayed still that it wouldn’t see you. Like all the movies about predators not being able to see their prey if it stayed still. Well, you very quickly realized this is not Jurassic Park and the wolf lunged at you.

You screamed, sliding somehow just out of the way from the wolfs attack, and then booked it. Running as fast as you can, and screaming as loud as you can. You claimed this day to be the worst one of your life because even as you ran like hell, the wolf still followed closely behind. Four big paws hitting the ground way faster then your two feet were.

You think you may have run a mile that day just trying to get away from the wolf. When you finally decided to look back and see the beast, you were finally able to skid to a stop when you see it’s not behind you. You breathe out a sigh of relief… but that relief didn’t last long.

Just as you turn back around, the same beast as before springs out of the shadows and tackles you to the ground. The beast hunted you. It made you think it left and had you let your guard down. Stupid mistake because now your done for. 

The beast growled in your face, and pinned your entire body to the ground. It’s sharp, huge teeth dripping with drool right on your face. This was it. This was going to be the end of your life, and you were going to be apart of the many that ventured into this forest and never came out.

Tears streamed down your face, and because you felt desperate you even begged the wild animal. “Please… I-I’m not ready to die.”

In that moment, you thought you even heard the wolf laugh. A heavy chuckle coming from its snot. But in that moment, when the beast was laughing at your pathetic pleads, it sniffed the air around you and then it’s pupils dilated. The wolf inhaled again, this time pressing its snout right against your neck, and making you shake with fear when you thought it was going to bite you.

There was a moment of silence, the wolf keeping its nose against your neck, and then it retracted it’s snout away from you. Everything happened so fast after that…

The sound of bone crunching was the first thing you heard, but it wasn’t your own. The creature above you backed away a messily bit, and it was only because the head of it was melting away. It’s then you realize it’s body was transforming into something you’ve never seen before. Body parts coming out of its skin, and constant sounds of broken bones snapping as each piece of the wolfs limbs melted away into one of… something else.

When the first limb that was being created out of the wolf became whole, you realize it was one of a persons. A man’s hand attached to a whole arm as each piece of him clicked together. It was a gruesome and slow process to watch. One that would of had you gagging if you weren’t so focused on the once wolf turning into a man.

When each bone finally clicked in place, a man that would of had you swooning by his looks alone any other day was kneeling above you. His hair was close to hitting his shoulders, and to the opposite of what you would expect from a creature like him, his skin was smooth to the touch except a singular small mole under his lip. His lips were pink, chapped, but plump and they were above a jaw line that most women would compliment as being sculpted from the gods.

It’s then, as more silence stretches on and you’re now staring into two brown eyes that were once yellow, that you put the pieces together of what creature us standing before you. Of what creature—this very muscular, and very naked, creature of a man has been doing in these woods too. Making countless people disappear, and having too many people afraid to even step foot into these wood because of it. Because of him.

“Werewolf,” You say at the same time the beast above you says, “Mate.”

And that was the day your life changed forever.

———

Nobody missed you. Nobody went out searching for you. You assumed everyone at the party thought you died, so that was the end of loner girl y/n. Probably didn’t even have a memorial like all the other forest disappearances.

You had no parents to worry about you. Your mom died over a year ago from complications, and eventually your father died soon after from a broken heart. No siblings or other close relatives to wonder about you, so you were stuck. Stuck in the woods with the only person—being, wolf, whatever—that actually showed he… cared?

You’ve be in a small cabin in the woods with him for three months now. It was a cabin that if an people passed by—not that they would venture in to the woods or get that close to begin with—wouldn’t think twice about it being abandoned and nothing worth exploring. But on the inside was everything a girl like you needed.

A somehow working bathroom, a small kitchen right in front of the door, and a queen sized bed (that’s more of a mattress on top of a old bed holder) that was pushed into the corner of the small cabin. With a blanket and two pillows on top of it. One pillow that ironically had a picture of a wolf sewed into the fabric of the pillow case. Everything a girl like you needed to survive was in this small space.

And everything the werwolf needed, Jungkook you found out his name was the day you met him, was you and what was in the last door of the cabin. The door that opened up to a set of steep stairs, and held nothing but a steal cage in the middle. That’s where he held you the first week you stayed here. Trapped and forced to endorse his ritual of claiming you as his. Teaching you how to be the perfect little submissive human to his dominate wolf.

He never took you as a an actual wolf luckily, but he did take you that first meeting in the woods. On the ground, with your clothes ripped apart, and you crying and screaming for him to stop. It wasn’t until he bit into your neck, forever claiming you as his mate, that it felt like your whole world shifted.

Suddenly it was like you could do nothing but submit to him. You still had resolve, though. And that’s why he kept you in the cage for so long. A week may not seem like much, but it did for you. Especially when he—allegedly—left you down there at night. He didn’t let you out until you promised never to leave, and after three months you’re still here.

You’re currently washing a dish in the small sink in the kitchen. You just ate lunch of what you assumed was rabbit, Jungkook being the one to hunt for yours and his food, and once your done with cleaning it you put it on a towel to dry. You look up from the sink at the same time Jungkook as a wolf came into view of the small window in the kitchen above the sink. You can see he’s holding in his mouth what looks to be a deer, and you grimace as you think about how he killed it.

You open the cabins front door when he gets close enough to the house, and move off to the side so the big wolf can squeeze himself into the house. Shutting the door behind him, he came in into the kitchen area and dropped the dead deer on the floor. You crotch onto the floor in front of what you presume to be dinner, and you aren’t scared of the wolf’s fangs as he continues to heave out breathes next to you.

You haven’t been scared of his wolf for a long time.

“Poor Bambi,” You say as you pet the deers snout. Earning a growl from Jungkook as you touch the dead deer so tenderly, and then he pushes his own snout in between your hand and the deer so you can then pet him. “Stupid wolf.”

You smile as the wolf laughs. A husky chuckle of a noise you remember used to confuse you when you heard it, but now you know it as him laughing in wolf form.

He then backs away from your hand after a few scratches, and you look away as he begins to transform into the man you were forced to love. The only person you love.

The sound of broken bone came from your right, but it wasn’t until you feel a human nose against you cheek that you turn to see a hairless faced Jungkook. His hair is still a bit long, but you convinced him to cut it a little shorter and even chop a part of it completely off. Making it look like he had a buzzed portion of a quarter of his hair. He’s currently naked, but you ignore that fact. Being very used to his naked form by now.

“Hello stupid wolf,” You say in greeting with a small smile, and you watch his own smile twitch up for a second. He then pushes his face forward, and you let your eyes drift shut when you know he’s about to take in your smell. Something he always does when going into human form and being in front of you.

He first presses his nose back onto your cheek, it wiggling a little as it touches you. Then he moves his nose to your own, and glides it next over your two eyes. Sniffing and inhaling every few seconds. It isn’t until he goes to your lips that you allow your eyes to open half-lidded.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but he senses you staring at him so he opens his own eyes. Two pools of brown looking back at you as he slowly presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you know his eyes are still open. It’s a small, barely any pressure type of kiss and you always think he’s doing it more for you then for him. He knows he doesn’t need to kiss you to earn your love, to own you, but he kisses you anyway.

After a moment of the soft pressure of his kiss to you, he detaches from your lips. You flutter your eyes open, and you hear a quiet growl rumble from his chest. Making your eyes flicker down to where you believe it sounded from.

“Hello… Y/n,” Jungkook says with a broken up voice. You think he’s never talked in his human form until he met you. At least not for a long time, so hearing his voice now is a rarity but you can’t help yourself and smile at him as he practices speaking.

“Yes, I’m y/n.” You press your hand to your chest. “And your Jungkook.” And then you press that same hand onto Jungkook’s naked chest right above his slowly beating heart.

You watch the corner of his lips twitch up again into a small smile, and you wonder what it would look like for him to actually smile. With teeth and all.

“Yes,” Jungkook says simply as he nods at you. He then takes his face away from so close to you, and aims his sights on the bite mark he left on you during the first day you met. You softly gasp when you feel his finger touch the surface of your neck. Gliding his fingers around the jagged teeth marks that will never go away. He then says with a mouth full of clenched sharp teeth, “Mine.”

And you’re his. He’s drilled it enough into your mind and body that you’re his. That he needs you to survive because a wolf without his mate is futile. Just like how your father died without your mother, Jungkook would die without you.

He may have brought up the situation in parts, and started this relationship in a terrible way, but he’s been alone and stuck in his wolf for a very long time. He didn’t know what “no” meant, and everything humans learned about consent and taking things slow into a relationship was nonexistent to him. So, he did what he does best when he wants something, he took it. Took you right there on the forest floor, and came deep inside you as he bit against your neck hard. Claiming you to him and his wolf forever.

Jungkook then slowly departs his finger from your neck, and wraps his arms around your arms and back. Your arms are sandwiched in between the two of you, and you’ve come to learn he likes to hold you this way. Having you safely protected in his arms, and he can easily bring his whole body on top of you so he can scent all of you at once. You pull your legs to your chest, knowing he’s going to scoop them up after he’s done sniffing your hair.

With one last whiff of your hair, he rubs his nose on top of your head. He then, just like you thought, scoops your legs up with one arm and supports your back with the other. Picking you up bridal style, and looking down at you as he caries you to the bed.

Your cradled and squished against him the whole ten steps there, but the whole way feels so safe. You would think a wolf like him that has such animal tendencies would be the worst place for you to be, but overtime you recognized it as the safest place for you. No one could touch you as long as your with him.

But that just means the big bad wolf would always have the ability to touch you.

———

Some time later, when your clothes are stripped off of you and your stomach is being pressed against the mattress, Jungkook drives his cock roughly into you from behind. It’s a rough, hard, and rocky affair every night. That’s right, every night.

The only times he doesn’t take you is when you’re on your period, and that’s because he hates the smell of blood on you. Keeping his distance and staying in wolf form the whole week, so he doesn’t temp himself in his human form.

Your hands are holding onto the front of the mattress in a tight grip, and his hands are clamped on top of yours as he continues to drive into you on repeat. Your moaning so loud it sounds like a scream, and each time you feel his hips press against you to go as deep inside you as possible you arch your back as a quivering sensation goes off in your stomach. Indicating you’re going to cum for the first time that night soon.

Jungkook grunts above you in a animistic way when he feels your pussy clench around his length. Making the teeth of his wolf elongate when his peek gets closer. His cock continues to drill into you at a fast pace as he brings his mouth down onto your neck. He doesn’t bite you, but he does apply a soft pressure of his teeth onto the bite mark he left there three months ago.

He doesn’t need to bite because he knows you know he already owns you. He owns your body, and he knows it so well by now that he doesn’t need to repeat the hurtful mark again. Just laying the sharp teeth across the ridges is enough of a reminder to what you are to him.

With a few more thrusts, banging his hips against your ass, your cumming along side him as he groans into your neck and you moan into the mattress. You lay there, heavy breathing going off from the both of you as your highs decrease. Jungkook takes his teeth off of you and then licks the surface of your neck. A little blood trickling down it since his orgasm was so harsh he bit down on you a little.

When he’s done cleaning your neck, whimpering a little to say sorry for making you bleed, he flips you over without pulling out of you and starts up his thrusts again. Caging your head and arms underneath him, with his arms holding himself above you next to your head. It’s like he didn’t just cum and reck your whole head space as he begins fucking you again. You expected this, though. It’s never just one round, not even two!

He continues to fuck you over and over again, placing you in new positions that keep you surrounded by his body after each time he cums deep within your clenching walls. Not a single time he’ll speak, either. Only you moaning and crying out your pleasure can be heard aside from his occasional grunt as he finishes inside of you. But the faces he makes are enough to have your mind going dirty besides doing the act itself.

When you get a chance to see his face, it’s so sexy it makes you clench around him. His mouth will be wide open in bliss, and his eyes squeezed shut. It looks like he can’t take how good you feel, but he still chases the feeling every time. Wanting to make you cum just as much as he wants to cum.

He fucks you so many times that it gets to the point tonight that you lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and as he was placing you sideways to thrust into you again you felt yourself drift into unconsciousness.

———

Waking up was a start. The sun was blaring from outside the window, and you blink your eyes open to see it. Your body wasn’t sore since it’s gotten used to how rough he is on you over the months you’ve been here, and you look down to see his arms wrapped around your naked middle. You bite your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way you could get out of his hold without waking the softly snoring Jungkook behind you.

As you wiggle in his grasp, staring to remove yourself from him gently, you realize there was no way to get up without him noticing. And that was because he’s still inside you. Still hard too, which was unexpected. You turn slightly around to see the handsome wolfs face, looking innocent as ever as he sleeps.

Softly, you reach out and cup his cheek with your hand. Trying to coax him awake with a few rubs of your palm. Instead of waking up, though, he rubs his face into your hand like a puppy. Wanting you to continue what you’re doing even as he sleeps. You hold back your laughter as Jungkook begs for your rubs, but you drop your hand altogether.

Instead of waking up from the lack of rubs, his face starts trying to find where the amazing sensation went. It isn’t until his nose gets buried in your hair, him sniffing up a big whiff of your small and gripping you a little tighter in his grasp, that he blinks his eyes open.

He pulls his face out of your hair, looking down at you like he didn’t realize it was for a second, but then the corners of his mouth are switching up when he sees it’s you he’s holding.

“Goodmorning,” You whisper to him with a smile. He hums his own version of saying good morning, then he wraps his other arm around your middle and pulls you flush again him.

You cry out when his cock that’s still inside you impalas you deeper, and then he letting go you altogether when he hears your cry. He must of not noticed he was inside you until now, gently taking his slowly softening cock out of you, and he looks at you frantic when he thinks he hurt you. Hovering his hands above your arms and looking strained as he tries to push out the word, “Hurt?”

You swallow, pulling yourself together as the rough pain to your dry pussy lessens, and you shake your head and smile again at him. “Nope, just surprised me.”

He looks at you unconvinced, and because he doesn’t know what boundaries mean, he pulls your legs apart and inspects you himself.

“Jungkook!” You scream as you try to cover your core from him. He’s scene it plenty of times, but besides to aim his cock at you he’s never directly looked at it before. He still pulls your hands away from you, pinning them against your one leg as he pulls your legs wide apart. Your beat red in the face and chest now as he just stares at your core so closely. “S-stop it.”

He looks up at you, and his eyes say more then any words can. Matching with his pointed frown, his big doe eyes look up at you saddened. Even though he’s been rough with you many times in the past, using you every night for his own pleasure even if he coaxes your own in the process, he hates the thought of you hurt. That’s also why he hates you bleeding because blood means hurting, and hurting means pain, which should never involve itself with his mate.

Looking back down at you pussy, he slowly places a singular kiss onto your slit. You clench your eyes shut at the press of his lips on you. And then your full on grunting when you feel and hear him smell your pussy up close. You know it’s just him saying “I’m sorry I hurt you,” since you taught him kisses could help when someone is hurt, and the smelling is so he can check that you’re not bleeding. But out of all things, your pussy should not be getting kissed and smelt this way!

After a few more embarrassed wiggles from you, Jungkook finally clears that you’re okay and lets you go. You pout at the wolf that looks confused at why you’re upset, and you roll out of bed. As you start getting changed, you hear the cracking of bone behind you. Within seconds Jungkook is back in his wolf form, and pressing his snout against your clothed back.

You sigh, turning around and looking down at the wolf who’s staring up at you so apologetically, and you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah you stupid wolf.”

You pet him in between the ears, now seeing a smile on the wolfs face and you return a human smile of your own. One with a lot less drool. Then you head for the door, stopping when you realize the deer from last night is still on the ground from last night and look an accusing eye at the beast who brought it here. Jungkook crocks his wolf head at you, not understanding the look you’re sending him.

“Did you really just leave that thing on the floor?” He looks to where you’re pointing, and his ears perk up. Walking up to the fly swarming carcass, instead of throwing it away or putting it in the fridge, he starts to eat it whole.

You grimace as you watch him a second too long, never getting use to seeing that happen in front of you, and then you head out the cabin to start your day.

Your day usually consists of tending to the small garden behind the cabin. It’s nothing incredible, but enough that you won’t be eating dead deer or rabbit everyday. A few tomatoes and cucumbers that you were able to syphon from plants near by, and TaDa! Your own personal garden.

Besides this garden, you don’t usually stray too far from the cabin. For one, even though the monster that haunts these woods lives with you, you’re too scared to find out what else could be found lurking in these woods. And two, anytime you accidentally travel too far from it, weather it be just to walk around or to try and find more seeds to grow, a huffing wolf named Jungkook will come and coax you back to the cabin. There’s been times he’s legit dragged you by your shirt to get home, but that’s just because you were so close to finding new seeds and you didn’t want to leave yet.

You know it’s all out of protection—and maybe still out of fear that you may leave him—but he likes having you close by enough to smell you. His wolf nose being able to track anything from a mile away, so that’s how far around the cabin you’re allowed to go before he loses scent of you. Stopping your wondering just before your scent crosses over that mile mark.

Today, after you put the veggies inside the fridge, you take one of the books that Jungkook “found” for you and go walking into the woods to find a place for you to sit. Just before you cross the tree line, you see on the opposite side of the clearing you’re in that Jungkook is walking into the woods too. Probably to go on a hunt or scoot the area even.

You walk for about a minute into the woods before you find a rock and a tree you can sit, and lean against. Opening up your book, you frown when see the small pool of blood on the title page. You try to ignore how it most likely got there, and keep flipping pages until you find the first page.

It’s just when you get to chapter two, that you hear a twig snap close by. You grin at the knowledge that it’s most likely Jungkook, and call out, “Come to read with me, stupid wolf?”

“No, but I would definitely like to do more then just read with you.”

You gasp, jumping up from your spot and dropping your book on the ground in the process when you hear a human voice that’s most definitely not Jungkook’s. It’s a man with long brown hair, a beard thats unkept, and one of his eyes looks screwed shut from loss of sight.

Your body starts shaking immediately. Since you’ve got here, you haven’t seen a single human. You always thought no humans were stupid enough to wonder into these woods—unlike you, but you were lucky enough to be the monsters mate and not die. You know not a single person is going to be that lucky if they come across a hungry Jungkook. Or just him in general!

“I-I, what are you doing here?”

The man raises a fluffy eyebrow at you, and you continue to stare at him wide eyed. “I just thought I would wonder these woods that so many claims is haunted. I just didn’t think I would find myself such a sexy specimen like yourself in here too.”

You swallow thickly at his sultry words, backing up from him as he starts to move forward. “Tell me, girly. Why are you out here all by yourself?”

“I-I’m with my boyfriend.” Your referring to Jungkook, but if this man some how got past him there’s no way he can save you if this man tries something. You watched Jungkook go the opposite way of you, so you have no idea how long it would take for him to rescue you even if you scream.

The man looks both ways, stopping in his tracks with you. “Don’t see no boyfriend.” The closed lip smile on the man’s face disappears. “But I am hungry.”

You open your eyes wide, and clutch onto the skirt of your dress. You look all around the area your in, thinking up the best route to get away from this man. “I-I don’t have any food. So you should p-probably go looking somewhere else.”

The man laughs, showing his blackened teeth as he does, and then he looks at you with a pair of disgusting eyes that only mean one thing. “Oh, darling… that’s not what I’m hungry for.”

Right when his words register to you, you run as fast as you can in the direction of the cabin. Your not far from it, and you can only hope that maybe Jungkook stopped his travels early and came home. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you’re suddenly aware of what this chase of cat and mouse reminds you of. The difference between that day with Jungkook and you and right now is that you thought Jungnkook was going to eat you. While the disgusting and vile man behind you doesn’t want to actually eat you, but taint and ruin your body. Ruin your soul, even.

You push forward as you spot the clearing up ahead. Dodging tree branch’s and jumping over rocks. Just when you’re about to step foot into the clearing of the cabin, a heavy body pins you to the ground. You cry out as the man that was chasing yous heavy weight falls on top of you. Screaming once again when you feel a hard erection press against your ass through his jeans.

He’s not as big as Jungkook—not that that was your main concern—but just knowing it’s there and not Jungkook’s has you starting to cry already.

“Oh, shut the fuck up you whore!” The man above you yells. Maneuvering himself so he can pin your arms against your back with his knee, and you hear the start of him unbuckling his pants and belt.

You think your done for. That you’re about to be ruined beyond repair from the man above you, and never want to face Jungkook again. Even though Jungkook did the same to you once all those months ago, there was still pleasure for you being brought to the table. It wasn’t selfish, but a need for him to mate you. This man, on the other hand, won’t give a shit if you like it and wants to use you because your just there. Not because he loves you, or wants to hold you in his arms forever. Keeping you safe and making sure you’re never in pain.

This man wants to bring you pain, and you shut your eyes and cry out one last time before you think you’re about to be ruined forever. “Jungkook, help me!”

It happens so fast after that… but not what your thinking.

One second the man is pushing up your dress to reveal yourself to him, and the next he’s being ripped off of you. It doesn’t register to you that you’re no longer being pinned to the ground until you start to hear screaming, growling, and the sound of bones breaking. Breathing heavily against the ground, you stay completely still until the screams stop out of no where and the smell of blood is in the air.

You blink back your tears that are still falling, and on shaking arms you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Before you could be brave enough to stand up entirely, a hand is being pressed into your back. You jump away from the hand and turn around to see a bloodied face Jungkook crouching in front of you.

Although your eyes are being blurred with tears, you can see his extremely upset face as he takes in your form. You don’t waste any time. You leap into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He makes a ‘Uph’ sound and stubbles back, but he catches you nonetheless. He’s always there to catch you.

Jungkook buries his face into your neck to smell you, while your face is against his neck to cry into. He growls against your neck when his nose processes the now dead’s man smell on you. You let him scent mark you, and the whole times he’s keeping you strapped to him. Not letting go of you for a single second.

By the time he’s down scenting you, and your crying has simmered down a little, you pull your face out of his neck to face him. The same deep frown and saddened eyes look at you, and you know it’s because of what almost transpired a few moments ago.

He swallows, pushing out a, “Hurt…?” You open your mouth to say no, because even though it scared you the man didn’t hurt you exactly. But then Jungkook is pushing out more words, “Try. To… Hurt. You?”

Your lip wobbles, and you can’t speak. Feeling your chest crumble from knowing the answer to his question is not positive, and instead of you speaking you nod your head since it’s too hard to speak right now.

Jungkook’s upset frown turns into an expression you haven’t seen yet on him. You know what he looks when he’s happy (flick up of the corners of his mouth), and when he’s sad (deep frown and drooping eyes), but this is different… this Jungkook is angry.

His sharp wolf teeth extend from his gums, and the corners of his eyes wrinkle and twitch as he thinks about what that man would have done to you. If it wasn’t for Jungkook being back on his way to the cabin at that second, it would have been too late. The man’s smell didn’t even register to him when Jungkook did an air check to smell where you were. All he smelt was something dirty, and he registered that as the part of the woods you were in smelling weird.

Never again. Never again will he ignore weird smells around you, or think your alright even if something seems off. He’ll drop everything for you. Even if he really wants to go claw some more at the dead man’s body right now, he picks you up as you’re now, wrapped around his body, and starts carrying you in the direction of the cabin.

You keep your face against Jungkook’s shoulder the entire time. Not letting go even after he puts you on the bed. You don’t remember how you got here, or even him closing the door behind you, but once your in bed and safe you still don’t let him go of him. And Jungkook is okay with that.

He puts you against the wall, making sure your caged in between his body and the wall so nothing can harm you. Even if someone were to look inside the cabin right now, all they would see is Jungkook’s naked back and ass.

Trying to be a good mate, he hums what sounds like a lullaby as he runs his sharps nails up and down your clothed back. When you finally begin to relax, calmly pulling your arms off of him so they can be sandwiched in between the two of you, you whisper a quiet, “Thank you.”

Jungkook stops humming, and stops rubbing your back. Looking down at your shameful looking face with wide eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

“Why, thank you?” He nods his head pointedly. “For saving me.”

Jungkook won’t take that. He won’t take a thank you for this. Your his mate, and he wasn’t there to protect you. He doesn’t deserve your thank yous or even you at this point. Pulling your face out of his chest with his two hands, he stares into your eyes as he tries to communicate how he feels. “No. No, thank yous. Don’t… Deserve… Thank yous. Or… You.”

Now it’s your turn to look at him wide eyed. You grab onto his hands on your face and shake your head. “What are you talking about? Yes, you do. You deserve me because I’m your mate.”

Jungkook’s shakes his head. “Not enough.”

Your lips part, and you see the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes as his hands fall off your face. This is the first time he said something without breaking the words apart, and out of all things it was him saying he’s not enough for you. Well now, your not going to take that.

You grab onto his face, making him face you and feel a little pleased with yourself when you see a surprised look on his face. You pull his face forward and smash your lips against his. He’s surprised, at first, but then he’s groaning into your mouth and wrapping his arms around your middle again. You moan when you feel his length begin to grow against your thigh, moving it slightly to allow him some friction. He growls when you do that, and you detach your lips from his as you look at him determined to make him understand just how you feel about what he just said.

“You do deserve me, Jungkook. You deserve me because I’m your mate, and you’re mine. And I-… I love you so stop being stupid and just claim what’s yours already!”

Jungkook blinks, registers your words a couple times in his head, and repeats, “Mate?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Yes!”

“Love. Me?”

You swallow, taking a moment of hesitation but then replying again, “Yes.”

Then that’s all Jungkook needs to be convinced. He smashes his lips against yours the same way you did, and you’re moaning up a storm by the time he rolls you underneath him. You take your clothing off as fast as your arms can do it, and then Jungkook is thrusting into you the second your pussy is presented to him.

Both of you making noises of pleasure as he enters you, stretching and rubbing at your walls just the way you like it as he roughly pounds against your core. As always, Jungkook fucks you rough and hard, but right now you need it. You need it just as much as him, and when you both cum at the same time, you’re scratching at his back to go another round… and another… and another.

As always, you lose count of how many rounds you both did, but this time you’re both out of breathe by the time you both decide to stop. His cum is leaking from you because you’re so filled to the brim with his seed, and you revel in it. Feeling his cum drip on your leg, and feeling his soft lips peeper kiss your face as he sandwiches your body against his and the wall again.

You love it all! But most importantly, you love your mate.

And he loves you more than you could ever comprehend.

-

-

-

The End

#jungkook #jk #jk bts #jungkook bts #bts #yandere #yandere jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #werewolf!jungkook x reader #werewolf!jungkook x human!reader #yandere werewolf jungkook #human!reader #jk smut #cabin in the woods #yandere jungkook x reader #bts yandere #horror!au #horror jungkook #happy halloween

[abalidoth]

what is cosmere? (is that what its called?)

The Cosmere is a big, interconnected fantasy universe that is the setting of most of the works by the author Brandon Sanderson. The cool thing about his books is that each series is contained to its own world, and you can read any of them in isolation without realizing you're missing anything, but if you read them all you get a sense of the larger plot happening behind the scenes as those worlds start to collide and things cross over.

Brandon's magic systems tend to be very rule-based and well-defined, with a lot of twists being characters finding interesting ways to use those rules of magic. This lends itself well to the crossovers, because all the magic systems (as different as they are) share the same underpinning principles.

Here's some quick rundowns of different series and standalones in the Cosmere:

The Stormlight Archive

Planned ten-book series, currently four books are out.

A massive sprawling epic about the world Roshar, that's hit by a hurricane about every four days, and all the life has adapted to survive that environment. Knights Radiant -- superpowered individuals with a close bond to a spirit -- are starting to re-emerge in the world after being absent for centuries.

Because there are so many characters, this is where a lot of the character fandom tends to focus their efforts. I wouldn't recommend starting with it, though -- the first book alone is a thousand pages. I'd wait until you have a sense of Brandon's writing. But it's very good.

Mistborn

One trilogy (completed), one tetralogy set a couple hundred years later (completed), two trilogies some time in the future.

One cool thing about this series is that it follows one world (Scadrial) from a vaguely Renaissance tech level in the first trilogy, to 1920s in the second series, and eventually 1980s in the third and space-age magic in the fourth.

The magic itself is very intricate and all woven around metals -- there are people called Metalborn who can ingest metals and burn them in their stomachs to get different effects, including super-senses, strength, and Magneto-ish metallokinesis. That last bit makes the gunfights in the second series particularly fun.

The first book is a heist novel about robbing a thousand-year-old God-Emperor blind. It's a pretty good place to start, although it's a pretty hefty novel to start with.

The Emperor's Soul

I'm putting this one in a different category from the rest of the one-offs for a very good reason -- it's, in my opinion, the single best place to start reading the Cosmere.

It's a novella (just over a hundred pages) about a forger named Shai who uses magic to rewrite the histories of objects. She is captured by the government of an empire to reforge the soul of their Emperor, who has been left braindead after an assassination attempt, in the 100 days before the mourning period is over.

It's a fantastic meditation on art, a cool introduction to the way Brandon writes both characters and magic systems, and Shai herself is one of my favorite Cosmere characters. If any of this sounds at all interesting to you, I recommend you check it out.

One-offs

Brandon has also written a bunch of one-off novels in the Cosmere.

Elantris: His first book, and the one that my tattoo is from. About a prince who is affected by a dark transformation and thrown into a city of fellow undead, and the princess betrothed to him who arrives just in time to be told he died. Good, but suffers from some first book issues, pacing problems, and weird plot cul-de-sacs. Set in the same world as The Emperor's Soul, although there's basically no crossover.

Warbreaker: About a world where souls (Breaths) are bought and sold, and used to animate objects to do work, ruled by The Returned, living gods who require a steady dose of Breaths to live. One of my favorites, and an essential if you'd like to get into the crossover-y parts of the cosmere, as it introduces a bunch of elements that show up later (Especially in Stormlight)

Tress of the Emerald Sea: The first of his wildly successful Kickstarter project books, it's a fairy tale style story about a girl who braves a sea of bubbling, deadly spores to rescue the man she loves. It's lovely, especially if you're into a more Diana Wynne Jones kind of vibe to your fantasy. Probably a pretty good place to start!

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter: The third Kickstarter book. About a shrine priestess who stacks rocks to draw spirits, and a man who paints the nightmares that roam the streets of his city to banish them -- they become trapped in each other's places and must learn about each other's worlds to survive. This is currently my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE cosmere novel, oh my GOD it's so good. I'm not sure it's a great place to start, as a lot of the conclusion might feel a bit rushed if you don't have a good feel for the vibe of how Brandon writes magic, but honestly it might stand alone just fine even then.

The Sunlit Man: Fourth Kickstarter book. I haven't read this one yet.

Novellas: There are a bunch of novellas and short stories, some set on worlds we haven't otherwise seen, some set on Roshar or Scadrial.

If any of this sounds good to you, I recommend you give his writing a shot. He's one of my all time favorite writers (the tattoo should prove that, lol) and the Cosmere fandom is by and large wonderful and welcoming. I've made many lifelong friendships there.

#cosmere #brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #mistborn #tesseranswers

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 2

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, light flirting, touching hands, hugs, cold/illness, light angst, a teensy bit of pining, teacher!reader (no specific details given in fic, it’s just your job from Before) a/n: This is Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice. I’ve done my best with the overall TLOU (show) timeline, but I can’t find a timeline that has the specific dates/months that Joel and Ellie passed through Jackson and returned. For the purposes of this fic they pass through in late November, 2023, and come back in April, 2024 (ish). Enjoy. :) word count: 7.4k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | chapter 1 || chapter 3

Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice

Jackson, Spring 2024

You’ve been in Jackson almost four months when Joel and Ellie return. You have a couple of friends, but it hasn’t really been long enough to establish yourself in the community. You’re a bit of a loner. You mostly talk to Tommy, Maria, and some of the others who work the same jobs you do. Tommy vouched for you, which seems to have given you a real in with some of the people here, but you have to put in the work.

You’re still floating, still trying to settle, and not at all ready to return to teaching. You know Tommy told Maria about what you did Before but neither of them have bugged you about it. The idea of walking into a classroom fills you with both longing and dread and for now you’re still avoiding it completely. You and Tommy have both been surprised at how much you like working outdoors – you were truly an indoors-only person Before. The first time he caught you standing in a pile of horse manure three months ago he doubled over laughing and almost fell in it himself. You’re still getting used to being around someone who knows you so well.

Maria is slowly warming up to you, but she’s been a little distant since she realized stories about what Joel (and Tommy, not that she seems to mind that part) has been up to in the last 20 years don’t seem to phase you. You aren’t good enough friends yet to tell her the things you’ve done, the things you regret and the things you don’t. It’s not like you’ve been an angel yourself. You’re not surprised to learn that Joel did whatever it took to protect people, to survive and save his last remaining family member. You can imagine who he became when he thought you were dead along with Sarah. It’s the same thing that happened to you, after all. The same transformation.

After that first meeting at the gates (when you barely said anything at all to each other before Tommy swept all three of you away, ignoring Ellie’s obvious curiosity and her elbow to Joel’s side as you stared at each other in the road, unmoving) you don’t get a chance to really talk with Joel for a couple of days. You get it – you know Joel, the Dad. He’s settling Ellie in and your heart clenches because you can remember what he was like with Sarah. You haven’t thought about Sarah this much in years. 

(That’s a lie – you think about her every single day. But not like this, with two people nearby who knew her, too. It’s different somehow and it’s making you feel things you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. It’s probably best for you to get over that feeling, that hurt, that initial reaction at a distance. You don’t want it to touch Ellie. She doesn’t know you.)

So Joel and Ellie move back into their house, which happens to be next door to yours because Tommy Miller will stop meddling when he’s dead. You don’t talk to Ellie that first day, but you and Joel make eye contact as he stands on his front porch and you stand in the road where Tommy just left you. His eyes are soft and dark and so familiar (and longed for) that it hurts. He takes a hesitant step towards you and speaks his first real words to you in 20 years. The sound of his voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“Can we– I can’t today, I’m sorry, I have to– Ellie–“

“I know, Joel,” you interrupt. “She needs to settle in, and she doesn’t know who I am. Take care of that first.” When you say his name you see it hit him and pin him in place. It was the same for you back at the gate. You drift a little closer to their porch steps.

“I’ve had a little bit longer to sit with the idea that– that you’re still alive. I’ve been here a few months. I’m not going anywhere, ok? We can talk later. Maybe in a couple of days?”

As you talk he’s searching your face and you feel yourself doing the same. Looking for the person you knew Before. At your offer, he looks relieved. 

“Yeah, darlin’. In a couple of days.” 

You can’t hide your reaction to the endearment or the feeling that washes over you, once-familiar and almost frightening as it echoes from Before. You think he might have surprised himself with it, too. When’s the last time he called anyone that? Maybe the last time you heard it. For a moment you just stare at each other.

It takes Ellie poking her head out the door to jumpstart you both back into action.

Joel heads inside and you head home, but you can hear her start to grill him about you as they close the door. (Who the hell is that?) It makes you smile.

…

You spend that night staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, completely unable to sleep. Joel is here, alive, probably 50 feet away from you and just knowing that keeps you awake. The following day you move from your house to work and back again in a daze, avoiding the dining hall, trying not to stare at their house or worry that Joel is avoiding you when you don’t see them. By the next morning, two mostly sleepless nights since Joel and Ellie walked through the gates of Jackson, you’re exhausted. You get dressed and find yourself standing in your front hallway, talking yourself down from going to lean on Tommy for some information. It’s only been two days, like 36 hours, get a fucking grip.

It’s convenient, then, that you’re so close to the door when someone unexpectedly knocks on it. As you open it, your heart leaps into your throat. 

Joel Miller is on your porch. He looks flustered and worried. You can tell he’s been running his hands through his hair – it’s messy and going every which way, just like it used to whenever he was anxious about something. The only difference now is the brown is shot through with gray. 

“Joel? Is everything alright?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you feel a bit of deja vu, but you have no time to analyze the feeling before he steps towards you and you lose track of the thought at his proximity. You step back to let him in.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I know we need to talk, but Ellie’s come down with something when we got back. I’ve been taking care of her. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you.”

He’s twisting his hands together in front of him as he speaks and you notice one is shaking. You almost reach out to rest your hands on top of his to soothe him, but you stop yourself. You’re not ready to touch him like that and you doubt he’s ready to be touched. You clench your hands into fists and hide them behind your back instead. 

“Oh no, is she alright? Do you need anything?” 

You realize as you offer that you don’t know what help you, an outsider, could provide — everything is different than it was Before, when you would have been in the same house helping with the sick child from the start. You haven’t even really been around kids in years. It’s a weird feeling and you’re not sure what to do with it.

Joel shakes his head. “No, we’re fine, Tommy brought some things by yesterday and this morning, she’s already on the upswing.” He crosses his arms and sighs, looking down at the ground between you unhappily. “But I need to go talk to Maria and some others, and Tommy needs to be there with me, and, well. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sitting with her for a bit?” 

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, a hesitant look on his face. “Or, um, sitting in the house, just in case she needs something. She’s in bed, you could stay on the couch. I know you don’t know each other yet but I wouldn’t ask anyone else here to do this.” 

It doesn’t escape you that he said yet, that he implied you will get to know Ellie. It wakes something in you, something painful and raw and long-dormant, something you haven’t felt in 20 years. You have the sudden urge to run and hide and you twist your fingers behind your back, willing your feet to stay right where they are. It’s different somehow from the wave of emotion you felt a few months ago, sitting on the ground, tangled in your sleeping bag, shocked at the news that this man was still alive. It’s a feeling you’ve been running from since you realized Sarah must be dead. 

But you’ve basically never said no to this man, not about anything important. You aren’t going to start now.

“Of course, Joel. I’ll follow you over.” That feeling of deja vu is back, and you wonder if he isn’t feeling it too, as he tilts his head at you with a contemplative look on his face. He nods and thanks you and turns to go.

You suddenly realize you’ve been reading his expressions and mannerisms this whole time and you don’t seem to have lost your fluency with it. You wonder if he can still read you just as well, and if he can, what he’s seeing. You’re not sure, yourself. You can’t imagine what you’re giving away.

You shut the door behind him and take a moment, forehead resetting against the wood, to just breathe.

…

When you arrive at the house next door, Joel calls for you to come in from somewhere upstairs and you take a moment to look around. They haven’t even been there two days and they already have some belongings visible in the living room. The kitchen is in a bit of disarray, the way it normally gets when a kid is sick. That feeling that almost sent you running hits again, like an echo. You close your eyes against the memories of Sarah and you miss Joel reappearing at the top of the stairs until he calls your name softly. 

He’s stopped halfway down the stairs and beckons for you to follow him back up. You do and he leads you down the hall to what is clearly Ellie’s room – he goes straight in and sits beside her on the bed as you linger in the doorway.

“Ellie, this is—“ 

“I know who she is, Joel, you already told me,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and then coughing a bit. The look of disdain she gives him is so classic teenager it takes your breath away. It’s so easy to recall Sarah doing the same thing. You can picture the same look on her face. 

You breathe slowly through it and hope your reaction doesn’t show. You smile, weakly. Ellie is stone faced in response, and she glances at Joel, looking to him to take the lead. He’s looking at you. You gather yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m sorry you’re feeling shitty.” She looks a little amused at your description but she doesn’t laugh. She’s clearly wary of you, which is fair. “I’m just going to be downstairs on the couch, call if you need anything, ok?”

With that you turn and head back downstairs, and you can see the relief in her expression as you do. You’re also relieved. She’s not comfortable around strangers, and for you the role of babysitter is sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders like an old coat that you outgrew and haven’t touched in years. You imagine it’s worse for her when she’s not feeling great. 

You hear their low voices for a few minutes and then Joel reappears on the stairs, brow furrowed.

“Are you sure she’s ok with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” You have to ask.

He looks at you and his brow relaxes, softening a bit. “It’s fine. She’s done nothing but sleep and grill me about you for the last two days, coughing the whole time. She’s just not so great with strangers. I think her curiosity’ll take over, she always wants to know everything. Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep.” You nod as he moves past you towards the door. To your surprise, he reaches out to touch your arm, so softly and briefly you wonder if he even makes contact or if you’re imagining it. You shiver, resisting the urge to hug your arms across your chest. You know it would look like a rejection. “It should only be a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Joel.” Through the open front door you see Tommy waiting for him outside, and he nods and winks at you before he and Joel make their way towards the center of town. You roll your eyes in response.

…

You spend the first fifteen minutes after they leave sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. Something about this feels so much like Before it’s making you anxious, but you’re exhausted and you’ve spent 20 years burying or shying away from those memories. You can’t immediately recall why. When it gets to be too much you stand and head into the kitchen, looking for something to do with your hands. Thankfully there’s a pile of dishes waiting for you.

You’re almost done with the dishes, successfully avoiding thinking too hard about Before – or now, or anything at all – when you hear something and turn off the water to listen more closely. You hear your name called softly from upstairs and immediately dry your hands to go see what Ellie needs. 

When you arrive in her doorway she’s sitting up and fidgeting. 

“Hey, what do you need?” You put what is hopefully a neutral and helpful look on your face. You haven’t dealt with a teenager in decades but you remember well how they see through pretense. Sarah never turned down a chance to call any of you on your bullshit. 

She eyes you for a moment, glancing back at her lap where she’s gripping the blanket tightly, before saying, “Can I– Can I ask you some questions? About Before.”

Your eyes widen a little, you can’t help it, but you don’t want to shut her down. Before she can take your expression, whatever it is, as a rejection you say yes and move a little further into the room. She tenses.

“Sorry, I’ll stay over here. Can I get a chair?” She regards you silently for a moment, and then points to the corner to your right where you haven’t looked yet. There’s a chair with a jacket slung over the back. You nod and take a seat. 

“Ask away.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking. “So you were going to get married, Before. Right?”

You nod. “Right. Joel proposed in 2002, in December. He meant to do it on New Year’s Eve but he couldn’t wait and proposed early.” Ellie snorts, and then coughs a little bit. You keep yourself from moving towards her to hand her the glass of water on her nightstand. She doesn’t know you. And she’s a teenager, not a little kid. She’s older than Sarah. Don’t think about it.

“That sounds… romantic?” Her tone says that the idea of Joel doing something romantic is so outlandish as to be impossible.

You smile, a little bit sadly. “I know I’m different now, so I imagine he is, too. But he was always a huge romantic. We knew each other for a while before we actually got together, but once we were dating, it was like he couldn’t help it.” You’re suddenly glad you’ve had three months to think about him being alive. This conversation would have felt impossible when you first arrived in Jackson. Now it’s possible, just difficult.

“What, did he like, give you flowers?” The look on her face says she considers this unbelievable and slightly offensive, which reminds you so strongly of 13-year old Sarah you have to take a deep breath. You look away to make it seem like you need to think.

“No, well, he did a few times. But it was other things.”

“Like what?”

“He… well, he took me dancing. For our first date, and then pretty often afterwards.”

“Dancing?” She’s incredulous. “No way, I refuse to believe that old man can dance.” 

You can’t help but grin. “Yeah, dancing. That old man has moves.”

She scoffs and asks what else, clearly moving on from the dancing. For now, you assume.

“Well, we were both bad at remembering dates, but he never let an important date pass without doing something special anyway. He used to do little things for me before I even noticed they needed to be done, especially around the house. He never held back from telling me how he felt. He made it clear how important I was to him, and how much he liked having me in his life, by making space for me in it. I don’t know how much you want to hear about it, but … yeah, the man’s a romantic. No question.” You pause, and smile a little wryly. “Tommy can back me up, and his version’ll probably be way funnier. At our expense.” You feel something inside you start to thaw as you let yourself remember Joel this way.

Ellie looks like she's trying to hide a smile, which you count as a win. Then her expression shifts, and something makes you a little wary with how she sets her shoulders, readying herself to ask another question. 

“D'you want to get back together?” The look on her face says she isn’t sure that’s what she wants. Not at all.

You suddenly feel like you’re on a tightrope. You’re out of breath even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you have to give the right answer here. But you aren’t even sure what it is for yourself, let alone for Ellie. Before you saw Joel at the gates you’d decided you wouldn’t let this second chance pass you by, but what does that actually mean, practically? For the people you are now?

“Ok, that’s a tough question, and no, I’m not blowing you off. I’m just going to be honest, ok?” You look down, lacing your hands together in your lap. 

“Joel and I were so in love, like head over heels for each other, 20 years ago. We both thought the other person died, and our kid did die. I’m… in shock right now. I think he is, too. I found out he was alive a few months ago, he found out I’m alive two days ago. Nothing feels straightforward or clear." You squeeze your hands together and clear your throat.

“I think we knew each other well enough to know what our lives might have been like in between, what we might have done. Or had to do. Maybe we imagined it sometimes. Um.” You pause to take a deep breath and glance up. Ellie is looking down at her hands. You can’t tell how this is going over with her but you keep going anyway.

“To answer your question… I never stopped loving him. He’s the love of my life. But I can’t say for sure what we’ll do until we talk, which we will at some point. It’s– it’s been too long to assume anything. To think everything is the same.” Your hands are shaking. You think you might be rambling, so you pause to get back on track.

“But that’s not the most important thing right now. You need to get better and you both need to settle in, you know? That’s his focus. As it should be. And I know he’ll talk to you about it. Whatever happens. I’m sorry I don’t have a– a clear answer.”

Your heart is beating fast as you finish. You can feel it in your throat.

Ellie is frowning as she meets your eyes again. She looks lost, her voice almost a whisper as she says, “I don’t… he has Tommy. And now you.” This admission clearly costs her, and she crosses her arms and looks away from you.

Suddenly you think you understand the conversation you’ve been having. You’re surprised and a little warmed by the fact that she was willing to say that to you at all. 

“Ellie, I might not know everything about what Joel’s life has been like for the last 20 years – not yet, anyway – but I do know what that man looks like when he’s being a parent.” You think you see her suck in a breath at your words. You swallow and continue, “it looks the same now as it did then. And yeah, you don’t know me, but I knew him, and going by my own experience? That part of him is still in there. I can see it. As far as that man is concerned, you’re his kid. No question about it. And that’s not something we take back. It just is, ok? It’s forever and it’s unconditional. I promise you, it never goes away. Not for us.”

…

After your conversation with Ellie, which you’re hoping went well but you’re honestly not sure, you’re completely wrung out and over your own feelings. You spend about 45 minutes puttering around the kitchen and living room to avoid feeling any more of them before you hear footsteps on the porch.

Joel opens the door, looking around and spotting you quickly. He looks worried, but his expression clears a little when he finds you sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine. She didn’t have another coughing fit, we chatted for a little bit and then she fell back asleep.” His eyebrows raise when you say you talked to Ellie. As he takes the seat across from you his boot nudges yours under the table and then moves away. You try to ignore the effect that tiny touch has on you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It went well, I think? You’ll probably hear about it either way.” You finish with a little bit of a rueful smile, hoping she’s warming up to you and not the opposite.

Joel smiles a bit in response. “Thank you again, darlin’. I couldn’t put them off anymore and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be here with her.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. 

“To be honest with you, I’m still in shock that you’re here for me to ask. I… well. It feels a little bit too good to be true.” He looks uncertain as he says it. You nod. You feel the same way.

“I know. I… it’s kind of surreal? I want…” you hesitate, but he’s watching you like nothing could be more important than how you finish that sentence. You decide to just let it all out. It’s worked for you so far today. 

“I know it’s been 20 years, Joel, but part of me has felt like everything is the same from the moment I saw you, which is confusing as hell, because the other part of me knows it can’t be and it isn’t. You don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t know what you’ve done. We’re not the same people. Even if it feels like it. Even if looking at you and hearing your voice feels—“ You clear your throat and look away. 

“Even if it feels the same. Even if I want… Even if…” you trail off, not sure if you’re ready to finish that sentence, after all. You realize you’re gripping your hands together so tight it hurts, and you slowly relax them and flatten them on the table in front of you. You take a breath before continuing, gaze trained on your hands. 

“It’s like we hit pause 20 years ago and neither of us knew for sure what happened so there was no closure, no clear explanation. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how to bridge that time with now. How to remember that version of me, the one you knew, and be this me. How to… Joel, so much happened, and I imagined so many versions of you. What our lives would have been like.” You take a deep breath. “I guess that’s what we need to talk about.”

You look over, gaze low to avoid his eyes, and see Joel is clenching his fists a bit, like he’s holding back. You’d like to think it’s from reaching towards you but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t assume you’re reading him as well as you think you are. Maybe you need to spend more time reminding yourself of the things you don’t know about this man. 

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, though, he does reach out. You watch as his fists relax and you track the movement of his hand as it lifts from the table and slowly extends towards yours. He’s trembling, you notice, and then you realize you are too. You can’t tear your eyes away as his fingertips lightly touch the back of your left hand where it rests on the table. You feel all of the hair on your arms stand up in response. 

“Darlin’, I…” he pauses, and you both hold your breath as your eyes meet. 

Time slows to a crawl. He puts more gentle pressure into your connection, sliding his hand over the back of yours, touching you with intent for the first time in two decades. His thumb moves lightly back and forth over your wrist, a soothing motion. All of your focus narrows to that point of connection, even as his gaze pins you in place. You can’t look away. 

Holy hell. His hand fully covers yours and squeezes. After the two barely-there touches you’ve shared today it feels almost obscene. His hand on yours in the present calls up memories of his hands on you Before and you're dizzy, spinning through your memories. You didn’t know you could still feel this way. Not even for Joel. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your gaze drops to his lips. You’re desperate to hear it, whatever it is, when suddenly the moment pops like a soap bubble as the more annoying Miller sticks his head in the front door.

“Joel! I brought food. Oh! Hey there, sunshine.” He greets you, and then grins at you. “Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, which is so absurd it kickstarts you back into motion. You need to get out of here. 

“No!” You say a bit too loudly as you leap to your feet, breaking your connection with Joel. You feel its absence immediately. Your hand is tingling. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude and I want Ellie to be comfortable so she can get better. Joel, I– do you want–“

He interrupts you and catches your eye to hold you in place, but he doesn’t move his hands from the table. “Yes, I do.” You’re glad he does. You aren’t actually sure what you were going to ask, but at least you’re in agreement about it, whatever it is. “We still need to talk. I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You nod, a bit wildly. “I’ll be at the stables all day but I should be home around four.” He smiles at you, starting to stand, and you make a beeline for the door, elbowing Tommy a bit as you pass him. He makes a big show of staggering away, moaning and overselling it, but he deserves it anyway.

As you turn onto the road, you can’t help but glance back at the house you’ve just left. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks – Joel is leaning against his own open door frame, arms crossed, looking pensive as he watches you walk home. 

Suddenly it hits you, your tired mind finally recalling the reason for all of the deja vu, and your spine stiffens as you inhale quickly in surprise. You almost call out to ask Joel if he remembers. He has to, right? It’s basically what got you together Before and the similarities are almost too much for you to believe. Your eyes move down and back up, looking around the porch, taking him in. All it took to break the tension the first time around and get you to actually start something together was a sick kid.

As you meet his eyes again you’re sure that you’re both remembering it. He can see your moment of realization, and after that moment in the kitchen, you know he can still read you. The expression on his face is complex but you see affection and regret, weighed down by all the memories you share. He tilts his head and smiles at you, a bit ruefully. You smile in response, hugging your arms around yourself. 

All of your nerves and your worries about your upcoming conversation fall away – you still have enough in common with this man that you can have this conversation, without words, 20 feet apart. 20 years apart.

A moment ago you felt like the last few hours had scraped to the bottom of your emotional reserves and left you empty. But the smile you and Joel share sparks something inside you and you’re filled with a sweet, tentative anticipation that you barely know what to do with. It’s been years since you felt anything like it. 

Tomorrow.

…

Austin, Spring 2001

You were setting your coffee down on your desk, mentally starting your to-do list, when you were surprised by a knock at your front door. 

A peek through your curtains revealed your neighbor, Joel Miller, pacing agitatedly on your front porch. 

Ever since you met on the day you moved in almost six months ago Joel had been nothing but welcoming. And from the moment you met his eyes that day you knew you were in trouble. 

In some ways, you were typical, friendly neighbors. You saw the Millers almost every day, if only to wave at each other from your driveways on busy mornings. You’d been over to babysit Sarah for a short afternoon or evening a few times. They even had you over for a welcome-to-town dinner early on and you’d traded dinner at each other’s homes about once a month after that. 

But what was going to get you in trouble was Joel the Handyman. He did end up fixing some of your bookshelves after the movers broke them – stop apologizing, darlin’, I told you I’m happy to help – which led to him fixing more and more things around your house. Every time he came over to fix something he would spot another creaky cabinet door or leaky faucet or crooked light fixture and promise to come back another day to take care of it. You’d swear he came over to fix something every week. At this point you were surprised there was anything left to fix. 

You always sat nearby while he worked and the two of you talked about anything and everything – whatever funny thing your students had done that week, how Sarah was doing (with school and with soccer and with everything else), Joel’s frustrations at work, Tommy’s latest escapades. Sometimes it felt like Joel knew more about you and your day-to-day life than anyone, since your friendships at work were still new and you’d moved far away from everyone who knew you at home when you took this job. You always ended up talking for much longer than it took Joel to finish whatever task he’d had in mind, usually sitting together on your back porch or at your kitchen table until he absolutely had to go. 

(His visits also gave you the opportunity to watch him work – to watch him flex his shoulders and arms and to admire the muscles in his back and thighs, (mostly) unnoticed. You’d feel bad about it if you hadn’t caught him with his gaze locked on your legs in your house shorts more than once. And then there was the time he’d come over to fix the ceiling fan – he’d climbed a ladder in your living room while you stood nearby to hand him his tools. His chest had been only a foot or so away from your face and when he’d raised his arms his t-shirt had lifted far, far above his jeans. You’d lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the dark trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his exposed briefs. You’d vaguely thanked whatever deity might be out there that he had forgotten to wear a belt that day. As he stood on his toes and shifted his hips his jeans had slipped a little lower, showing you just a hint of an outline of something you had to stop yourself from picturing. You’d gone quiet, distracted and far away until he coughed lightly and your eyes shot back up to his face. 

“Still with me, darlin?” He’d smirked at you, knowingly, but had gotten right back to work after, continuing the conversation like nothing had happened.)

It felt like you were always catching each other trading looks. The flirtation you’d started that day next to the moving truck hadn’t turned into anything more, but it also hadn’t faded into anything less.

Pacing on your porch that morning, Joel looked as handsome as always, but he was clearly distressed. His normally only somewhat unruly curly hair stood on end as if he’d been tugging at it.

“Morning Joel, something I can do for you?” you asked as you swung the door open and invited him in. Despite how frequently he’d been in your home to fix things it was still a surprise to see him before 8:00 AM on a Tuesday. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, darlin’, but I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you working from home today?” Joel asked as he stepped inside. 

“Yes, is everything alright?” It was clear that Joel was trying to be polite but something was making him more anxious than you’d ever seen him. He was alternately twisting his hands together or running his hands through his hair as he shifted his weight. 

“It’s Sarah. She—“

“Oh no, what happened?”

“She’s just sick, so she can’t go to school but Tommy can’t be here today and I have to go to a job site for a couple of hours. I managed to reschedule some meetings but not everything. Could you possibly come work over at mine for a bit, keep an eye on her? She’ll probably sleep the whole time, you know, but I just don’t want her to be alone, she’s not old enough yet–”

“Joel, of course, I’d be happy to,” you cut him off, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Take your time, I’ve just got a day of grading and reading planned. I can be there for her if she needs me.”

The look of sheer relief that broke across Joel’s face surprised you as he leaned forward, grabbing your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Oh thank you so much, darlin’. I swear I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back. Do you need help grabbing anything?” 

As he stepped back Joel raised his left hand and trailed his thumb across your cheek lightly, almost so light you couldn’t feel it, then brushed his fingertips down your neck. You felt your focus narrow to the point where he touched your face before he stepped away, putting more space between you. Your whole body shivered. This is not the time for that. You blinked a few times.

“Oh, um, no I’ve got it. I’ll pack up and be there in a minute.” Get it together. 

…

About 10 minutes later you were raising your hand to knock at the Millers’ front door when Joel flung it open in front of you and invited you in. 

“Sarah’s back asleep upstairs,” he said in a low voice, “but I woke her up when I got back to let her know you’re here. Feel free to set up wherever you’d like. You can check on her in about an hour – I wrote down what meds she’s had and when she can have them again over here on the counter. I’ll call you in a couple of hours. But call me if you need anything at all, ok? And if she gets worse. And you know where everything is, I know–“

“Joel. Don’t worry, we got this.” You smiled and reached out to squeeze his upper arm, trying to reassure him. 

“I know you do, I know, it’s just—“ he looked worriedly up the stairs before he sighed, shoulders dropping a little, and quickly rubbing his hands over his face. He started to turn towards the door. 

“I know, Joel. It’s Sarah. But I got this, ok? I’m here for you.”

Joel paused, midway through his turn towards the door, and looked back at you. He tilted his head as he considered you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“I know, darlin’. You always are.” He said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I’ll —“

“You’ll call me, I know. Now get out of here, Joel Miller.” You pointed playfully at the door. Joel cracked the first weak smile you’d seen on him all morning, nodded his head, and left. 

…

You’d been working your way through your students’ papers for about 45 minutes when there was some movement upstairs. You quickly set everything down on the couch and moved towards the stairs. “Sarah? Are you awake, sweetheart?” You heard a quiet response but couldn’t quite make it out, so you headed up the stairs to check on her.

You found Sarah sitting on her bed, looking a bit woozy and still mostly asleep. “Hi. I have to pee but I’m kinda dizzy.” Her voice was soft and scratchy and she sounded congested.

“Let me help you. I’ll get you some water after, alright? And you can have more medicine and get back to sleep until lunch.” Sarah nodded sleepily and leaned on you as you moved towards the bathroom together. 

“This is kinda embarrassing,” she said softly, and you laughed. 

“More embarrassing than the Great Tampon Panic of 2000?” You nudged her softly with your elbow and she laughed, and then coughed. 

“Don’t make me laugh! No, nothing can beat the way dad lost it that day.”

You smiled, knowing you were probably both remembering Joel’s panicked sprint to your house over the summer when Sarah got her first period and the ensuing chaos. You had been living next door for about a month and you were all more comfortable around each other after that. 

After a successful, if slow, bathroom trip, you got Sarah another dose of her medicine and tucked her back into bed. “I’ll be right downstairs, ok? I’ll check on you again soon.” You ran your hand lightly over her forehead and hair to soothe her, but also to see if she was warm. She didn’t feel hot under your hand. Sarah nodded and was soon asleep once again. 

…

Joel didn’t manage to call until about two hours later. 

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, I wanted to call an hour ago but I got caught up. How’s my girl?”

“She’s alright. We had a short bathroom break and another round of cold meds and she’s asleep again. I updated your note.”

Joel sighed, sounding more tired than you’d ever heard him. “I'm hoping to leave in the next half hour, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“We’ll be here.”

…

Much later, around dusk, you were finishing up a stack of assignments when you heard a key in the front door. You set everything aside and turned to see Joel quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Welcome back.”

“Hey, darlin’, how’s she doing?” he asked, setting his keys on the table by the door and stopping to remove his boots. 

“She’s been asleep since she had some toast around lunch time. I peeked in there about 15 minutes ago but she was still out.”

He sighed, and looked towards the stairs, brow furrowed and clearly worried. “I was hoping she’d sleep it off.”

“She could still be doing that. When I did talk to her earlier she was groggy but still herself – she told me not to make her laugh because it made her cough.” You smiled a little. “And she didn’t have a fever when I checked a little while ago.”

Joel nodded and turned back to look at you. “Even when she feels terrible she’s still a force of nature. I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I know it was a lot, and it took me longer than I hoped, but–“

“Joel, it was fine.” You cut him off. “It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t even that long at all, and I did just what I would have done anyway.” You tilted your head towards your stack of graded papers on the couch. Joel turned fully towards you, hands on his hips, and tilted his head while he considered you. The unreadable face was back.

“You look mighty comfortable over there.”

“Oh sorry, let me clean up—“

“No, darlin’, that’s not what I meant. No need to rush out. It’s a good thing. You look good. Over there, I mean. Um.” He smiled at you, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking a bit sheepish. You knew what you wanted that to mean but you weren’t sure he meant it that way. Did you look good, or look good here, comfortable on his couch, in his home? You felt your face start to warm as you smiled at each other.

“Can I help with anything before I go?” You ducked your head a little and started shoving your papers into your bag. 

“No, I’ve got it. I’d invite you to stay for dinner as thanks, but I don’t think anyone in this household will be much company today. Next week, ok? Come over for dinner, maybe Sunday? Give her some time to get better first.” He took a couple of steps towards you, watching as you packed up your things. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Joel–“

“Come for dinner,” he interrupted you, catching your eye. “Please.”

You stood and found yourself only a foot or so away from him, which didn’t help you calm your reaction to him. “Ok, ok, you know I’d love to.” You smiled and Joel smiled in response. “I don’t need convincing.”

Looking satisfied, Joel turned and led the way to the door. You grabbed your bag and followed, noticing he was standing a little taller than he had been that morning.

You started to move past him towards the door, but before you could, Joel suddenly reached out and pulled you into a hug. You found yourself with your arms circling his waist as he placed one hand securely at your lower back and used the other to gently cup the back of your head. You pressed your face to his shoulder. So quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “Thank you again, darlin’. I was still worried, of course, but I felt so much better knowing it was you here with my girl all day.”

You couldn’t help it – you sank into his arms a little, returning the hug tightly. “It’s never a problem, Joel. You know I love that girl.”

You felt more than heard a little hitch in his breath as he paused before slowly stepping out of the embrace. “Yeah, I reckon I do. We’ll see you Sunday, right? Let’s say 6.”

“I’ll be here.” You smiled, touched his forearm briefly, and headed out the door. 

You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your front door, and glanced back as you dug out your keys to find him leaning against his own door frame, watching you. When he saw you turn he smiled a little and raised a hand to wave, finally ducking inside his own house only when you did the same. It felt like something had shifted. Something more was brewing between the two of you.  

Sunday. 

...

a/n: see you next Sunday for chapter 3! I decided not to split this or the next one half, so the next chapter has parts in Jackson and in Austin. Also, fun fact - this Austin section for chapter 2 was the first part of this fic I wrote, back in April.

Tag list:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos

chapter 3 is posted!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #over again fic #my fic #x reader

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane​

After seeing that chinchilla Desmond ask, it reminded me of my first impression upon encountering the ferox in Ark survival evolved, Genesis part 1. I know it has a cat/fox like face and kind of red panda tail and monkey-ish body but, my first experience with it was in game, as I hadn’t watched the trailer. And I thought it was a mutated chinchilla…

Saying that! A Ferox! Desmond au would be amazing. He’s small and cute, doing cute little hops to beg for treats, and then he’s a 7 foot tall wolf-gorilla thing capable of tearing your head off your body…

I just have a picture of guards angrily breaking into an ancestor’s house (like the Auditore villa at the start of AC2) and finding this cute…thing just sitting on the other side of the door, wagging it’s tail, and then they watch in horror as it suddenly grows, up and up, and up.

And then there’s nothing but screams…

================================

Additions by teecup

For those unfamiliar with what a Ferox look like, here you go:

Desmond would probably spend quite a lot of time trying to get used to his new body, especially his newly acquired four arms so he’d be a bit of a klutz too. And he’d be super surprised when he first transforms into his other form but also ‘hell yeah!’.

Desmond would just be a fluffy sweet bunny? Fox? Cat? No one knows (and Leonardo is trying to understand what he is) but that doesn’t really matter since Desmond is more or less docile and just likes to eat and cuddle. Not being liked by him would make a person a social pariah XD

So we have an idea of how Desmond could screw up AC2 (also, he can totally protect Monteriggioni by going on a rampage on the papacy army, although this might start a rumor of Monteriggioni having a demon as an attack dog) and Desmond could easily thwart Charles Lee’s plan to burn down Ratonhnhaké:ton’s village by going ham on them either while staying with Kaniehtí:io that day or by transforming and ‘taking care’ of the soldiers before Charles Lee could even hurt Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Now, the most common setup would be for Desmond to be Altaïr’s pet but may I suggest an alternative: Desmond as baby Sef’s pet? Sef found him while he and Darim are playing (maybe they were even able to sneak out of Masyaf) and he brought him back because Desmond doesn’t recognize Sef but he looks a lot like Altaïr so he just makes soft purring sounds as he put all his arms in the air in the universal gesture of ‘pick me up’ and Sef does. 

His transformation is kept a secret and Altaïr thinks Desmond might have mutated with the use of a POE. He’s still more or less Sef’s pet even though Desmond likes to follow Altaïr around when Sef isn’t in Masyaf. 

So when Swami tried to assassinate Sef in his sleep, Desmond is curled on top of Sef’s chest and he jumped down, staring at Swami. 

Swami’s eyes widened as Desmond transformed right in front of him and he let out a scream that gets drowned by Desmond’s roar.

Sef immediately wakes up to see Desmond pinning Swami against the floor and Sef knew that something fishy is certainly going on. Even though Swami is babbling that it was his father who ordered for his death, Sef doesn’t believe him.

First of all: His father wouldn’t order for this death. Of all the things Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad might and might not be, his love for his family will never be questioned.

Second of all: Even if Altaïr wanted him dead, he wouldn’t pick someone like Swami to kill him, that’s insulting. (At this point, both Swami and Desmond just stare at Sef because, yeah, he might be nicer and sweeter than his father but the Ibn-La'Ahad arrogance seems to be hereditary).

“Third of all…” Sef looked at Desmond and grinned, “Shall we get some exercise, Desmond?”

Desmond roared his agreement and…

That day, the conspiracy against Altaïr’s family and allies was thwarted by a large monster. Many of Abbas’ supposed allies squealed like pigs and admitted everything while being pinned down by said monster.

Malik drowned in paperwork that day.

#submission #you know what? #i am still tagging this as #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #ferox is fictional but still an animal #fuck i should have made the tag #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #to cover more grounds XD #desmond as a ferox #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #altaïr ibn la'ahad #sef ibn la'ahad #swami

[my-own-walker]

hi again lmao, can you please make an imagine where you have your first time with warren lipka (evan as him and female pronouns please )?? thank u sm

note: with peace and love, i know warren is a pretty darkly written/intense character with like a lot of baggage but in keeping with the theme of the reader's first time I'm gonna write him as a total sweet softie. no hate to people who write him that way, bc i eat it up every time, but yeah.

warnings: sm*t,

+++

The rain fell heavily on my windows, near gale-force winds roaring by outside. I always loved thunderstorms. I found I could only truly relax when the weather was at its most chaotic. Bad weather had always just seemed like a good excuse to do nothing.

And there was no one I enjoyed doing nothing with better than Warren. He and I were friends since childhood. Our birthdays were in the same month of the same year. Our moms met while pregnant. Joined some group of pregnant ladies that were pregnant together and due around the same time. Warren was just four days older than me. We had tons of play dates as kids.

I’ve always loved him. Even from our days in diapers. The way in which I loved him changed over the years, but sandbox love never dies. The underlying love I had for him was something born out of childhood that retained its youthful innocence. The blushing, bashful, feet-kicking, hair-twirling desire that permeates even schoolyard crushes.

Growing together and apart and then together again meant that no matter what, we could depend on one another. We went to the same pre-school, survived the perils of public school together-ish, then proceeded to go to the same college.

His mother was thoroughly convinced we’d get married someday. ‘It’s fate,’ she’d say. I wanted to be his someday. I never broached the topic with him, though. After countless ‘like a sister’ comments throughout high school, I didn’t dare suggest being something more to him. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be his someday. And I wouldn’t dare jeopardise our friendship for the fulfillment of some ancient crush.

But as the rain fell, surrounded in my blankets, laying next to Warren, listening to music, I couldn’t help but realize the feeling was becoming too much to bear.

He was always at my campus apartment. He hated living at home. We were so totally comfortable with each other, he practically lived with me.

He lay there, unmoving, on my bed. Just inches away from me. His eyes were cast at the ceiling, staring off into whatever daydream he fancied. The rain was also his favorite. ‘Karma Police’ by Radiohead began playing over the small speakers. Warren groaned loudly.

‘God, Y/N, enough of this miserable shit! Why do you only listen to like, the world’s saddest music?’ he whined. ‘Give me your iPod.’

‘You’re such a drama queen,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes as I chucked the device in his direction. He caught it clumsily and laughed in triumph when he switched the song.

‘Sweeter Memories’ by Todd Rundgren played.

‘That’s an out-of-the-box pick,’ I smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘You feeling some sappy 70s shit?’ He didn’t reply. I smacked him lightly on his stomach.

‘What?’ he exclaimed, feigning annoyance.

‘You like ignoring me?’ I laughed.

‘It’s only my favorite pastime,’ he snarked.

‘Yeah? Ignore this,’ I challenged, lurching to jab at his sides with my fingers. He jumped and sat up abruptly, turning to get me back. I squealed and scrambled to get out of bed before he could reach me, but it was no avail. He grabbed me around my waist and began to tickle my sides, rendering me utterly helpless. I succumbed to my own laughter and melted into his touch.

We ended up a collapsed heap on my bed, Warren hovering just above me as we both giggled. Sobering, he looked me in the eyes before lowering himself to kiss me. At first a soft, closed-mouth kiss, slowly morphed into something more passionate. Without warning, he pried himself from me, sitting up at the edge of the bed, turned away from me.

‘God, I’m sorry,’ he breathed. ‘That was…’

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I interrupted.

‘No, man, I think I just took advantage of you or something. I’m sorry,’ he gushed, hands flailing defeatedly as he spoke.

‘Warren, it was okay I promise,’ I insisted.

‘I just, like sometimes, I’m just being stupid,’ he stammered. ‘I feel like I’ve just been wanting to do that.’ A hot flush came to my cheeks. Waves of heat on my face indicated just how much I had been needing to hear him say that.

‘Really? Because me too,’ I replied, almost soundlessly. He turned to face me slowly, an unreadable expression painted on his face. I froze and began chewing the nail on my thumb.

For some relevant context, I had really never even been kissed. Warren was a seasoned veteran in the world of relationships and physical touch. I, I guess subconsciously, had been waiting for Warren for years. So, in turn, it rendered me a hopeless romantic and a college-aged virgin. He was the one I wanted, so I never pursued anything with anyone else.

'Are you sure?' Warren spoke, breaking my train of thought. Instead of replying, I sat up on the bed to meet his lips and began kissing him again. He pushed me back down, positioning himself to be on top of me. ‘You okay?’

I didn’t even realize I had tensed up a bit.

‘I’m good I’m just…new to this,’ I breathed, punctuating my sentence with a small laugh.

‘Oh god, I didn’t even, I totally forgot you’ve never…’ he stammered. ‘I can take it slow.’

‘If you can’t walk, then run,’ I replied. ‘I’ve never been one to take things slow.’

His lips reconnected with mine. I reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged at it to indicate that I wanted it off. He adjusted himself to help me slide the fabric over his head. He laughed and shook his head.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ he chuckled.

‘Warren, shut up,’ I scolded.

He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in just my bra and shorts. I felt weirdly exposed. I laid there, not entirely sure what to do with myself, where to put my hands, all of that. Warren took the liberty of taking his pants off himself, probably knowing I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for him.

I felt his hot breath caress my chest as he peppered kisses all over my breasts, just above my bra. Goosebumps covered my skin. I had never felt anything like this. I just wanted him in every sense of the word. I guided his hand to the waistband of my shorts. He got the hint and pulled them off swiftly, beginning to kiss my thighs and tummy.

My stomach turned. As much as I wanted this, I couldn’t help but be a little scared. Warren looked up briefly and must have seen the look on my face. He softened and returned his attention to my face. The eye contact calmed my nerves, allowing me to give him the go-ahead to take things all the way.

He slowly pulled off my underwear and lined himself up with my entrance. I kept looking into his eyes to steady myself, and before I knew it, he was inside of me. I gasped quietly at the pressure.

‘Okay?’ he grunted. I nodded in reply. He pushed further into me, taking care not to hurt me. Tears rushed to my eyes. It was such a strange feeling. Warren hit his stride. Knowing my limit, he began to thrust rhythmically. At first, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. But after a bit, I began to relax into him and feel the pleasure and warmth of the experience.

I screwed my eyes shut and moaned slightly. Two things I had no control over. Warren moaned, too, seemingly pleased with my reaction. It wasn’t long before he came.

‘My god,’ I sighed, feeling a a sense of relief that was entirely unique and new. Warren, who had crashed down onto the bed next to me, panted heavily.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,’ he murmured.

‘What?’

‘It’s always been you,’ he continued. ‘I’ve always wanted you.’

‘Warren, there’s no way. I’ve always wanted you,’ I said, shocked.

‘I just thought, I don’t know, you saw us as just friends, or something. Nothing more,’ he elaborated.

‘That’s what I thought you felt,’ I replied.

‘Guess we just needed to talk it out,’ he smirked. He pulled me in closer to him, guiding my head to rest on his chest. Experiencing this side of him was something I’d always wanted, and I was in such disbelief that it was all happening so fast.

Listening to his breathing even out, my heart swelled at the dream I was now living.

+++

I think this sucks but I’m not sure LMAO. I just like Warren a lot and I picture him being very soft in private idk. Thank you again for the request!

#evan peters #evan peters fic #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #warren lipka #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka imagine #warren lipka smut

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Canon-adjacent (implied no respawns, or at least heavily impaired respawns, but otherwise canon-ish setting) platonic husbands philza and missa with philza getting himself into a good deal of bother.

TW: needles, blood, major character injury, implied temporary major character death, panic attacks

The mob was new. Of all the things that could do such harm to Philza... there's a lot of them, if he's insufficiently careful, but this one was new. New, and unpredictable, and now very dead.

Very dead, but having left a giant gash from Philza's ribs on one side, to his opposing hip. It's bleeding - heavily - but nothing a potion can't fix.

Philza puts pressure on the wound with one hand, and searches his bag with the other. He grabs a couple of potions - it's a nasty looking wound, and he's already feeling weak - drinking them or pouring them on it as the bottles dictate.

He gives them a second, then another, and the wound doesn't close.

Before he's even had the chance to think /shit/, or /poison/, or /what the fuck was on that mob's stupid scythe/, he has both hands on the injury. His first hand - the hand with his communicator on - is looking pretty gorey already. He puts pressure, realises it's barely helping, then slips his hands around.

He grabs the edges of his skin, pinches them together, and he thinks /okay, fuck, what do I do now?/

For once, Philza does not have an answer. He's a good distance from spawn, his communicator is soaked in blood to the point he isn't sure it'll work and he's very sure he can't see the screen, and if he moves he'll bleed faster. There's also the niggling knowledge in the back of his mind that his thinking is impaired, that he's poisoned and it's likely to have more effects than just preventing his wound closing, that right now if he acts on anything he comes up with then he'll do something extremely dumb.

There's no winning, not when he's having thoughts like that.

Staying put is a shit plan, it's a completely shit plan, and he's pretty sure all versions of him would agree. No matter how he holds the wound he's still bleeding, blood bubbling out between his fingers. If he stays here, in a random glade, a couple of hundred blocks north of the closest build, he's going to die.

If he gets up, if he tries to walk those few hundred blocks... With where the wound is, every single step is going to shift it. He won't be able to pinch the wound closed as he is now, and with every step any healing that's miraculously happened will be undone. He might even tear the damn thing more. He's a couple of hundred blocks north of the Hide and Seek Arena, and nobody's even going to be there at this time of day; if he tries to walk, he's going to die.

What else? What else? He tries to bash his communicator to life, just in case. He keeps the HOLD switch on when he doesn't need it, usually. With his ring finger he manages to reach said switch, and try to flick it. The blood has gotten into the mechanism, disabling it. And with HOLD on... Even if the other buttons escaped the worst, they'll be disabled to. If he gets out of this, he's begging Tubbo or Aypierre or Pac or /someone/ to redesign the damn things, make them blood proof. He's not going to get out of this, though.

He's going to die, and it's going to fucking suck.

Those are, as far as he can tell, his options. None of them are survivable, but at least if he's walking he's /trying/ to live. It'll kill him faster than waiting for help, sure, but Philza's never been much good at standing still.

He pushes up from the tree, and gets eight steps before his knees buckle beneath him.

His hands fly from the wound to catch himself, then back to it to close it back up.

Philza might not be thinking straight, and he might not be good at sitting still, but he's nothing if not stubborn. He grits his teeth, and pinches the wound closed, and drags himself to his feet.

He makes it ten steps, then fifteen, then a whole thirty before he can only make it four. With every attempt his vision grows a little darker, his heart a little faster, his teeth set a little harder into their grimace.

He still gets back up, and gets back up, and gets back up until -

Until he can't any more.

In a hazy blur Philza tries his comms again - still not working - before letting go with one hand. He bleeds even faster without it, yes, but like this? He's too exposed, too exposed, and he can hear the wolves coming. Wolves who might be fine, but might also be looking for an easy meal.

Even dying his instincts kick in; Philza drags himself into a more defensible position, and clamps his fingers around the wound once more.

His body already sprawled on the floor, it's impossible to fall further when his eyes slip shut. Vaguely, vaguely, he's aware of his fingers falling limp, away from the wound and /ah/ he thinks /well, we had a good run, didn't we universe?/.

The universe doesn't answer, or if it does Philza's too far gone to hear it. Maybe the acceptance should scare him, but as he lays beneath a tree, it feels warm, it feels gentle - it feels like coming home.

There's something on the tip of his tongue, some memory just out of reach, some deep-set knowledge he really must know.

He doesn't chase it, he simply leans into the warmth and tries to let go.

"Phil!"

... Missa?

He might be too weak to hear the universe, but not the terrified scream of his husband.

It drives Philza, that flicker of a scream. He manages to get one arm under himself, push up, and-

And he doesn't even get to see the terrified man sprinting towards him, as his vision stays black and his body collapses back to the floor.

---

Philza doesn't expect to wake, not to silence and certainly not to soft Spanish sung by a hoarse voice. Whatever pillows his head is oddly shaped but warm, though everywhere else is freezing despite the weight of blankets. An arm is draped over him, and fingers brush through his hair.

He's also in a fucktonne of pain.

The singing hitches like a sob and - yeah no, that's not an angel, Philza's somehow fucking alive.

He'll take it, but it fucking sucks.

Memories are difficult, fragmented. He's...

He's supposed to be holding shut the wound in his side and /fuck/!

Limbs like lead, Philza tries to move, tries to pinch his bleeding flesh shut once again. It's hard, it should be impossible, but he's Philza Fucking Minecraft and he refuses to die!

He refuses, but one of those arms shifts, tries to stop him. Someone kisses the top of his head, shifts to hold his hands, whispers "you're alright, you're okay" in a gentle tone.

The singer, the singer whose name sits beneath his tongue and Philza can't quite grasp it, but he knows they are /wonderful/, /amazing/, his entire fucking /world/.

Well, maybe not all of it, but a massive fuck-off chunk of it at least.

And it is alright, he is okay, until something catches against his wound.

White hot agony, trailing up and down his entire spine.

Philza... Philza doesn't tense, doesn't scream, doesn't fight - his instincts are strong and his instincts have saved him before and he's just an injured, mutilated bird in the hands of a predator and for a moment all he knows is fucking pain and PLAY DEAD.

He doesn't tense at the pain, he goes limp. He can't even choose how his breathing catches - stopped in his throat, wings slack, body slack, unmoving and unresponsive as can be.

Someone calls his name, but blind pain and blind terror are winning, as in the certainty that he must survive. His name comes again, more frantic, then as a scream-

A scream.

A familiar scream that isn't his own and-

Oh, /fuck/, humans don't play dead in the same way, do they?

Through the pain and the fear and the hands on him it's hard, it's so hard - harder still when he hears running feet from else where and everything he is screams /predator, predator, predator/ - but he does it.

Philza takes a deep, loud, gasping, purposeful breath, forces his body to lock again, forces himself to stop playing, to breathe.

The wonderful voice above him stops screaming and starts sobbing, fingers tracing his jawline as he sobs over and over again.

The running feet stop, and there's a discussion in quick, panicked Spanish - too quick for any Philza, but especially for an injured one - before other hands are touching him, pressing him, assessing him.

His instincts are desperate but Philza remembers the screams before. The fight is exhausting, harder than it should be, but he forces himself to keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing. Just for the voice, just for the wonderful person who owns the voice and he knows means the world to him.

He tries to stay awake, he really does, but there's only so much he can do. He's tired, and breathing is /exhausting/, and the lovely voice belonging to a stupid but brilliant man isn't singing to him any more, and the longer he's here the more he realises he must actually, legitimately, be safe.

Safe, what a funny idea. But a nice one.

Philza gives in to temptation, and lets himself fade.

If he's safe, he can let consciousness be someone else's problem.

---

Philza wakes next to a warm pillow, and frozen blankets, and the distinct smell of honey tea. There's no singing this time, but familiar fingers trace his cheek and Philza feels them and thinks /Missa/.

There's a steady bip bip, and a sting, and his existence is cloudy with painkillers.

All of those sensations - every single one - adds up to /probably/ a good thing.

This time, awake, Philza manages to open his eyes. His vision is blurry, but the light is dim, and he's able to drink in the image of his husband above him sipping on a steaming mug.

Missa's eyes gaze vacantly into the distance. Philza does not chase them down. Instead he reaches up a shaking hand, just about managing to make it high enough to stroke Missa's cheek.

He sees Missa blink, and look down, and whisper "Phil?"

Philza can only gather so much strength, but he smiles his soft smile and mouths back "Missa".

---

A few hours and a nap later, Philza is sat against Missa's chest, and curled in his arms. They're both in an exhausted daze, Philza never having really quite left one, and Missa having been running on fear for too long. It strains the stitches a little, but not so much it bleeds, and Philza will live.

He's had the summary of what happened - Missa found him in the woods, bought him back, called for help healing him even as he cleaned and stitched the wound himself. There's talk of the poison, about it being new, and the struggle to synthesise an antidote before they ran out of blood they could give him.

From the haunted look in everyone's eyes, it was a fucking close run thing.

He'll have to thank Pac and Mike later, for that. He's already asked Fit to pass the message on, along with dropping his communicator off for cleaning, upgrade, and repairs, but, fuck, he knows the sort of toll the two are willing to put themselves through for people, and he knows he owes them.

He hopes Mike stopped Pac poisoning himself this time - Jesus Fucking Christ that man will be the death of Fit one of these days - and given the turn around might even be correct about it.

Silver lining - there's now an antidote for the next time someone runs into one of those fucks, and Aypierre is already working on a way to mass produce it.

And then there's Roier to thank, who might still give Missa side eye at times - and what even happened there - but who knows his way around the hospital /and/ seems to have kept his husband something approximating calm, and then Tubbo let slip they'd had to round up blood donations from everyone compatible to keep him alive and make up for the blood loss and, fuck, at this point he should probably get Chayanne to help him batch cook a /lot/ of shortbread to box up and hand around.

And then there's Missa, his Missa...

He's not sure /why/ Missa sang until his throat could barely function, especially when Philza was too unconscious to appreciate it, but...

But it was also Missa who found him, who saved him.

Philza presses a kiss to his fingers, then presses those fingers against Missa's throat.

"Hm?" Missa asks. "Phil?"

"Thank you," Philza shifts his hand, keeping the backs of his fingers against Missa's throat as he strokes along his chin with his thumb.

"I didn't do much," Missa whispers, his voice still suffering.

"You found me," Philza says. "You saved me."

"The... wolves?" his voice lilts slightly on the word - with Philza's communicator gone and head missing a significant proportion of blood assigned to it, they're stuck in English. "They found you."

"They would have eaten me, not saved me."

"No!" Missa's eyes widen, and arms tighten around him. "No, they are good- good boys!"

"I'm teasing," Philza promises, and maybe he is now but it had been a very genuine fear at the time. "I'm teasing, it's okay, I'm okay..."

He's not, he feels like death, and the painkillers he's been given will wear off soon. But, he's breathing, he's alive, and it doesn't look like that's changing any time soon.

Missa curls around him, hugging him close, protecting him from all sides. It's a position Philza is intimately familiar with, having done it so many times for his children.

"I was scared," Missa's voice breaks. "I was scared - you scared me."

"I'm sorry," and Philza /is/, he never - he's never wanted to be the cause of such worry, such fear. "Missa, I- I'm so sorry."

"You were dead," Missa says, the sobs free and almost drowning his struggling voice. "You were dead, in my arms. I held you dead in my arms."

A mistranslation? Philza wouldn't be here, if he were dead, he knows that much for sure.

"I'm right here," Philza promises, rather than call out his confusion; English is hard, and it's no time for a grammar lesson. "You got my dumb ass out of there, and got help. We're okay, I'm okay."

"Don't leave me," Missa answers. "You're- you're- banned! No leaving me, never leaving me."

Philza doesn't think his words are reaching through the tears; he pools his strength, and reaches up, and holds his husband close. Missa's arms wrap around his chest - not tight, moving as he breathes and clinging to that pace.

"We're okay," Philza whispers - despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, despite the catheter still in his arm just in case the bleeding restarts and he needs another transfusion, despite how controlling his body is like piloting sludge. "We're okay."

And maybe, this time, they will be.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #hurt/comfort #blood #major character injury #so uuuum I do know what happens here #but I didn't write Missa's PoV so.... #i'll let you fill in the blanks #let's just say missa's english isn't that bad... #^-^ #I waaaas going to have more scene where they talked after but... idk I liked this #also fun fact - missa has skeleton hands and so can't take someone's pulse #has no surface-level touch in his hands #he can feel pain if his bones break or you scratch them or make weird vibrations but that's nerves inside the bone #has none on the outside and bone too hard to shift with a pulse so... #cannot detect one

[silent-raven13]

You're my Habichuelas to my Beans on Toast! 😘

(I know weird title, sounded good in my head 😭😂 Also I was gonna title it The thing about beans, but I didn't like it. Maybe Your my Habichuelas and I'm your Beans on Toast 🤔)

(Warning: Slight mention of alcoholism, child abused; starvation-ish)

Every so often Hobie would come by to the Morales family for dinner, he's been doing it for about three to four years, since he started dating Miles. Maybe more when he used to come by with Gwen and Pav.

Mrs. Morales is always kind to offer them to stay over and eat dinner. Whenever she had a day off, she plans to cook double the amount of food, whenever Miles brought home his friends or as of lately, his boyfriend. Sometimes she would look at his body noticing how skinny he is, she would touch his arms or face to feel the bones under his skin. A habit she always did with Miles, too.

Her Puerto Rican instincts took over, always offering more food, telling Hobie or Miles' friends to take some food home. It's always been that way. The funny thing about Hobie is no matter how much he ate, he always remain skinny.

In the beginning, he was overwhelmed by the amount of plates he had to eat. Always being so stuffed, so full that he felt his stomach bulge out. Miles would laugh at the small round belly he would have, because it looked so odd with his tall body. Hobie gotten so used to rarely eating ever since he ran away from home, living on his boathouse with only a canned of beans and toast were his go-to meal. Oh, and he always have beer, his cigarettes and weed to keep him full.

The punker almost forgot how he used to do it, starving for three days at a time. Now, he gotten so used to Rio's meals, he felt hungry! Been a long time since he felt that way, he recalls it was his early childhood when his mother wouldn't buy food for days at a time leaving him and his siblings to starve or search anything in the kitchen. And you guessed it!

They would find a canned of Beans and left over white bread. Their mother would be knocked out from drinking too much, or she would go to the bar leaving them alone. Hobie had to heat up the canned of beans and split it with eight of siblings, always trying to make it last long enough- How he did it? He would add water, steal some vegetables to give it the Jamaican flare, and sometimes his other siblings would hustle on the street to buy a loaf of bread.

He always did worried for them, they were so young to be out on the streets trying to wash cars or pretend to be homeless just for some cash. It was the only way to survive with his neglectful mum. That bitch.

Now, he's blessed with an amazing boyfriend that would always bake him goods or give him leftovers from Mrs. Morales. He never felt so loved from the Morales Family, it felt nice to be part of a heartwarming family. Even if Jeff and Billie give him looks, they are protective of their son, which Hobie will have that then them hating him.

Hobie stood on top of a building noticing Miles behind him, "Hey, baby." His boyfriend gave him a side hug and kiss with their masks on.

"Hey, Sunflower."

"You coming over for dinner, right?"

"Right!" Hobie's stomach growling.

Miles's mask eyes widen being surprised at his lovers' stomach, "Is your stomach growling? I don't think I ever heard it growl." The nineteen year old pouted under his mask, "Have you been eating, mi amor?"

"Hah, it's fine, luv. My stomach knows when to eat." His boyfriend chuckles in amusement, "Its good, I can eat."

"Oh good, my mom made a lot of food today. She made arroz con habichuelas, your favorite! Some chicken, fried plantains, mofongo, salad- Baby, so much! She thinks you lost weight!" Miles said out loud.

"Ha, guess I have to eat three plates today."

"It's okay to go easy on yourself," The nineteen year old Spider-man rubs Hobie's flat hard stomach feeling his abs, "Last time you look like your were about to passed out."

"I did over did it with those pastries, huh?"

"Billie and my dad was about to fight you for taking the last one, too." He giggles, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, "Baby, go easy on yourself today. You can always take the left overs at your place."

"Okay, luv." Hobie lifts up his mask to reveal his mouth, then lifts Miles' to kiss him, "Mmm, I think I'm spoiling myself with dessert first."

Miles chuckles giving him another kissed, this time he snuck in some tongue, "Mmm, me too. You taste so good." He could feel Hobie's hand on his rear. "Haha. Hobie, chill baby. We have dinner with my family."

"Can't help it, you got a nice arse, luv." Hobie kisses him against adding his tongue into the mix. The two let their tongues play with each other to the point Hobie likes to suckle on Miles' tongue giving a low purr sound. Miles would mew back at him with a delightful tone.

Then they both jump hearing Miles' Smartphone ringing out loud causing them to stop, "It's my mom." Miles said being a bit annoyed that she's calling him again. They were getting to the best part of their make out session. He pick up his phone while Hobie continues to kiss him around his cheek and neck. "Hola, mamí?"

Hobie could hear Rio's voice speaking in Spanish, his lips suckling on Miles' neck leaving him a hickey. Just a little surprised to pissed off Jeff. "Sí. Sí! Mami, el viene! Yeah, ma! We're heading there, right now." He could feel Hobie's mouth suckling on his neck giving him a hickey, his hand lightly tap his shoulder to let him stop. "Okay, bye. Love you! Love you, too Billie!" They both could hear the little girl in the background shouting out loud for Miles.

When Miles hung up, he playfully slap his boyfriend's arm, "BAE! You gave me a hickey! Ugh, my dad is so gonna kill you! Do you want to be dead?" He rub where his boyfriend kissed him.

Hobie laughs out loud, "Let him try. Besides, we been together for a good while, darling. He should know by now we have fun, if you catch my drift."

"Ew, BAE! No! I don't want them thinking that. It's weird!" Miles whines with his hand gently punching his boyfriend's chest, almost playing around. "And embarrassing!"

"Awe, but he did saw us making out on your bed!"

"And why did you think he wants the door wide open! He almost threaten to remove it!"

"You're not his daughter! He acting like your his little princess instead of his son."

"Because I am his only son!" Miles whines at his boyfriend, "His baby boy who happens to be bisexual! He's over protective!"

"Too protective, if you ask me. I'm surprised they want to know where your at, or what time your coming home!"

Miles laughs in amusement, "That's what happens when you got a Puerto Rican mom, bae. There's no such thing as freedom under a Black Latino household. I'm just lucky they didn't give me curfews, some of the kids I grew up on my block still have them."

"That's bonkers, luv. I rather be free than at home."

"Why you think I spend most of the time sneaking out, bae?" Miles smirks at him. "Anyway, let's go. My mom said food is hot." He pulled down his mask to cover his mouth as he began swinging to his home, Hobie follows!

"Ya! YAYAYA! Ohh, yummy!" Billie sits in her high chair holding out her spoon being so excited to eat, her mom always makes the most delicious meals. Her favorite would be mofongo and arroz con haichuelas. Something about them makes her mouth water. She had her cute little Doc McStuffin bib on, "Ohh! Oh!" Her eyes saw her dad pouring juice in his cup. "Jugo! Jugo!"

"I'm coming, princess." Jeff chuckles, seeing his kid wanting her juice in a sippy cup.

"Remember to water it down. She can't have too much sugar, mi amor." Rio said to her husband.

Jeff said, "I know the drill, honey." He took a pink sippy cup adding a bit of water then juice to dilute it. Tightening the lib, he handed the sippy cup to his toddler.

"Gracias, papá!" Billie happily took her sippy cup to drink it. "Mmm, juice!"

"Aye, sî, mi bebé." Rio coos at her daughter as she placed a bowl of salad in the middle of the table, she put her hands on her hips. "Where is Miles and Hobie?"

"I don't know. You called me them?" Jeff asked serving Billie's plate and his wife food. Then, he made his own plate.

"Yes, and he said he was almost here! That boy always late."

"Hmph, I'm telling you. Hobie got him running around the streets." Jeff grunts.

"Aye, Hobie only listens to Miles."

"You're telling me Miles is the one telling him what to do?" Jeff asked in disbelief. "I never seen Miles do that."

"He's part Puerto Rican, Jeff. I wouldn't be surprised if he's a bit tóxico or the jealous type with his novio! Remember how I was when we were dating?"

"How can I forget? You always hated when any girl came to flirt with this handsome man." Jeff grins widely remembering Rio being the jealous type and never taking bullshit from anything.

"Hahaha," Billie got her plate of food being happy, "Yummy!" Jeff set his wife's plate and his own on their spot.

"You hungry, mi amor?" Rio asked her daughter watching her take a spoonful into her mouth.

"Mmhhmm," Billie nodded with excitement. What more could she want in life? She got Arroz con Habichuelas, mofongo and her juice! Life is good for her.

Then, Miles quickly open the front door with his key wearing a work out outfit that covers his Spiderman suit underneath him. "Sorry, we're late. Had to catch the bus!" He said out loud sounding like a lie. "Hobie is here!"

"Hola, Mrs. Morales. Hey, dad." Hobie grins widely at Jeff, hearing the older man choking on his own plate of food. Rio cover her hand to hide her laughter seeing the way her husband went to grab his glass of juice to chug whatever he's choking on.

"Excuse me, young man?" Jeff finally asked in his firm policeman tone.

Hobie grins widely like picking on Miles' dad for the heck of it, "Nuthin' just saying hello, pops!"

Miles playfully pat Hobie, "Behave, bae. I'ma go serve you a plate."

Hobie said, "Its fine, luv. I can serve myself." He quickly dodges a dart aimed at him, he looks over to find Billie using her web shooter.

"Damn." She said with a pout.

Rio's eyes widen, "Billie, no se digas eso!" She glares at Jeff, "Did you thought her that?"

Hobie laughs at the way Rio scolding Jeff, he went over to find Miles by the stove getting food for him. The punker rested his head on his lover's shoulder watching him serve his food. "Luv, it's okay. I can serve my-" Miles cut him off, "No, I'll do it. You want more arroz?"

"Yes, darling. Two more scoops."

"Wow, you love rice and beans more than me. Are you sure you're not Puerto Rican, bae?" The nineteen year old chuckles.

"Heh, I am Jamaican, luv." Hobie saw his boyfriend opening another lid that had cooked seasoned chicken, "Two legs, please."

"Okay." He said putting two legs of cooked chicken on the plate.

"There's Mofongo! El necesita comer, Miles!" Rio said out loud.

"Okay, mamí." Miles said to Hobie, "She said you gotta eat Mofongo."

"Ay, tostones, también!"

"And tostones."

"Give me all of it." Hobie kisses Miles' cheek, "I'll eat everything."

Miles giggles, "Alright!"

"Hey, six feet apart, young man!" Jeff eyes the two seeing how close Hobie would get close to his son with his arms around his waist. Nope, he did not like that, his son is too young to be manhandle like that.

"Ay, Jeff. Déjalo!" Rio lightly pat her husband's hands, she turns over to find nothing wrong, "You used to do that to me!"

"Well-I- I was a committed boyfriend at th-" Billie snorted, "Hmmm."

Hobie turns over with grin on his face, "Don't worry, pops. I'm committed to my darling Sunflower." He lay his head on Miles' back who's still busy adding food on his plate.

"It's fine, mi amor." Rio rubs her husband's hand, "Let them snuggle."

"Heh, yo wouldn't like it if Miles was a girl and be 'snuggling' like that." Jeff grunts.

Miles got his own plate of food, "Hey, bae. You thirsty?"

"Yeah, I'll have a pop if you got any."

"Okay." His boyfriend went into the fridge to pull out two glass bottles of Coke Cola, and open the cap with a bottle opener. The two took their own plates and pop to sit beside each other. Rio saw Hobie sitting at the end of the table across from Jeff, which is always funny to see the two facing each other. Miles sat next to his mom while his boyfriend on his right side.

"Oui? Que poquito!" Rio's eyes glanced at Hobie's plate, "Miles, you didn't give him enough!"

Miles look at his boyfriend's plate seeing the mountain of food, "Mamí, I did! Look, he got three big scoops of arroz, dos piernas de pollo yet mofongo. I even gave him five tostones!"

"Mira qué flaco tu novio es! He needs more food, Miles. You gonna need to serve him a second plate." Rio said with a worry tone, somehow she always find a way to overfed her son's boyfriend.

"Baby, he's fine. The boy can't be eating all our food!" Jeff said with a grunt. "Billie may want another plate of mofongo."

"Huh uh!" Billie chews with her mouth covered in food and her bid all dirty.

"Actually I wouldn't mind another plate of rice and beans. It's one of my favorites." Hobie began eating his plate already feeling his stomach being so happy.

"See! He's gonna be a fine Boricua para Miles." Rio smirks at her husband, "He likes the food, I bet you love it more than tu país' comida!"

Miles spoke for Hobie, "Hahaha, ma. Hobie loves England." The two made up a lie that Hobie move to the USA from England to get his music career going as a Punk Star. It's one of the best lies, since they didn't have to worry about meeting his boyfriend's families... not yet that is.

"Say," Jeff began as he uses a fork to get a rice into his mouth, "What do you, British people eat over there? Or ya'll just drink tea and crumpets?"

"Dad! That's rude!" Miles said out loud, being in shock by his dad's words.

"What? Don't they just drink tea and eat those little fancy cakes?" Jeff asked out loud.

"I saw this video on Youtube of this guy going to London and he ate this big English breakfast and it got these steamed tomatoes, sausages, runny egg, and beans! I never knew British people like beans?" Rio asked out loud being surprised about her discovery on English food.

"I dunno... can't trust some white people making beans." Jeff mutters lowly.

Hobie laughs out loud in amusement, he glances at Miles biting his bottom lip, "It's alright, luv. They wanna know." He reassures his partner before talking, "Actually, I grew up with a different experience, my mum was absent and me and my siblings would eat a lot of store bought meals. So, I never actually had those fancy little cakes or English breakfast till... I started my band and made some money."

"So what did you eat growing up?" Rio asked sounding a bit worried. An absent mother? That got alarms ringing in her head.

"Well, I am Jamaican, so my English meals would have a bit of flare, a bit of seasoning- but often I enjoyed a bottle of ale with beans on toast." He said out loud.

Now, Miles' parents knew Hobie drinks, and he used the excuse that English teenagers drink early without being in trouble with the law, it's not illegal unlike here in the USA. "Qué, Qué?' Rio arched her eyebrows, "Beans on toast?"

"Well, I give you that, a nice cold beer is better than any tea with a meal." Jeff grunts. "But what is beans on toast, Mr. Brown?"

"It's ya regular canned beans on a good toast. One of my favorite meals growing up." Hobie casually chews his food.

Miles slowly chews, "Like frijoles con pan? The way Mexicans, and Central Americans eat it?"

"What do you mean, luv?" Hobie arched his eyebrows. "You seen me eat it before."

"Did I?" Miles tries to remember, "Ohhh, wait those are beans? I thought it was jam or some spread!"

"No, darling. Those are beans! The best ones are from the Hienz brand with tomato sauce." Hobie said, he let out a chuckle seeing Miles' parents looked so confused.

"Heinz? Como la ketchup bottle brand?" Rio asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Morales."

"Heinz do make baked beans, but aren't they sweet beans?" Jeff asked, finding his stomach bubbling in a weird way at the thought.

"I never knew..." Rio honestly said, "I'm so used to buying Goya."

"Do you just eat it with toast?" Miles asked, he only ate his Habicuelas with rice, unless if they ever and he means EVER ran out of rice, he would grab a french bread or pan Sabao to eat his beans. It's filling for him to last through the afternoon, but it's very rare. His mom always have stacks of white rice in pantry.

Also he didn't want to judge his boyfriend's favorite meal, when they are eating beans and rice. Not to mention, a lot of Mexicans and Central American folks like to eat refried beans with bread.

"Actually it's a bit sweet cause that tomato sauce, but I always fancy adding more salt to my beans." Hobie began then answered Miles' question, "Growing up we would eat it just like that. Sometimes if we're lucky we get salted butter. Some like it with cheese on top or get a little fancy with an egg yolk, or I've seen some like to add sugar to make it sweeter. I always prefer it savory with some onion, fresh tomatoes, bell peppers and garlic." He chuckles looking at his boyfriend's giving a slight nod.

"Ma!" Billie finished her plate wanting more.

"Quieres mas, mi niña?" Her mom got up to serve her a bit more when Billie drink her juice giving a nod.

Jeff said, "Egg yolk? I think I would've liked it if you ate fancy little cakes instead."

"My family was never able to afford it, pops." Hobie grins widely not being too bothered sharing his childhood life, as long it's not too deep.

"Pero, mijo..." Rio came back with Billie's plate have a little bit of mofongo and rice with beans, "Was there anything else you grew up eating?"

"Well, Jamaican patties, store bought. Canned soups, frozen meals. Money was always tight." Hobie remembers him and his siblings would do the shopping with a few bucks and try to make their money stretched. The memories of finding cheap cans, frozen meals and anything that help them last till the next was always a struggle. "Sometimes we would make up ways to make eggs last longer like adding flour or corn bread. There was nine of us."

"Dios mio." Rio sounded upset hearing that, she never wanted her own kids to struggle that way. She knew the moment her and Jeff were married and planned to have kids is to always make enough money for their family. No wonder Hobie is so thin. "Aye, no. Miles, dale mas comida! Con razón es tan flaco!"

"Mamí, he's fine now. He ates all the time!" Miles said out loud seeing how his mom already panicking as if Hobie is going to disappear. Rio came with another plate with more food for the tall English punker.

Hobie laughs in amusement, "It's alright, luv. I can eat it."

"I don't want you to get a stomach ache." Miles said being worried as he watched his mom place a plate of food with extra everything much bigger than what Miles serve him.

"Ma, that's too much food! You're gonna kill him!"

"Miles, no empieces! I never heard of someone dying from being full and I work at the hospital!" Rio smack her lips.

"Yayayaya," Billie mimics her mom.

Jeff said to Hobie, "You better eat all of that, before you make her mad."

The family went back and forth talking during dinner. Hobie helped Miles cleaned up while Jeff lay on the couch watching television with Billie. The middle age man slowly knocked out letting Billie have to remote to put on her show. The little girl giggles as she watch Bluey.

Rio packed some food for Hobie to take home, which he didn't mind. Sometimes his bandmates would come by and eat most of it. He normally likes Rio's Habichuelas Guisadas, they savory full of powerful flavor, the taste of potato and olives give another extra level.

The two wanted some alone time, so Hobie casually said, "Darling wanna go for a walk?" A walk meaning let's be Spiderman and hang out somewhere.

Miles smiles widely, "Sure." He went to get his Smartphone and keys to the front door, "Ma, I'm going out with Hobie. I'll be back."

"Okay, be home by eleven!" Rio hums as she went to sit on the couch next to her snoring husband and daughter.

"Ma, I'm nineteen!" He pouts having to whine a bit. Hobie likes it when Miles acted a little spoiled bratty toward his parents, it's cute to see his legs shake.

Rio gave him a look then sighs, "Midnight." Her voice stern. "Under this roof, you still have a curfew!"

"Okay!" Miles rather have that, than ten'o clock when he was younger! This is why he rather sneak out than ask.

"Thank you, Mrs. Morales for the meal. It was amazing as always." Hobie said to Miles' mother putting on his good charms. He went over to give her a hug. "Have a good night."

"Thank you, hijo! You're always welcome to eat here. Qué tengas buenas noches." She smiles to him, her hand patting his back, "You got plenty of food?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, then he lightly pinches Billie's cheek, "Good night, Billie Boo." Holding his plastic bag filled with containers of food.

"Mmm, no!" She turns her head at him, as she swat his hand away from her face. "No, sleep!"

"Billie be nice." Her mom said.

Hobie chuckles at the little girl turning back to watch her show. Then, he saw Jeff knocked out snoring, seeing how he didn't need to say good-bye to him. He went along with Miles with his arm around his lover's shoulder as they walk out of the apartment.

The two quickly went up on the building's roof and started to put their masks on. They went to a much higher building from the public eye view, swinging with their webs doing fun tricks and flips.

The two got to see the sky already getting dark. "Ugh, I'm stuffed." Hobie said hitting his chest to get rid that feeling of being full. He took off his mask to breathe better.

"Told you not to eat, bae." Miles took off his mask, his nike black and neon pink outfit protecting him from the cold night. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Sunflower. I'm actually better that I'm full." He stood showing off his stomach, "See? No belly."

"Yeah, that means you're getting used to eating so much." Miles' eyes on his partner's flat stomach, "How did you put it all away?"

"I just do." He chuckles pulling his boyfriend into his arms still holding a bag of his food. Leaning over to kisses his boyfriend's lips.

The sound of them kissing got them more into it. Miles' hands hold Hobie's fit arms, he let out a little moan, "Mmm."

His boyfriend would chuckles as they kept going with their tongue. They can taste their savory mouth, their lips smacking against each other. Once Miles pulled away, "Shit, I wished I snuck out." He pouted.

"You can still can. Go back home and snuck out when they fall asleep." Hobie purrs having to pull his lover closer to his crotch, "Luv, you got me in a frenzy."

"Mmm, me too." Miles kiss him again, "Mwah. Mwah." Giving his boyfriend all the kisses, then pulls away, "You know, I don't mind giving it a try."

"Trying what?"

"Beans on toast. I want to try it," His hands rubbing his boyfriend's muscular chest feeling it through all the punk layer clothing, "I wanna know what you like, learn more about your childhood and family."

"Oh," Hobie suddenly became defensively, "Luv, we don't need to go that deep. I'm fine with you trying my favorite meal and meeting my siblings, but more?"

"Hobie, I wanna be there for you. I still don't know much on your past. You keep avoiding it. The only thing I got is your dad a fucking asshole for bailing out on you and your family, and your mom being absent."

"Miles, my mum is drunk. I've told you this." His boyfriend move away wanting to move away from this topic.

"Yeah, but I wanna know about little Hobie." Miles tries to having his boyfriend close to him, "Hobie Brown, at least open up to me more, I'm your boyfriend."

"It's not that easy, luv. We are Spidermen. We went through too much crap, I... look," He holds his boyfriend's hands, "give me more time, hm? For now, I'll let you try my childhood meals. Okay, sunflower?"

"Okay," Miles pouts, "I love you, Hobie. I just want to know more about you, okay."

"I know, luv. It's hard for me." He kisses his lover, "I promise I'll be open to you. You know, your my Sunflower."

"I know." He felt Hobie's lips on his cheek.

"You know, you're my Habichuelas to my bean toast." He grins widely.

Miles blink a couple of times, "What?" He laughs playfully shoving his boyfriend back, "That's so fucking cheesy, damn!"

"I had to try it. Does it work?"

"No! But I love you, so I'll take it." Miles kisses him back.

"So it's a win!" Hobie grins widely holding his boyfriend as they kissed, again. They enjoyed their time making out.

(So Hobie got some siblings and I was surprised he would be the youngest out of the 9.)

(Part 2)

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #spiderman #spider man #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderverse #atsv

[starmist]

Theory: The Real Reason Jin Mu Hid Cho Yeong

This bit of information is never actually explained and it drives me nuts, like it makes zero sense why he would do such a thing. If the point of killing the Cho Family (and in such a cruel way as well) was to “torture” Jang Gang, why didn’t he also just kill Yeong as well? Cho Chung slashed plenty of people that night, it wouldn’t raise any questions if he’d killed her and said he’d found the body wherever. This would also hurt Jang Gang quite a bit, that because of him his best friend and the entirety of that family, including such a young girl (that he probably knew as well) had been killed by her own father.

There is no obvious reason to have kept her alive. I’m also going to dismiss that Jin Mu wanted to use her to kill his enemies/soul shifters. It’s unlikely since Jang Gang had the ice stone and sealed it way after the massacre. Jin Mu was only able to perform the alchemy of souls around ten years later after Jin Bu Yeon found it.

Also, I know Jin Mu is absolutely insane but who looks at a five(ish) year old and go “imma turn her into a killer”. Especially since there seems to have been nothing special about her unlike Jang Uk and Jin Buyeon, I mean he himself states that he had never expected her to become as powerful as she did. I’m not entirely sure he even meant for her to survive.

For the same reasons I don’t think he ever meant to actually use her against the four families either, so why? Why would he go into all that effort to kidnap her, hide her, travel into the mountains to provide (the bare minimum of) supplies along with the resources to become a mage? So much effort and for what? What could he possibly gain from this? What benefit did he see in keeping this girl alive?

The answer is: a lot.

We see that Jang Gang abandons Jang Uk shortly after he’s born, but we also know that Cho family massacre, an event he was present for, happened sometime after that day, though we don’t have an actual timeline. Kim Dojoo also mentions in episode 8 that there was a time (before Jang Uk was conceived) that Jang Gang would hole up at Cheonbugwan for days at a time.

It’s not a stretch to believe he did the same prior to the massacre.

Kim Dojoo also tells Master Lee that the real reason Jang Gang left was in hopes that he could find his best friend’s daughter.

So what am I getting at here? What does this have to do with anything? Well, there was no body that means both that Jang Gang had some semblance of hope that Yeong was alive and was willing to do a lot to find her.

To leave the fortress for years and years, to search almost endlessly for her. Because she was his best friend’s daughter, the daughter of the family died because Jang Gang brought the alchemy of souls back into the world, the one and only person from that family the could maybe, possibly be alive!

She was his one chance at redemption, the one person he could save, make it up in some small way to his friend; a way that he hadn’t destroyed everything.

(It’s also not unreasonable to assume that he had personally known Yeong. I mean, if he left to look for her that means he felt that he would be able to recognize her. We also know that she frequented Cheonbugwan with her father and is even implied to have visited the Jang household as well therefore there were plenty of opportunities for them to meet)

Jin Mu, as Jang Gang’s servant and pupil, would know and understand these things. So he makes her disappear and Jang Gang goes looking for her.

In the mean time, with the Gwanju gone, Jin Mu gained power, became Bu-Gwanju, found the ice stone, even created an entire, insanely loyal secret society and put Shaman Choi on the throne. By the time the show opens, the King is looking for a way to make Jin Mu the Gwanju in full! All because Jang Gang was gone!! He had so so much to gain by hiding her away and sending his master on a wild goose chase with the slightest hope that she might be alive.

Also, lets say by chance, Jang Gang did come back. Well, Jin Mu had bred so much hate into Naksu and she trained to become a mage as well. He could easily have sent her after him, not really expecting her to win but to bait Jang Gang. Have him figure out her identity, have him be tortured by her hate or even by Jang Gang unknowingly hurting/killing her.

There are just so many more was to torture Jang Gang by keeping her alive, so much to gain, how could Jin Mu not? Yeong surviving was an absolute golden opportunity for him.

#alchemy of souls #been on my mind for awhile but ive been too lazy to articulate #mudeok

[keeshya6]

Last Chance

Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You had been happy once. That was a long time ago. Then life had just gotten in the way.

And after that? The world ended.

Since then, you've just been trying to survive. You definitely didn't think you'd ever run into your past, much less have a chance to try again.

Content Warnings and general info: This will be both post- and pre- outbreak. There WILL be spoilers from the show. Slow burn, kinda. You'll see what I mean.

I do avoid most specific descriptors for Reader characters, but she does have long-ish hair, though texture and color are not specified. She also blushes, though I don't specify just how noticeable it is. Character will have a background/history. I tend to treat a Reader character like a role that people can step into, rather than her literally being the person reading it. The Reader character also has a nickname.

First chapter doesn't really have much to warn about other than minor flirtation. That's about it. I will include more warnings in future chapters.

Lastly, this is a pretty short chapter, just to get us started. Future chapters will be longer, I'm sure. Possibly, significantly longer.

Also available on Ao3

I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

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This can't be real. 

There's no way that's him. No way. 

You haven't seen him in two decades. Since the day you broke your own heart and boarded a plane out of Texas. That was over a thousand miles away.

And about four months before the world ended.

You swallow thickly, your brows pinching together into a scowl as you look at his back for another moment, trying to quiet the rapid beating of your heart.

"Tommy?" His name comes out of you with a bit of a squeak and you have to clear your throat. 

He stops, mid-sentence in ordering a drink at the bar of The Tipsy Bison, and turns to look at you. 

You hadn't meant to be rude and interrupt. You're just so surprised.

You're not the only one. 

Tommy's eyes narrow a bit as he looks at you, faint recognition showing in his expression, like he's trying to place your face. 

He hasn't changed. The same dark hair, worn long. Same small mustache. Same dark eyes. Handsome features worn a little bit with age, but not much. He still looks just like you remember Tommy Miller looking. 

Those dark eyes finally light up with realization and his brows shoot up towards his hairline. He gasps out your name before giving a laugh of disbelief and coming off of his barstool in a rush to scoop you up in a hug.

You squeak again in surprise and then you're laughing, too. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you return the hug as he lifts you off the floor for a moment. 

When he sets you back down on your own feet, he's beaming at you. "What are you doing here, Eeps?"

You give an exaggerated sigh and roll your eyes. "Oh God, I forgot about that nickname."

Tommy grins down at you. "I did, too, until you made that noise."

You scrunch up your nose at him before you're both laughing again.

Giving a firm squeeze to your shoulders, he guides you over to the bar. "When did you get into Jackson?"

It takes you a moment to maneuver yourself onto one of the tall barstools and then he sits on the one next to you. "About a week ago. Just…been getting settled," you answer with a shrug. "How about you?"

"Almost two years ago now," he says with a slight shrug. 

You give a little nod in acknowledgement, and then a quiet moment passes before you smile at him again. "You look good, Tommy."

He smirks, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. There might even be a bit of a red tinge in his cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks, Eeps. Things have been…pretty good lately." His smirk becomes a grin and he seems to get lost in thought for a moment. "Yeah…Jackson's been good to me," he says with a firm nod, focusing on you again. He reaches over, lightly bumping your knee with a fist. "You're looking good too!"

You snort softly and laugh. "Should've seen me a week ago. You wouldn't have recognized me at all. Amazing what a week's worth of decent sleep and some good food will do."

His face splits into another brief grin. "Yeah, it is." Then, Tommy hesitates for a moment, growing serious before asking, "Where were you before?"

You fidget with the bottom hem of your shirt, absentmindedly, giving a small shrug as your expression turns sad. A little haunted. "The Portland QZ. It… it got overrun a few months ago."

A noticeable cringe crosses his features. "Damn. Sorry."

Another shrug lifts up your shoulders. "Fact of life now," you murmur.  Then you give him another strained smile. "But thanks." You pause for a moment, before your curiosity starts to poke at you. "What about you…before here?" 

Tommy turns on his stool to face the bar, waving to catch the bartender's attention before looking over at you again. "Umm… a few different places. Boston, for a while. Then, worked my way across the country."

"Oh, wow," you gasp out, your eyebrows arching sharply. And you thought it would have been a long trip from Austin. "Um… were you-"

You cut your question short when the bartender steps over. Tommy requests a whiskey for himself and gives you a questioning look. 

"Oh… just a beer, please?"

The bartender nods and turns to grab your drinks as Tommy focuses back on you. 

You're fidgeting again, this time tapping your fingertips one at a time against the pad of your thumb. It's an old, nervous habit.

"All the way across the country, huh?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. "On-on your own?"

A soft, knowing smile crosses Tommy's lips. "No. Most of the time I was with friends."

Friends. 

Not family. 

You nod, grateful for the beer that's placed in front of you. Grabbing it up, you take a long swig of it as he takes a swallow of his whiskey.

When you look back at Tommy again, you sigh shakily. That knowing look hasn't left his face. You both know the questions you are avoiding asking.

You're scared that you already know the answers. 

You thought you had moved on a long time ago, never having expected to see anyone from your past again. 

Just seeing Tommy alive, so far from the life you knew him in before, is a miracle. This world has so few of those to offer anymore.

It's too much to ask for another. 

Tommy is the one to break the growing silence between you though, taking pity on you so you don't have to voice your question. 

His words steal the air from your lungs. 

"Joel's alive, Eeps."

—

"Um, hey there…"

You had nearly choked on a gulp of red wine, surprised by that voice. Thankfully, it had come from behind you, and you were able to cover up your mishap by gently clearing your throat before turning. 

Swallowing hard, you had turned on your toes to find the source of the voice as it spoke again.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced yet, Miss."

Oh, Good Lord. If that luscious baritone -with just a hint of a fry to it- wasn't as sweet as a good, Georgia-peach iced tea, then you didn't know what was. 

And the face that came with it?

Well, if they made men like this in Texas, then you thought you just might be able to learn to like it here after all. 

His words had finally clicked in your mind and you gave a little smile, shaking your head. "No. I don't think so."

Eyes of the warmest and richest russet brown you'd ever seen watched you closely, seeming to study the details of your own eyes as you took in the details of his. Tiny lines at their corners deepened as he gave you an almost bashful smile.

"Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to fix that," he said, a bit of a drawl coming through.  His broad shoulders moved in a shrug before he offered a hand. "M' name's Joel Miller."

Your tongue darted across your lips as unexpected nervousness pricked at your mind, your stomach a bit of a flutter.  Reaching out, you couldn't help noticing how his hand dwarfed your own, yet his grip was gentle as he shook it. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miller," you said, after giving him your name and a soft smile.

His rumbling chuckle made a warmth dance across your skin, and you prayed to whoever might listen that you weren't actually blushing like a silly school girl. 

"Please, just Joel is fine. If my brother heard me called 'Mr. Miller'... well, I'd never hear the end of it."

You laughed a little at that and nodded, nervously tucking a rebellious lock of hair behind your ear. Lifting your glass of wine, you took a sip of it to give yourself a moment, to gather up your nerves and tuck them back away where they belonged. 

After that sip, and a clarifying deep breath, you felt a little more composed and gave him a warm smile. 

"Okay, Joel it is." 

Oh well, jeez, why did he have to smile like that? You had just gotten that threat of a blush under control!

Then you blinked in realization. 

"Oh! 'Miller'. You're with the new contracting company that saved our bacon on the top floors," you said. 

Now he almost seemed to blush with a single-shouldered shrug. "I don't know about 'saved your bacon', but yeah. That's my company."

You definitely knew that Miller Construction had saved your bosses some hassle. You were part of the architectural design team for a new high-rise hotel in Austin. The build was nearly done except for the top two floors, which included what would be the highest costing suites, when the previous contractors had started pulling some tricks in an attempt to renegotiate their contract. The firm you worked for had nearly been forced to agree to the new terms just to meet the deadline,  when Miller Construction came around with a bid that saved them time and money. 

In fact, it was such a good deal that you had wondered how the new contractor could possibly be making any money off of it. It turned out that it was a fairly new company. The owners, a pair of brothers that your boss knew from when they worked for a different company, were just getting started on their own and trying to build up their customer base. 

Your smile had brightened a bit. "Oh, I know you saved us a bunch of hassle," you said. "And we appreciate it."

His smile widened, enough for a single dimple to cease one cheek. "Well… I won't argue it. I'll happily accept your appreciation," he had drawled. 

Oh boy. You were in trouble.

And this time you knew you were blushing.

#fanfic #reader insert #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #ao3 fanfic #ao3

[buckttommy]

5x17 spec fic(ish). is it spec fic or purely self-indulgent pining and fluff? you decide (1.6k)

"So how did it go?" Buck's voice is thin through the line of the phone. There's the sound of fabric rustling as he gets ready for bed, probably throwing on a hoodie and shorts like the weirdo he is as they speak. It's late enough for bed; beyond late enough, actually. Eddie glances at the clock. Already 2AM his time which means it's just past one in Los Angeles.

"Ah." Eddie lays back on the starchy hotel sheets. How did it go? He's not sure how to answer that. He can't remember the last time he cried in front of his parents. Or, more accurately, he probably could remember if he dug deep and tried hard enough, but he already feels like he walked out of a six-hour long therapy session; a walk down memory lane is probably not in his best interests tonight. "You remember how you felt after the dinner from hell with your parents?"

"You mean how it felt like I'd been hit by a mack truck going eighty and dragged down a highway? No, why would I remember that?" Buck huffs a quiet laugh that dissolves into a loud yawn.

Eddie misses that yawn. It's a weird thought to have, and in broad daylight, he will blame it on sleep deprivation and heightened emotion, but that's not the full truth of it. The full truth of it is that it only took Eddie a matter of days to become used to the sounds Buck makes before he falls asleep: the hum of his yawns, and the snuff of his nose, and the little noises he makes in the back of his throat when he's trying to follow his own train of thought and promptly loses it.

Eddie has hoarded all of those noises, tucked away in a box labeled Buck in the back of his brain. It used to be labeled Things About Buck that Only I Know, erected during the first night of quarantine and filled up every night during the four or so months he stayed within the clinical confines of Buck's loft. But that was before he got shot, before Taylor crept into all the spaces he vacated and learned all those little things that only he was supposed to know.

"Hey," Buck murmurs, sleep making the edges of his voice soft. Eddie hadn't realized he never responded, lost to the winding web of own thoughts. "You with me?"

"I'm with you."

Eddie clicks off the light at his bedside, plunging the room into darkness. Somewhere on the West Coast, Buck does the same.

It is all too easy to picture Buck in between his sheets. After—well, after, Buck spent weeks in his home making sure Eddie remembered how to be a person. He slept on the sofa seventeen nights out of eighteen, but is the eighteenth night that is woven into the notches and grooves of Eddie's brain, the eighteenth night being the first night, the one in which every hurt and bruised feeling Eddie had ever felt spilled forth and bled on everyone he loved. Eddie laid in bed curled up on his side, raw and tender, for approximately twenty minutes and forty-three seconds before Buck was gently easing his bedroom door open and settling down behind him. There was no hesitancy in the way Buck wrapped his arm around Eddie's middle, nothing but gentleness in the way he eliminated every molecule of space between them until Eddie was spooned against his front, Buck's palm against his heart.

"I've got you," Buck had whispered into his skin, lips so close Eddie could feel the drag of them against his flesh.

I've got your heartbeat in one hand—alive, alive—and your soul in the other—trying to survive.

He's still not sure if Buck was aware of the fact that he could feel his tears dripping into the downy hair at the base of his neck or if he just assumed Eddie had fallen to sleep. But Eddie hadn't, not even when Buck's breathing had evened out behind him. He just laid there mapping out and memorizing every point of contact between their clothed bodies, jotting down every second of that liminal moment in which nothing but that room and that house existed so he could remember every detail for a rainy day.

Eddie can picture Buck in his bed all too clearly because he has had it, tasted it, has woken up to the sight of Buck's head buried in his pillows the next morning, early light burrowing into the pillow creases in his cheeks. If there is a sight Eddie will never forget, it is that one, if only because his very bones whispered mine at the sight of it.

Buck hums into the receiver; Eddie knows that sound too, a would-be response were he not too exhausted to make his lips move.

"How's our—how's Chris?" Eddie wants to ask before Buck drops off to sleep.

There is a slight pause, electric and charged with the way Eddie can feel the way Buck's brain comes online, just the slightest bit. How's our boy, he almost asked.

He can almost taste the question on Buck's lips as if it exists on his own: how's our what?

Eddie's breath catches in the base of his throat. Please ask. Please, Buck, don't ask.

Buck doesn't ask.

"He's okay," he says after a beat. "He misses you. We both do."

"I miss you too."

Eddie yawns. His eyelids are heavy, heavy enough that he doesn't care whether or not Buck reads the personal pronoun as being personal or inclusive. But he knows Buck and Buck knows him, and he knows there's not a single world that exists in which Eddie can fathom the three of them existing as anything other than a unit.

You put some man in your will, his father had spat. That's a slap in the face to your mother and I; after all we've done for Christopher, all we've done for you.

As if love is a currency, a bartered exchange between two distant parties. Hell, maybe in his family, that is all it will ever be. But that is not is not love. Love is a garden that leaves blossoms on your tongue and teeth, planting seeds every time you kiss the cheek of someone you adore and cradle. Love is soot under your nails and smoke in your skin, because love always leaves the ninety-nine to save the one. Love is the giggle of your son pressed against the cotton of your shirt, and a rosepetal birthmark above a strong brow set in a kind face, and a home-cooked meal spread out on a long wooden table.

Love, Eddie knows now, is an action verb; it is not just an inkstain in Merriam-Webster's; it lives and breathes and weaves and anchors. It exists, even if it runs dry within the walls of his parents' home.

He's not some man, he's the one person who has been there for me when I didn't even know how to be there for myself. He has done more for me than either of you combined in the four years I've known him than the thirty-plus years you've had me.

And what? Ramon sneered. You love him or something?

Yeah, Eddie said. Yeah, I love him.

"Eddie." Buck's voice in his ear, barely tethered to reality. A glance at the clock: 2:50AM.

How long has Eddie just laid here listening to him breathe, remembering the feel and weight of him, drifting between recent past and drowsy present?

"I'm here."

"You're not, though."

No, he is not. Eddie has never felt the ache of absence as acutely as he does in this moment.

"I'm not," he agrees. "But I will be soon."

Buck's voice is a little more urgent when he speaks, still sleepy soft but threaded through with the need to funnel every syllable into his eardrum. "Come back home. Be here with everyone in this city who loves you and knows you; everyone who feels it when you're gone. I'm not—I know they're your family, and I'm not trying to—"

"I know," Eddie whispers. His eyes burn, salty tears reservoiring underneath his lids. "I know, Buck."

"Yeah," Buck breathes. "I know you do." There's a pause, an exhale followed by a shaky inhale. "Come back home to me, Eddie."

Ah, this... this is what it sounds like when the world sighs in contentment; six words, an anchor in stormy seas, a tether around his middle keeping him from drifting away: Come back home to me, Eddie.

Eddie doesn't think his name has ever sounded so sweet.

He sobs into his hand, just once, more of an exhalation than a cry, a release he has grown weary of trying to stifle. Buck makes another noise in the back of his throat, one that would be unfamiliar if not for that night he held him in his arms—a warm droplet of sound that only means rest, I'm here.

"I'm so tired."

Eddie's voice is barely a whisper, but Buck hears it anyway. Buck always hears it.

"Sleep. I'll pick you up at the airport tomorrow."

"Wait for me to come home." Please, he almost adds, but he's never needed to beg Buck for time. If anything, Buck is always the one who has given it in spades.

Buck sighs down the line, and Eddie swears he can feel his breath on the back of his neck, his palm counting the beats of his heart.

"Always," Buck swears.

Always.

#Will crosspost this later #my fic #jack.txt

[renhaswritersblock]

Hey! Can you please do the NSFW alphabet with Corey Cunningham? Thanks!

A/N: Hi @fat-bottom-demon ! Apologies. I assumed you would scroll down to see the NSFW alphabet and see the note I left saying the limit of the alphabet is three letters. It can be random or in order. I’ll do the first three (A, B, and C) for you!

SPOILERS TO ANYONE WHO HAS NOT SEEN HALLOWEEN ENDS!

Bear with me here, folks. I only know bits and pieces about Corey from what I can recollect from watching the movie. Wasn’t expecting to feel for this deranged meow meow when I first saw him. I thought he was gonna die in the first part. But he seems sweet. xD

This takes place after he meets Michael.

WARNING: The usual NSFW stuff, angst, fluff (maybe?), implied bullying/abuse, semen...stuff (not really-ish).

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

A = Aftercare

After climaxing, Corey leans his forehead against yours, catching his breath, both your hands intertwined. Once he calms down from his high, he lowers his head to your neck, shuffling himself into a position where he’s spooning you. His arm coiled around your waist as his face still buried against your neck.

Something’s wrong. 

You knew something was wrong the minute you opened the door to meet Corey’s dark puppy eyes and his chapped lips crashing into yours. Pushing you further into the house as he harshly slams the door shut behind him. Even during sex, you noticed his eyes shut tight, not daring to look, and only focused on stretching you out. His thrusts were so rough. Not that it hurts or you hate it – God, it always makes you see stars when he fucks you like that– it’s just...he usually behaves like this whenever he’s having a bad day. And it must’ve been a really bad one too, since Corey didn’t do the goofy little smile he always does afterward. You leer blankly at nothing, feeling cum drip out of you. He isn’t the best at cleaning up after himself – actually he never does. When his arm around you is no longer tense, you place a hand on it, slowly raising it to get out of his grasp and turn to face him. You first notice his shoulders tense up slightly, the various patches of faded bruises on his chest from the beatings he gets from those asshole teens or people around Haddonfield, his breathing was shallow as if he wasn’t breathing at all, and, finally, his eyes. There was something odd about the way he looked, making your blood run cold. Corey wasn’t gazing at you with his brown eyes but more like staring into you. Or maybe at his reflection – at the monster, everyone distastes besides you and the town's survival girls. You asked what was wrong, resting your hand on his face, but didn’t get a response from him. You could've asked about today and how it was, but it was clear you knew the answer, so the only thing you murmured was I missed you today. Earning a long, tired sigh to escape his mouth, muttering, “I miss you too,” before placing his hand on yours, leaning into your touch. You smile softly, moving closer to plant a kiss on his forehead and pull him into a loving embrace. You quickly fall asleep while Corey stays wide awake, staring at the window and sensing someone’s outside, standing – watching – waiting.

B = Bodypart

Corey likes to bury his face anywhere – your neck, your chest, between your leg– cause he knows those are some of the places where you are most sensitive, and Corey does love to leave some marks behind. He also likes the feeling of your arms holding onto him while your making out or holding onto dear life as he pounds into you; you clawing his back and leaving scratch marks arouses him.

C = Cum (Oh boi, cum xD)

Not much to say about this. Corey can cum a decent amount of load; howeverrr, it varies what he does with it. If Corey was his sweet four-eyed self, he would be precumming his pants at the sight of you and being a nervous wreck, blushing whenever you look his way – even though you’re his partner. He would use a condom and let you know when he’s cumming, disposing of the rubber afterward, and that’s the end of it. 

BUT, if he was his bad-boy self, he’ll get a bit risky not putting a condom on, wanting to feel you raw and squeeze around his dick so good, grunting out praises as he quickens his pace. Once his thrusts become frantic, he pulls out and jerks himself off until he releases his load on you.

===

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this cheesy writing, let me know what you think! Don't hesitate to ask me anything! Hope you all have a good day!

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #corey cunningham x reader

[public-trans-it]

Figured I would make a post of all my various FFXIV OC's.

Warning: There are more than just these 4, those are just the big ones. Also, this is like 5 years' worth of weekly RP with my FC, and we very much leaned into the absurd over-the-top fantasy of the FF series. So, like... boy HOWDY is this gonna be a lot. Edit after finishing writing this draft: it was far more than I thought oh my god I forgot how bullshit all of this was. However I added a clear indicator of where you can skip the most bullshit parts.

(All infoblocks are how the character would describe themselves. Summaries are (mostly) my own words, unless I think its really funny to not do so.)

Read More

I also have redacted a lot of info about other people's characters cause I'm not entirely comfortable sharing all of them here. So the names of other characters, and also my FC's name, are entirely removed. I've also tweaked some of the details slightly, mostly just the timing of certain events, and combining/removing a couple of the T'alia's (yes there used to be more). Also spoilers for a few bits of MSQ, but does include things up to the end of Endwalker.

If you don't want what is basically a summary of a four year long RP campaign, you can get the short version by just reading the entries for the four characters listed above.

Name: T'sraetn Slein Race: Miqo'te/Garlean (Mixed race) Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis(ish) Woman (She/Her)

T'sraetn was born in the capital city of Garlemald, child of a garlean scientist, Varrick lux Slein, and a miqo'te conscript-engineer, T'alia Raio. Her father was researching the Echo, trying to find ways to replicate its effects with a garlean soul. When the Garlond Ironworks rebelled and fled for Eorzea, T'sraetn's family fled with them, though Varrick was killed in the process, his research stolen by his former boss, Aulus mal Asina.

T'sraetn became fascinated by all forms of magic in Eorzea, following the paths of the Arcanist before branching out to other fields. She continued to find stronger and stronger opponents to test her magical prowess against, eventually awakening to the Echo and being recruited to the Scions.

The events of 1.0 through Stormblood happen relatively the same as they do in the game, though T'sraetn went missing after the battle with Shinryu. She reappeared once again after the events of Shadowbringers 5.3 (sort of, see below), now sporting several cybernetic augments throughout her body, with all of her limbs being fully cybernetic.

She initially had no issues with her augments, barring a few exceptions. However, after the events of Endwalker, she grew to hate them. She believed these augments were the only thing that allowed her to survive her fight against Zenos and that he should have been the one to walk away from their final confrontation. She eventually underwent a dangerous procedure to remove her augments and replace her limbs with vat-grown cloned organic transplants.

T'sraetns version of the Echo manifests it in a bizarre temporal distortion. Time feels as if it passes differently for her, with her experiencing weeks or months in the span of time that others claim to only experience days. In combat, she experiences her own death over and over again until, eventually, she survives the fight. The way that Zenos and Fordola experience their Resonance makes her feel a kinship with them in this regard, and has lead to her developing an unhealthy obsession with both of them.

T'sraetn has grown disillusioned with the life of adventure, and now spend much of her time drinking and reliving her fight with Zenos, hoping at some point she will discover her life since that point was just a very long vision, and if she just did something different in the fight, they would both have survived.

The rare times she is sober, she spends studying the primal Alexander, as well as the remains of the Tycoon in the depths of the Crystal Tower on the First, hoping to someday unlock the secret of how G'raha managed to change the past, while she continues to fail.

She funds these expeditions by selling her services to the goblins of the Wolves Den, helping them refine and test their designs for human pilots.

(Here she is, Ms. Warrior of Light herself. I do find it hilarious that 'Mech Pilot' is a lore friendly profession to have, so I had to go for it. I technically have two versions of T'sraetn! (Well... 3) One is the version I used in my Free Company's weekly roleplay for about 4 years, who is not actually the Warrior of Light, and the other is, in fact, the Warrior of Light herself. However, everything canon to the FC version is more or less canon to the WoL version. We won't be getting into the third version on a SFW blog. The bit about her dad was written back in Heavensward. Needless to say, I was absolutely DELIGHTED once Stormblood was released, and a large chunk of the plot focused on exactly that.)

Name: Killer Kweh Race: Unknown Clan: Unknown Gender: Unknown (They/Them)

Killer Kweh is a vigilante who began to harass T'sraetn's FC around the events of late Shadowbringers, keeping tabs on the various villains and scoundrels that the FC let slip away, thinking the power of friendship would be enough to save the day. Together with their chocobo, Wark Warrior, the two would track down and kill those the FC had spared. They eventually began to confront the FC, trying to pressure them into no longer forgiving those who wronged them.

Their identity remains a mystery to this day, and will likely never be discovered, no matter how often the other FC members says things like "T'sraetn the mask doesn't even cover all your hair, and we can clearly still see your tail." or "Can you hide your chocobo's costume somewhere else? We need to clean the stables."

(I kept this glam and now use it for PLD/RDM. Originally I was actually planning to have Killer Kweh be an entirely different character, but the FC kept making jokes about the tail showing, and I decided to roll with it cause having it just be T'sraetn the whole time was FAR funnier tbh, and we needed something light hearted at the time.)

If you don't want to read a whole boatload of FC lore, you should skip all of this. (Scroll down until you see the quest complete)

Name: T'alia Raio Race: Miqo'te Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

The first of the many, many, MANY faces of T'alia, who served as one of the central antagonists for much of the FC's life.

As mentioned above, T'alia was an engineer working in Garlemald before her family attempted to flee alongside the Garlond Ironworks, her husband being killed in the process. Wrought with guilt over his death, T'alia vowed to attempt to continue his research once they arrived in Eorzea, studying the soul and how various things could affect it.

Where her husband turned to the Echo, T'alia instead turned to the void, and to the tempering effect of primals. She made a pact with a voidsent, offering it not her own soul, but the soul of her research subjects, in return for studying its effects on them.

She eventually joined a Free Company, finding them to be perfect test subjects and developing an obsession with helping them grow stronger. She carefully examined and documented the effects on them and their aether after various fights with primals and voidsent, all under the guise of helping them grow stronger.

The idea of the FC needing to grow stronger became more and more compulsive, culminating in her trying to graft the soul of her voidsent into the aether of an injured FC member, an act which was the last straw and resulted in the FC turning on her.

She harbored no ill will against the adventurers, and continued her experiments from a distance, using facilities within abandoned garlean bases to construct various monsters for the free company to "train" against, frequently against their will.

(The FC I was with from 1.0 up to Stormblood Launch had a lot of drama. I originally made T'alia as a way to shop around and play with other FC's. When I joined my current FC, they mentioned not having any real dedicated antagonist for their RPs, and so I decided before the first RP I joined that T'alia was eventually going to make a heel turn, and played her as friendly but also very clearly having an ulterior motive. Also T'alia is still my MCH glam!)

Name: T'alia Raio Kime Race: Disembodied Soul Chimera Clan: Specter Yeah :) Gender: Monster (It/She/He)

T'alia's research into metempsychosis culminated in the preservation of her soul, at the cost of the willing destruction of her own body, obtaining a state not unlike those of the Ascians. She began growing multitudes of clones of herself, experimenting on them, merging them with beast men, and creating terrifying new chimerical bodies with which she continued to 'test the potential' of the FC.

However, these bodies and her soul mixed like water and oil, and she was never able to fully utilize them. While each one was quite powerful on its own, under her control they were exceedingly frail, and she would find her soul being ejected from them long before the point the body itself failed. This eventually forced her to turn back to her original field of engineering, augmenting these bodies with cybernetic enhancements.

Eventually, she invited the FC to one of her most ambitions plans to date, which she referred to as "The Merger", a combination wedding ceremony and business merger between both herself, and another rival of the FC's who also was heavily proficient in the field of engineering. This event was, in truth, an experiment where she splintered the timeline and merged it together again. During one timeline, an FC member was killed and replaced with a cybernetic replica crafted by T'alia and her new wife, while in the other timeline the FC member lived on as normal.

T'alia's plans for all of this were seemingly lost when her corpse was discovered in some ruins, impaled by a chunk of white auracite that kept her from escaping the vessel she was inhabiting. This drove her wife deeper into despair, and the widow blamed the FC for allowing this to happen, becoming a far bigger threat to them in the process.

(It was a running joke in our RPs that T'alia would keep getting called an Ascian, only to respond, "I still don't know what that is..." While she did achieve a similar form, it was elusively through her own research, and she never had any affiliation with the Ascians/Ancients)

Name: Tali Race: Various Clan: Various Gender: Nonbinary (She/Her)

Shortly after T'alia's death, one of her augmented clones began interacting with the FC. She revealed she was the one who killed the 'real' T'alia, an action she had no choice in taking. Several of this clones augments allowed T'alia to control her remotely, and she had taken control of her body to kill herself. These augments still remained in place, and even with no one controlling them now, they still prevented certain actions, such as revealing what T'alia was planning.

This T'alia clone continued to work alongside the FC, eventually being welcomed with open arms as a full fledged member, with the FC renaming her 'Tali' to differentiate her from her creator.

While Tali already differed significantly from her creator, she felt a deep unease about being compared to her. She took up the gunblade and began to dabble in various shape changing magics in order to further differentiate herself from T'alia, resulting in frequent damage to her body and need for replacements of her various artificial limbs. All the while, unfamiliar memories began to surface in her mind, revealing that the memories of T'alia's own past that she had planted in Tali weren't sticking.

While she was unable to reveal T'alia's plans to the FC, she was more than able to be reckless about leaving around too many maps about where T'alia's various facilities were located, leading the FC on missions to shut them down and uncover more details about T'alia's plans, with Tali quickly piecing the details together and becoming both more distressed and more frantic to get the FC to uncover the rest.

Over the course of these expeditions the FC found T'alia's main base: a facility located in a rift in spacetime filled with a massive number of clones. Thousands of clones of T'alia, as well as hundreds of clones of every single FC member.

This facility housed enough clues for the FC to realize two things: first, that T'alia was being coerced into her actions by some other entity that she had been plotting against, and second, Tali's differences to T'alia came not from her augmentations, but from the the fact that she was never a clone of T'alia at all, but her own daughter T'sraetn, augmented and brainwashed into becoming a pawn for T'alia to use.

(Yes the DPS symbol on the blue background is intentional. It's a joke about me always off-tanking at the time, and being a 'Blue DPS'. The name Tali was actually a typo from an FC member addressing her, but everyone immediately realized it would be a great way to differentiate this other version of T'alia, and so we kept it. Also, we had a running joke in our RP's that Tali's arms just fell right off about once per RP night.)

Name: T'alia Allengray Race: Miqo'te Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Pouring over T'alia's research notes, T'sraetn and the FC eventually found the source of what T'alia had been pushing them all towards, the entity that had plagued her for her entire life: T'alia.

This other T'alia eventually made her presence known by possessing a shape changing quicksilver construct that the FC had defeated, forming a new body for herself. Taking the old T'alia's role as antagonist (though never posing anywhere near as much a direct threat), she was happy to monologue to the FC, and even gave them a linkpearl to answer any questions they might have.

This other T'alia (who the FC simply refered to by her surname, Allengray) was a copy of herself from a different timeline, who had trapped herself in a perpetual timeloop that lasted from the moment of her birth, to the moment of her death. Her original self became nothing more than a disembodied specter within the loop, forced to observe the same events play out over and over again. Over the course of the more than 5 million years she spent trapped in the loop, she slowly gained the ability to subtly influence the members of her FC, with a far bigger influence on each loops iteration of herself.

In her original timeline, Allengray and the FC had fought a devastatingly powerful primal, Lich. As they began to realize their conventional methods of killing primals would not affect it, they eventually chose to build a temporal cage, crafted from the remains of Alexander. The device would contain one aetheric being, and one mortal being, binding the two together. Lich would be trapped within it, and bound to the lifespan of whoever activated the device. While Allengray was not the one selected to bear that burden, she stole the device in the dead of night and sacrificed herself to it, rather than watch any of her friends suffer. Instead, she was left to be tortured for millions of years, watching Lich kill her friends over and over again while she could do little more than watch, and whisper to each version of herself to beg them to find a way to stop it.

(Another kept glam! Allengray is my BLU glam. I actually introduced her as a palette swapped version of another FC members 'Monster of the Week', which was the quicksilver construct that Allengray possessed. She was a bit of an amnesiac trickster for a bit, as her soul adjusted to her new body.)

Name: T'alia Allengray Lich Race: Primal Clan: Aetheric Parasite Gender: Primal (It/Its)

Eventually, Allengray revealed Lich's true nature. Unlike other primals, Lich did not exist as a body. It was more of a parasite that existed in the lifestream, devouring the souls of those who died, which is why it had been so difficult to find a way to stop. And over the course of hundreds of loops, it had grown and adapted to exist within a person's aether, feeding off of them.

Specifically, that of Allengray, where it had latched itself into and fully consumed her. While the timeloop was still connected to the lifespan of each timeline's T'alia, Lich was free to wreck whatever havoc it wanted on the FC, manipulating the timeline to ensure they would suffer over and over again to amuse itself. Even if they found a way to kill it, which the FC occasionally managed to do, the timeline would still be reset on its death, meaning the most the FC would ever be able to do to it is doom another timeline to be the victim of its wrath.

Moreover, with this timelines T'alia now trapped in white auracite, she could never truly die, allowing Lich to remain in this timeline indefinitely.

This timelines T'alia (which is T'alia Raio, in case you lost track. Very understandble if you did.) still managed to get the last laugh. Through their various interactions, the FC of this timeline had become a force of abominations. Fractured primals, artificial constructs, temporal anomalies, and voidtouched avatars, all untouchable by Lich. A fierce battle ensued, Lich toying with FC with the knowledge that killing it wouldn't stop it, even as it clearly grew frustrated.

In the final moment of the battle, the FC revealed their ace in the hole, one of their enemies who had a far bigger grudge against Lich than anyone in the FC. The wife of this timelines T'alia, holding a recreation of the device that trapped Lich and Allengray in the timeloop in one hand, and the white auracite that held her wifes soul in the other. Binding the device to herself and her wife, the two became banished from this timeline to spend eternity with one another, replacing Lich and Allengray in the loop.

Lich did not have time to make its feelings on this development known, as the FC shredded it apart and destroyed it for good.

(I've always fucking loved the concept behind Lich, because in case it wasn't clear by now, I am ABSOLUTELY FASCINATED by death and how we relate to it, and wish Lich had a bigger role in Final Fantasy (I love you Stranger of Paradise). In XIV in particular I felt it had so much potential as a primal. Plus "Killing the embodiment of death itself" is such a final fantasy ass final boss. We did later get something like that in Endwalker, but I'm still very happy with my take on it.)

(Additional fun fact: this timeline is the 72,323nd loop that Lich and Allengray were trapped in. Since I'm going with a dumb quest formatting for this, I'll say first person to correctly guess why I chose that number gets... idk... a trust banner of their character and/or a wallpaper made of them? This post contains all the information an FFXIV player would need to guess why I chose that number.)

Name: Noraliene Haillenarte Race: Elezen Clan: Wildwood Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Despite all appearances, Noraliene is an elezen born to House Haillenarte in Ishgard. A member of House Dzemael dosed her drink with a fantasia during a banquet, and when she awoke the next morning as an Au Ra, she found herself the target of a horrible campaign to undermine House Haillenarte by claiming they are heretics, as well as an attempt to use her as "proof" that Au Ra are companions to dragons and must be purged from the city.

She was exiled by her family and escaped the city the next day, being pursued by several members of the Ishgardian Church seeking to kill her for her supposed heresy. Cold and exhausted, she eventually collapsed in the snow, where she claims she froze to death before being resurrected. In truth, she was rescued before that point by Ysayle, and her blue skin is a result of being tempered by Shiva.

After Ysayle's death, Noraliene took her place and helped lead her followers in reintegrating into Ishgard. She had no desire to return to the place of so many bad memories, however, and decided to join up with T'alia's FC shortly after T'alia revealed her true colors, granting them her aid as the new avatar of Shiva.

Despite her tragic past and icy aesthetic, she actually has a very warm and bubbly personality, eager to share her love of Doman Romance novels with anyone who will listen, and excitedly prying into the love life of anyone who was willing to share. She eventually grew tired of the constant stress and drama of being an adventurer and married another Ishgardian exile, choosing to move far away from Eorzea with her new wife.

(Did I make this character just as an excuse to spam the Diamond Dust emote during RP nights? You can't prove that. She was actually made so that I could join the RP easier when other people wanted to host an RP, instead of trying to bullshit together another reason why the FC was just willing to team up with T'alia again. The Diamond Dust spam was just a bonus. I also have a 26 page screenshot comic about her origin story that I've written out, and just need to actually take the screenshots for, but EFFORT...)

Name: Muddied Glory Race: Au Ra Clan: Raen/Xaela (Mixed race) Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Muddied Glory is the orphan daughter of a Raen and a Xaela who were both killed touring Eorzea while she was just an infant. She was placed into the foster care of a Hellsguard woman, who gave her the name she has now.

At a very young age, Glory was adopted by the Church of Halone, where she became a devoted follower of their doctrine. As she grew, she would eventually find herself blessed by Halone with visions into the lives of those she would grant absolution (Its just the Echo), and very rarely, she will wake up in the morning with no memory of the previous night, the events of her own life falling away so her memory could instead be filled with the knowledge of a killer who must be brought to justice, delivered to her through the eyes of their victim.

Her conviction of faith is never stronger than when she faces on these killers, and from the moment they lock eyes with her, before even a single word is said, they are filled with the terrifying knowledge that she is there to bring them to justice. (This is the usual reaction people have when the woman they killed last night shows up in front of them.)

(Glory is me going "Hey remember that one Sahagin Priest in MSQ? Where we learned what a fully realized Echo was capable of? Yeah we need more of that", with the additional silliness of the character in question having no idea it's happening to her. Once again, I was very excited when Zenos exhibited the same ability, and then again with the In From The Cold solo duty in Endwalker.)

Name: Ifrit's Bride Race: Tempered Clan: Thrall Gender: Seemingly Trans Woman (It/She)

While there has not been a cure until very recently, being tempered has never been a 'one and done' affair. A primal is fully capable of tempering a single person multiple times, corrupting them far beyond the point of recognizability, as seen most commonly in Leviathan's drowned.

Ifrit's Bride is an example of that. It is unknown what rank or purpose she served among the followers of Ifrit, only that it was far more aetherially corrupted than was the norm for the followers of Ifrit.

After plaguing them for years, she was eventually captured by the Brotherhood of Ash where they worked with the immortal flames and the new anti-tempering magics lent to them to attempt to see if the process could be combined with the Brotherhood's Sacred Ash.

(Technically, she wasn't given the name Tempered Lass until after she was cured, so I should have used a different name for the trust banner. But also fuck making another one, I'm almost done with this post. Also I can't do tribal dailies on this character anymore, because I refuse to complete 'Losing One's Tempered' so that I can always keep some Sacred Ash on hand.)

Name: Tempered Lass Race: "Prefer not to disclose" Clan: "Prefer not to disclose" Gender: So Fucking Much (She/It)

The result was... mixed. While they managed to cure the Bride of Ifrit of her tempering, she had no memory of anything prior to the point of being cured, and her body remained warped.

She was given into the care of a Hellsguard woman who gave her a very... on the nose name, and there it was discovered that without regular treatments of the Brotherhood's Sacred Ash, she would once again begin hearing the whispers of Ifrit compelling her. She is also particularly gullible, but it is unclear if that is a result of the process that cured her, or simply a natural character trait for her.

While the Brotherhood of Ash welcomes her with open arms and is happy to provide her with Sacred Ash at no cost, Temmie prefers to try to live in Ul'dah. She is frequently found among the refugees, helping them for far too little coin for what she needs to sustain herself.

(The reason she can't remember anything is cause there is nothing to remember. Despite appearances, Temmie is not an Au Ra, she is a Miqo'te. Specifically, Temmie is a clone of T'sraetn created by T'alia to test the effects of tempering. Also, if it wasn't clear, her and Muddied Glory are foster sisters.)

Name: Gyococo Gyoco Race: Namazu Lalafell Clan: Namazu Dunesfolk Gender: "Depends on how much you are paying." (She/Him)

Gyococo is a lalafell adopted and raised by namazu. Once the Far East started becoming a more popular tourist destination for Eorzeans, she began seeing more and more lalafells, eventually growing curious enough to wish to visit and explore the land her real parents hailed from. At least, that's what he told people.

In truth, Gyococo cared little for pursuing his ancestral culture and just saw what she assumed would be an ignorant and unassuming market she could swindle as a merchant. What she found when she arrived in Ul'dah, however, was a society of cut throats and swindlers worse than any namazu could ever hope to achieve.

After months of barely scraping by, he eventually turned over a new leaf. She befriended an illiterate playwright and now acts as her scribe and editor. While he is far from the rich woman he was hoping to become, she lives comfortably and is happy with where her life is at.

(I don't touch Gyococo much, mostly because the playerbase is really fucking weird about lalafells and really fucking weird about trans women, and the overlap is... not fun, honestly.)

Name: Gaeli Cat Race: Gaelicat Clan: Gaelicat Gender: Gaelicat

Gaelicat.

(Gaelicat.)

#FFXIV #ffxiv wol #ffxiv rp #People are gonna see this and then give me a sideways glance and go 'So uh... hows your relationship with your mom Ceetee?' #to which I reply 'My mother is the coolest person I know and also I am never speaking to her again after all the pain she has caused me' #'and also I'm fairly sure she was starting to suffer from dementia and beginning to lose her own identity to it.' #but I don't see how any of that is relevant to my FFXIV OC's #why do you ask?

[alaffy]

Riverdale 7x20 - Goodbye, Riverdale (Spoilers)

Jesus, this was depressing. After seven years, Riverdale comes to an end. And I can absolutely guarantee that nobody ever expected it to end like this. That being said, while this is not the ending I would have chosen, I also can't say I dislike this ending. We watched these character going through year after year of hell and the fact that most of them have a good life and there is a happy-ish ending to this...well, I'm content with it. Riverdale, for me, probably will be the first four seasons, but I don't hate this ending.

Anyway, we start with an Eight Six year old Betty who's learned Jughead has passed away. Betty is now the last of the gang to survive. Betty wants to visit Riverdale one last time and her granddaughter promises to take her there the next day. That night Betty is visited by Angel/Writer Jughead who takes her back to the last day of high school so she can see her friends one last time. During these moments we find out what happened to all of the characters. And I'm just going to go through this real quick.

Ms. Andrews will fall in love with a woman who will live in the with Ms. Andrews until she passes away. Polly will end up having her twins (Juniper and Dagwood). Alice will eventually divorce Hal (I think, my cable screwed up and I missed part of this), become a flight attendant, and marry someone else.

During junior year of high school, Fangs records a hit single and is able to convince Midge's parents to let him marry her. Their happiness is short lived as, not long after high school, Fangs goes out on tour and is killed in a bus accident. Midge and her daughter will live off the royalties of Fang's two songs (right).

Pop's apparently dies before the kids graduate high school. That's the grave Betty is visiting. The writers clearly are choosing violence here.

Clay and Kevin move to Harlem together. Clay becomes a professor at Columbia (I think) and Kevin opens his own off Broadway production. Kevin will die of old age in his sleep and Clay will pass away a few weeks later sitting on a park bench.

Cheryl and Toni move west and live a more bohemian life. They have a son named Dale (after Riverdale). They will live a long and happy life together.

Reggie will go on to play basketball for the Lakers and then become the coach at Riverdale High. He has two sons who will run the Mantle used car lot. Reggie was buried in Duck Creek.

As for the core four, well they all decide during senior year to all just date each other. Yup. Well, maybe, as we never see anything happen between Archie and Jughead. After high school....

Veronica moves back to LA and becomes a big movie mogul. I don't think it's directly said, but it seems like she was the first of the four to go. I does seem like Betty, at least, looses touch with her over time.

I'm not going to go into the last Barchie scene. While I didn't particularly like that couple, what the writers did in that scene was nothing short of sadistic to those fans. But one could argue that same was done to Bughead and Varchie fans in season four. Anyway, Archie will go out west and find a woman that he decides to settle down with. He lives a long, good life with her and, when he dies, he's buried next to his father.

Jughead will create Jughead's Madhouse Magazine (Mad Magazine) and had a successful life as a writer/editor. He never marries.

Betty also creates her own magazine. (And late '60s/early '70s Betty's look is my favorite Betty look). Betty never married, but she did adopt a daughter. Which she considers her legacy, her family.

Anyway, Angel/Writer Jughead takes Betty back to the present. The next day, Betty's granddaughter takes her to Riverdale. As they pull into Pop's parking lot, the building is for sale, she discovers Betty has died.

But then young Betty steps out of a car as she has been transported to an functioning Pop's Restaurant. Jason is at the door (yep, the actor is back). And everyone is there (well, of the cast that still worked on the show). And as the story ends, Betty joins the other three at the table and in the Hereafter.

Like I said, not the way I imaged the show would ever end. Not the way I would have ended it. Still, it was a very bitter sweet ending. I shed some tears and, yeah, part of me is sad to see it end.

Of course, that part of me will soon be knocked unconscious by my sanity....

#riverdale #riverdale spoilers #betty cooper #veronica lodge #jughead jones #archie andrews #cheryl blossom #toni topaz #kevin keller #fangs fogerty #clay walker

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tta episode 12

“Last time, on Total Takes Action: the four final players competed in an all-out western challenge… an all-outback western, that is! From kangaroo wrangling to outback cow herding to giant, man-eating spiders, this was the real-ish deal! Scruffy overcompensated for their failing love life, but it was Peter who saved the day, and a sick Scary who took the fall. Who will survive this episode? And who will be eaten? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Action!”

The final three stand in a line outside the craft services tent while Chris sits in a director’s chair in front of them, his legs crossed and his eyes studying them intently. 

It’s been some time now, as evident by the beads of sweat on O’s forehead and the twitchy movements Peter keeps making out of nervousness. Finally, the host clears his throat. 

“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re out here,”

“Yes!” All three say in unison. Chris chuckles. 

“Today is the penultimate challenge- three players enter, two players leave! And you dudes have a lot riding on this- one million dollars is nothing to brush off,”

“I don’t care about the money!” Scruffy pipes up. They look exhausted.

Chris rolls his eyes. “Much like yesterday, today’s challenge is inspired by another popular subgenre of western- the science fiction kind!”

“Running out of ideas?” O asks, crossing his arms. Chris glares and pulls out a futuristic looking taser gun, then stuns him. He falls to the ground with a thud. Peter and Scruffy stare. 

“That’s better. Anyway, today is going to be an all-out… LASER TAG EXTRAVAGANZA! That’s right, it’s every man and Scruffy for themselves on a souped-up race to the finish line. The first two players to reach that line secure themselves a spot in the finale- the last will go home. Across the set, there are various… um, roadblocks that will stop at nothing to tag you out with one of these babies,” Chris says, pulling a few large laser guns out of nowhere. He tosses one to each contestant- a neon green one for Scruffy, a white one for Peter, and an orange one that lands on the ground next to O. “Not to mention your fellow campers- if you get tagged out, you’ll be sent to our brand new…. Cactus Pit! For about fifteen minutes.”

“Cactus pit?!” Peter asks. 

“Yeah, we couldn’t think of another way to incorporate the western theme without importing more sand,” Chris chuckles. “Go meet Chef in the craft services tent to get geared up and meet me back out here in five!”

---

Scruffy straps a large, futuristic-looking chrome vest to their chest and slides on knee and elbow guards while Peter watches on from afar. O is just now recovering from the stun gun, though his legs are still partially frozen as he slides on the metallic shorts provided with the outfit. 

“You feelin’ alright, little guy?” O asks, fastening the vest buckles. “Need any help today?”

Peter turns back. “No, I’ll be okay. If I can survive a heart-to-heart with Scary, I can survive anything, right?” he chuckles to himself. “Thanks for the offer, though. Good luck!”

Peter jogs outside, leaving a slightly despondent O behind. 

---

O: “Well, I guess I’m not needed anymore. Good-bye, friendship!”

---

Scruffy whistles the show theme song under their breath while bouncing their gun in their hands. They seem… oddly relaxed. Confident, even. 

---

SCRUFFY: “I’ve been training for this all season- an obstacle course? Every man for himself? Dangerous threats along the way?! This is perfect- finally, a chance to prove myself,” they put on their safety goggles and then blow a kiss at the screen. “Wish me luck, Jules!”

---

Chris paces back and forth in front of the geared-up contestants, snacking on a Slim Jim very loudly and reading the paper. He turns. “Oh, right. We’re still doing this. Okay, gang, you ready?”

The campers look between each other, then nod. 

Chris pops in a pair of earbuds, then pulls out an air horn and blows it, forcing the final three to duck and cover their ears before they can actually start moving. 

“GO!”

Peter starts off first, jogging towards the city set as a heavy fog rolls in, misting the set and making everything but the fluorescent lights of the other players impossible to see. 

O follows Peter, looking around before colliding face-first into a brick wall. “Yeowch!”

A nearby clicking sound and a shower of white light greets O on his left side, and Peter emerges from the fog, holding up his gun. “Who goes there?”

“Woah, truce, truce!” O sets down his own weapon and puts up his hands. “I wanted to talk.”

The much shorter player lowers his gun and blinks. “About what?”

“I think we should stay in an alliance,” he says. His own orange getup casts a warm glow in the fog. “Scruffy has a super unfair advantage over both of us, and if we stick together, we might be able to make it to the final two! Wouldn’t you wanna be in the final two with me?”

Peter thinks for a moment. “Huh… yeah, I guess that’d be fun. Friends in the final two…”

“Right! Friends!”

He smiles and holds out a hand, which O gladly accepts. “Truce,”

“Truce!” O shakes it confidently. 

---

Scruffy stalks through the fog on the forested set, the fake trees casting a dark glow over them. They’re crouching, close to the ground, crawling between plastic ferns and foam rocks, somersaulting into hollow logs and watching the entire scene with suspicious eyes. Their tactic is clearly trained to perfection, so when a shadowy figure dashes behind them in the background, they’re already prepared. 

Scruffy whips around and fires his laser gun, and a cartoony “pew” sound effect lights up someone’s vest red. 

Chef sighs and walks out of the shadows, dressed as a StormTrooper in a laser tag vest. He grumbles. “This wasn’t in my contract,” and he walks off. Scruffy pumps their fist. 

---

O and Peter walk casually down the middle of the road on the western set, aiming at random cacti and tumbleweeds to practice shooting. 

O holds up his gun and fires at a moving cardboard road runner, the red laser dot directly on its side. It, of course, does nothing but light up the set piece for a brief moment. But Peter is impressed nonetheless. 

“Wow, you’ve got a good shot,” he says. 

O lowers the gun. “Thanks. Michela taught me how to aim,”

“Were you guys close? While she was here, I mean,”

“Uh, kinda. I thought so. But then Max came back and she didn’t need me around anymore, I served my purpose,”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you know. I did my job! And she got better, so she moved on, right?” O says, aiming the gun at a saloon sign. “That’s how this stuff works.”

“Friendships? I don’t think so,” Peter says. “They’re not… transactional. I mean, they can be, but like me and Scary- I would consider us friends now,” he pauses. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“You and Scary? What could you have to offer her?”

“My time, my care. My patience. And she helped me out too, in return, and even though she’s gone, we’re still friends-ish. Same with Al,” Peter continues. “Friendships shouldn’t end after you give them something. I had to learn that the hard way. I’m sure if you talked to Michela, she would still call herself your friend.”

“Huh,” O thinks. “Weird.”

A sudden rustling behind them makes both jump and aim their guns. But it’s only a squirrel, skittering across the set with a nut between its teeth. 

Peter turns to O again. “You don’t have to ally yourself with me because you think I’ll only want to if you’re useful. We can be ally-friends, too!”

O smiles and nods before a sudden whirring overhead catches both their attention. 

“Did you hear that?”

A fleet of flying saucers appears in the distance, laser beams gearing up as they approach the two. Peter and O look at each other, then scream and run in opposite directions. 

---

Scruffy hears the distant sound of screaming and pays it no mind. They chuckle to themselves. “Amateurs,” and press on, past the haunted mansion set, past the courtroom…

They re-enter a thickly wooded part of the set and scratch their head. “I was just here,” they think aloud. “I have not been walking in circles! My tracking skills are flawless!”

A sudden rustling in the foliage catches their attention and they aim their gun, but only Peter falls out of the bush. He groans and rubs his head. 

Scruffy grins and clicks his gun, ready to fire. 

“W-wait!” Peter begs. “Don’t!”

“Why not?”

“Cause… I know the way to the finish line!”

Scruffy lowers their gun for a moment and thinks. Then, they sigh, and put away their weapon, pulling Peter to his feet. “Fine. But as soon as we’re there, I’m shooting you,”

“Sounds good to me!”

---

O tiptoes through the maze, completely lost in its long halls. The sounds of distant barking are making him more nervous with each passing second. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he mumbles to himself. “Get a hold on yourself, Oliver. Breathe. Count to ten.”

He takes one deep breath, then another, before the barking picks up again and he loses count. “Dammit! Why isn’t this working?!”

The barking grows closer and he shakily holds up his weapon, backing himself into a corner. Before he has time to prepare himself, two coyotes jump out of the darkness. 

“Coyotes!” he shrieks. A red light emanates from something attached to their backs. “With guns!”

He screams as they fire at him, tagging him out. His vest glows red and he shrieks again as a trapdoor opens from under him, pulling him into the darkness. 

---

“That sounds like O,” Peter says, those distant shrieks echoing again. “We were supposed to be allies today… I should go help him-”

He starts off, but Scruffy grabs him by the back of his shirt and turns him forward. “Not so fast. If you run, I’ll shoot the sensor on your back. Think smarter,”

Peter grumbles to himself but they press on, eventually exiting the forest and re-entering the walk between the mansion and courthouse. 

“So, where is this magical finish line, anyway?” Scruffy asks. “If you and O were allied, he must know too, right? He could be there this very second.”

“He wouldn’t. He would wait for me. We’re friends,”

Scruffy laughs. “There are no ‘friends’ on Total Drama. Only allies, and alliances are thin. Breakable,” a serious expression crosses their face. “The second they sense weakness, they leave.”

Peter watches their expression cautiously. “Do you want to talk about something?”

“No. I’m fine,” they insist, speeding up. 

---

Chris watches O balance on one set of tippy toes and flail his arms around to avoid falling on any cacti in the glass holding cell he’d been chuted into. 

“Man, this is great,” Chris sighs, crossing his arms. After a few more seconds of amusing himself, he turns with an annoyed expression. “Where are my salmon and goat cheese crackers?!”

Chef walks up to Chris with a covered dish. 

“Finally! I swear, these interns are so busy on their phones they can’t even bother to wait on me hand-and-foot!” the host rolls his eyes, then holds out a hand to the plate. "Gimme gimme."

Chef smacks it away and pulls the lid off the dish, revealing nothing but a black landline. Chris sighs. “It’s not my job to answer phones around here,”

“You’re really gonna want to answer this one,” Chef says, his voice completely deadpan. 

Chris grumbles angrily to himself and picks up the phone. “Yello?” He takes a swig from a coffee-filled Thermos. 

A voice on the other end says something indistinct and Chris spits out a mouthful of piping hot coffee, just barely missing Chef. 

---

“And then she just- started dating him, I guess. Like I don’t even exist!” Scruffy throws out their arms for emphasis as the two pass the trailers. “Not a word to me!”

“Do you think she didn’t think you’d find out?”

“No, of course not. Jules knows that I’m a capable player, I hear about everything worth knowing. And this was definitely worth knowing. Why didn’t she tell me?” they pout. “She could’ve sent a letter!”

“Maybe she wants to tell you in person?” Peter asks nervously, watching Scruffy flail around their gun with every word. 

“No, she wouldn’t. The only logical explanation I can come up with is that… well… it’s more beneficial for her to be with him than stay friends with me,” Scruffy sighs. 

Peter furrows his brow. “There’s that talk again! What’s wrong with you people!” he says. “Relationships aren’t about what you can give, they’re about who you are. If Julia really cares about you, then what someone else can offer her shouldn’t matter.”

“But it obviously does,” they sigh. 

“It could be a million things,” he pats their shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve done my fair share of overthinking. I’ve been in so many transactional friendships, witnessed so many petty breakups, and I refuse to believe that that’s what’s happening. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”

“I know, but… I mean, she likes that I’m a good competitor. If I win, maybe…”

Peter sighs. “Do you really think staying in the competition will help?”

“It would help with a lot, really,”

Scruffy looks down and Peter sighs, pulling the picture of his girlfriend from his pocket. “I guess I understand. We have to do hard things for love, too,”

Just as they round the corner of the trailers, a click sounds from behind them and they both turn, then freeze in place. 

O, covered in cactus spikes, aims his gun right at Scruffy’s chest. 

“Game over,” he says, his forefinger pressing on the trigger. 

“No!” Peter shouts- but it’s too late. 

O pulls the trigger, and the mist rolls over set once again. A “pew” sound, and the “schwoop” of a hit target rings out. 

But as the fog clears, Scruffy is still green, and the red glow of a hit soldier is coming from the ground. 

Peter, his girlfriend’s picture clutched in his hand, lies. O gasps, then drops to his knees. “NOOOOOOOO!”

Scruffy holds up their gun, aiming at O as he grieves, but then shakes their head and simply flees into the brush. 

O holds Peter’s head in his lap and pants. The former’s glasses are cracked, and there’s a spider crawling over his cheek (which O quickly sweeps off). 

“Peter, I’m so sorry, my aim- I thought my aim was perfect-”

“It is. I jumped. I had to let Scruffy get away,” Peter says. “They have to win. I don't… My life is already pretty sweet. I don’t need the money.”

“You sacrificed yourself… for them?” he makes a disgusted face.

“They need this. I’m already pretty set,” he holds up the picture of his girlfriend. “I could’ve won, but I chose not to. Because some things in life are more important than transactions.”

A chute opens up beneath Peter and sucks him in, sending him to the cactus pit. O hangs his head. 

The opening in the grass closes over and O takes a moment to breathe before he stands, now more determined than ever, and begins running. 

---

Chris’ director’s chair is empty as Peter falls into the glass cactus tank at the end of the set, the finish line mere meters away. 

Scruffy comes barreling in first, crossing the checkers and panting. 

“Yes- yes! Final two!” they turn. “Chris?”

The set is empty. Chris and Chef are nowhere to be found. Panic crosses Scruffy’s face. “CHRIS?! I NEED SOMEONE TO VALIDATE MY WINNING!”

Peter taps on the glass of the container and winces as he’s poked. “I’m here,”

Scruffy turns. “Oh,”

O comes jogging after, crossing the finish line. He collapses to the floor shortly afterwards, his gun skidding across the pavement. 

The intercom crackles to life. “Woo okay, final two. Scruffy and O,” then disappears. 

“What’s he up to?” Scruffy wonders aloud, O and Peter both making pained groans in the background. 

---

Peter disappears in the Lame-o-Sine, both Scruffy and O waving as the black car disappears into the city. 

“Good guy,” Scruffy comments. 

O glares. “The best,”

The two walk back to the trailers, avoiding looking at each other until they’re at each individual door. Scruffy pauses, their hand on the doorknob. “What do you think Chris is doing?”

“Something bad and mean, probably,”

“No, I mean… he didn’t even show up for the elimination ceremony, and he loves gloating. Something’s going on,” Scruffy says, rubbing their chin. “Maybe Scary was right…”

O massages his temples. “Good night, Scruffy,”

And without another word, he walks into his trailer and slams the door behind him.

#tta #total takes action

[teecupangel]

Any idea's on a plot where Desmond, Altair, Ezio, and Connor all end up in 'Ark Survival Evolved'? How well would they survive? Would they tame any dino's? Which one's? Will there be romantic relationships? Where would they live? (Feel free to ignore if you don't know anything about ark)

For those unfamiliar with Ark Survival Evolved, the idea is you spawn on the Island populated by dinosaurs and other creatures. For this case, I will only be focusing on the base game and not include any DLCs in this answer. (Although I am very tempted to include Fjordhawk just because of the ‘eagle’ motif… even if it’s meant to be a hawk)

Let’s set it up first.

Our plot will start with all four of them waking up on the Island with no idea how they got there. Every single one of them remembers their life up to the day they die and we’ll be kind and have their body be in their mid-20s (to be more exact, their 25-year-old body, the age Desmond dies) with their Assassin robes (or white hoodie and jeans on Desmond’s case) but no gear but their hidden blade. (but only 1 hidden blade, even Ezio AND no hidden gun as well)

… Or we could totally let them get there naked with nothing, not even a hidden blade, sure.

Now, in this scenario, they would have enough experience to know they’re better off together than doing everything on their own.

They start exploring the island and “holy fucking shit there are dinosaurs there, what the fuck, what do you mean you don’t know what dinosaurs are? Those are dinosaurs!”

So they try to find a safe(ish) place for Desmond to explain what he knows about dinosaurs and they take a break near a stream perhaps. One of them takes off their hidden blade and I would be leaning on this being Ezio because he wants to show his hidden blade to Altaïr to ask if it would be possible for him to recreate the hidden gun in this place when he realized that he has some kind of metallic-like gem with the telltale white glowing lines of an Isu artefact on his arm and everyone checks their left arm and finds they have the same thing.

They start poking around with Desmond being the one dumb enough to actually poke it directly and they find out that they can access an inventory through it, craft things, a screen that shows their level, and unlockable crafting recipes that are called engrams. From their own, it’s by trial and error that they find out that they gain level doing lots of different things.

Their main immediate concern now is to create a shelter before night falls.

From there… well, they’ll definitely try to find out where the hell they were and what were they there in the first place.

PLOT POINTS:

They will definitely die. Multiple times. And just to fuck with them even more, any time one of them dies, everybody dies. No exception. XD Oh! And when they spawn, they have to get back their stuff from their corpses which is always unpleasant and they always spawn on their current ‘base’ as if the metal jewel in their arm knows where to spawn them even if they changed base.

Their engram is a bit different as it seemed to be a strange list of what technology they all know from their time period with the last engrams they can unlock being more in-line with Isu tech. Desmond’s time period’s tech is the second to the last engrams they can unlock.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is their primary hunter and he will teach everyone what he knows. Even some tricks he later learns, long after Desmond stopped watching his memories. When they’re finally setting up their primary base, he’s the one who set up their dino-defenses.

Altaïr is more or less in charge of the forging and crafting of really complicated things. He focused on things that could help them first like weapons and things that would fortify their base.

Ezio is more of the tamer. He’s the one who likes to tame dinosaurs and, dear god, he managed to create a farm of all things. It’s… honestly impressive. He was vetoed from making a vineyard though.

Desmond bounces to whoever needs him most. He mostly acts as their assistant and sometimes, especially in Altaïr’s case, he reminds them that they need to take a break.

All of them had a hand in planning their base but Altaïr and Ratonhnhaké:ton are more on the utility and defenses while Ezio likes to add things just to make it ‘pleasing to the eye’. Desmond usually gets the final vote for some reason even when Altaïr and Ratonhnhaké:ton teaming up should mean that it’s 2 against 1.

Sure, there’s a plot. But let’s be honest… most of us play this kind of games to make bases and ride dinosaurs. If there’s a plot, it will be summarized as either “Isu Bullshit” OR “Abstergo/Rebecca fucked up and created a virtual world for Sample 17’s data”. Take your pick.

Location of their Base:

Ngl, I wanna give them a raft base because that’s one of the safest (sorta) options in Ark Survival Evolved or maybe they can create their base in the Hidden Lake or Herbivore Island as those two are safe bets.

BUT I personally believe they’ll all think that a high vantage point will be their best bet and would go for mountainous areas they can fortify. Also, they would want to be near the center of the island.

Which leaves: The Red Peaks. It has a forest underneath the mountain where they could lose any predators chasing them, lessening the chance of them accidentally bringing a predator to their base.

The idea is that they will end up with a fortress on the top of the mountain similar to Masyaf with an irrigation system connected to the nearest water supply up north.

Altaïr is absolutely fascinated with the idea of electricity.

Dinosaurs:

There is one dinosaur that they will definitely tame: the Argy (Argentavis). They weren’t even planning on creating an aviary for them or even taming them. There were a lot of Argys in the Red Peak and it was either they tame them or they kill of them to secure the location. They decided to just tame them and hope for the best. They definitely lucked out as anyone who plays Ark will tell them that Argys are one of the best (debatable the best) dinosaurs to tame and have multiple specialized dinosaurs.

Desmond insists that they need a T-Rex. Unfortunately, they don’t know what a T-Rex looks like and Desmond isn’t really into dinosaurs so he made a mistake. They tamed a Carnotaurus named Rex.

They never let Desmond forget it and they gave him a T Rex as a gift. The name of Desmond's T Rex is Cars.

Ezio has a Dodo farm. Desmond is just happy they have eggs. Ezio keeps telling him not to name the dodos just in case they need emergency meat. Desmond still names them. In Desmond’s defense, he named them after Templars he knows. Ezio hates the Dodo named Cesare the most… because it gives the best eggs.

Ratonhnhaké:ton has a squad of Raptors that go hunting with him. No jokes are made about that dinosaur film with a similar premise because Desmond is dead before that movie was released.

Altaïr doesn’t really tame dinosaurs as he’s busy making new things for them to use. His idea of taking a break is checking the tamed dinosaurs on their base and sketching them, most of the time writing observations of their habits and appearance. Desmond suggested they get him a cat as a pet… the only cat they could find nearby was a Sabertooth. They still gave it to Altaïr anyway.

Romance:

… It’s me, nonny. If there’s gonna be any romance in this plot, you know it’s gonna be AltDes or an entire harem for Desmond. XD

#i said it before and i'll say it again #desmond miles is the ultimate isekai protagonist #i can put desmond anywhere #ngl im not good at this kind of games #but i still know enough to make this kind of outline lol #no usual tags because this can be #altdes #ezides #condes #or all of them! #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed