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minsyal · 2 years

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The Great Stone Knight, Pt. VII

Sandor Clegane x Reader

Warnings will remain vague and be for the work as a whole as opposed to each part individually: violence, death, assault, my shitty characterizations, explicit language, sexual content (will be noted), and having too good of a time reading this.

Masterlist

“Where are we now?”

No answer.

“Sandor?”

Still no answer.

Turning in his hold you sat sideways on Stranger, his horse, your legs now spreading out on a greater surface. The sunlight blinded you, its white rays peeked over the top of his head. His face held an amused expression, pleased that he was able to get a rise out of you. You frowned in response.

His chest rumbled deeply, sending warm and light vibrations through your side as he shared his regale intrigue with you. It had been a day since you fled from Kings Landing. He rode with a resolute fervor through the night, determined to put himself as far from the gates of the city as humanly possible. You only stopped twice: once to water the horse, and again to relieve yourselves. At dawn, you woke to the tepid embrace of the peaceful sun. He hadn't had a chance to rest his head since your departure. You were certain he had lived through many nights without proper sleep, but the darkened circles placed beneath his eyes and the pronounced irritation he expressed was making his tiredness apparent.

“Same damn road we’ve been on since we left.”

“Where are we going?”

“We?” He snorted and tightened the reins around his fists, ultimately caging your body closer to his. “We’ll head to Barrowton. I can get you on a boat set to cross the sea. Your king father can send me his thanks in gold.”

Your head swiveled to look forward, trying your best to make sense of your surroundings. But it was all unfamiliar, you had never been here before. “If you’d recall, my king father has insisted I stay in Westeros. He does not wish me back, and you cannot make me board a ship with a crew of heathens alone.”

“Heathens.” He snickered under his breath. “Is that not what I am?”

Absolutely not, the notion never even crossed your mind. He wasn’t. For other than the small prickle of his fingers against your arm many months ago, he had not hurt you. “No.” You said resolutely. Your time on ships had been surrounded by men one would describe as heathenous or uncivil. While they were violent and crass as he, he was not as barbaric and forcefully copulated as they.

“Then what?”

“A man who followed a household blindly.”

“A man?” He questioned, unwilling to think himself so. Stranger made a sharp turn down a well-trodden path toward the water of Blackwater Rush. Thus far, you had been traveling against the swift treachery that carried water from west to east. “I’m no man, same as I’m no Ser.” The racing river’s current could be heard as you passed by a line of trees. “I’m a dog, a Hound. Sooner you get that through that skull of yours, the better.”

“You use that line a lot.” You tilted your head from side to side as you popped the tension that gnawed at your bones. “Thick skull of mine. Perhaps, you’d have realized now it’s rather impenetrable.”

“That, or you’re just dull.”

JHe was determined to ride through the night until he was a day’s travel from the city. If it was up to him and if he had an unlimited amount of energy, he would have rode through every day and night until the name Lannister was said with hatred. He was fervently averse to stopping his steed as it trotted down the empty route. As you rode away, the city slowly faded from view behind rolling hills and a littering of trees that concealed all those who ventured within. Grasslands were in abundance, rivers coursed through the landscape, tearing at the eroding dirt of the winding waters. You were still in Baratheon territory, according to Sandor, who was unsure of where he wished to go.

He muttered something inwardly as he dismounted, hands landing on your waist as he expectantly waited for your hands to steady yourself on his shoulders. Lifting you as if you were pure air, he set you down gently on the ground. From your position by the riverside, a tree line a half of a league back separated you from the road you had been traveling on. “Should be safe here for a rest.”

After relieving himself beyond the trees he returned and filled a canteen with river water, drinking it as if he had just endured a drought. You rustled through your pack, withdrawing a rag and coating it in the cool liquid. By the time you had returned to his side, Sandor had found himself on the ground already, splayed out with his eyes closed. As you lifted the rag to his face, his hand caught your wrist in motion, stalling the movement.. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’ve yet to clean that blood from your face.” He yielded, his head landed on a patch of green grass, cushioning it from the cold dirt. “It needs tending to.” His forehead crinkled from the droplets of water that ran down his skin. The wetted rag turned brown as his face cleared.

Scents of peppermint and honey masked the viscous fatty aroma of grease that mixed together in an off-white concoction meant for healing. The small metal tin popped open with a loud suctioning click. It was slick and melted from the heat of your fingers, liquifying instantly. “If you would have left this any longer, it would have been infected.” He tensed as your fingers lightly traced down his scarred skin. “I simply cannot imagine the great Sandor Clegane succumbing to an illness. I think that wouldn’t be a fitting end.”

“A fitting end.” The scruff of his beard crackled beneath his fingernails as he scratched at his chin. “Then what?”

Rearing back, you wiped your hand down your already soiled dress. “It’s not my story to write.” The tin was tucked back into your pack, and your pack was now balled up and serving as a pillow at Sandor’s side. “Something more exciting than withering away. It’s all out of our hands now.”

“You’ve spent too much time with the pious fuckers, little lamb.” A bitter chuckle left his dried lips as his hands connected over his stomach. “Whoever’s writing my story is a dumb cunt.”

“Perhaps.” You rolled onto your side. The moonlight silhouetted the growing shadows of the trees above. The night was quiet. There was no sound of battle, no womanly chatter, and no murmur of city merchants yelling out desperately to sell their goods. The only sounds that cascaded down from the heavens tonight all came with a mellifluous chorus of the turning world. “We have a glorious journey ahead of us. Perhaps it’s time to write yourself a better ending.”

His eyelids were like the iron gates that held your chamber windows closed at the Red Keep. His lashes were tangled together, holding an impenetrable lock that would open for nobody. The warmth that radiated from your body was enriched by the sweet scent of mint and sugared honey that burned from his brow. A subtle intensity of your presence raged in the acuity of his quintessence.

Even once you descended into a deep slumber, he found himself wide awake. Though he was tired from the journey thus far, nothing in his being would allow himself to rest. Your everything charmed him in a way that no woman had ever done before. The brothel whores promiscuity, something he had partaken in in the past, suddenly disgusted him far greater than it had previously. Your breathing, serene and resplendent, held a certain melodic melody that differed from each woman he had shared a night with. Not that you were even close to sharing a night together. No, you were simply resting nearby.

When he was marched into battle, stoic and resolute in the atrocities that were about to be committed, he would have never expected for it to end this way. If someone were to tell him that he would become a fugitive, hunted by the king and his men, with a foreign princess in tow, he likely would have mumbled a cynical curse and been on his way. Yet, here they were lying together beneath the twinkling stars. A foreign beauty, had tended to his cuts and scrapes of a losing battle, unafraid of him and just as stubborn as he.

~~~*~~~

In the days that you had been traveling with the man, you’d found a renewed solace in your shared quiet moments. There was a comforting tensity in his chest each time you leaned into him with either your back or side. With such a great distance to cross, and nothing to keep you occupied other than the landscape that seemed to repeat itself, you opted to utilize your muted moments for rest.

The hours tumbled into weeks with no rest for the wicked. Stranger galloped and trotted on worn legs, made worse by the two bodies on his back whereas he had grown used to one. As you traveled further from Kings Landing, moving at day was safe. After the initial run, Sandor had opted to only traverse the roads at night and sleep during the day.

Somewhere along the road he had sourced you a new outfit, stolen from the body of a younger man who had charged the two of you as you slept. His outer layers were ruined, soaked thoroughly with the copper blood that leaked from his wounds. A pair of boots were salvageable, as well as pants and an extra cotton shirt that you easily sewed into your size.

Word from the king and his court echoed through the winds of Westeros. The proclamation of Sandor being made a traitor to the crown and a bounty set for his head crept through the ears of each man or woman that would listen. The towns outside of the city were off limits, crawling with gold cloaks. The towns further out were the same way. The Battle of the Blackwater had been won, the Lannisters prevailing at the arrival of the joint Lannister-Tyrell forces. The inception of Tywin Lannister cast his son, Tyrion, aside as he assumed the role of acting Hand of the King. Joffrey’s rage rang through the whistling grasslands, tales of his reddened face and steaming ears were sung as he offered a reward to the man who would return you safely to the Red Keep. In an effort to spread the word, the song of a stolen foreign princess taken in the night by the brother of the man she was meant to marry was caroled. The warbled tale was on the lips of anyone musically, or not musically, inclined, and in the ears of anyone it touched.

A hound, the hound, and a fair young lady bound! Oh!

A hound, the hound, and the fair young lady bound.

In the night he came with ill intention toward the dame.

A foreign beauty from the sea, sworn to his brother oh to be.

But the man refused to yield as they ran off in a field.

A hound, the hound, and the fair young lady bound.

Fleeing the battle he cowered with the virgin dame still flowered.

They ran into the night as the real men joined the fight.

The mountain high and tall lost his bride in early fall.

A hound, the hound, and the fair young lady bound.

A hound and the lady bound.

Find her! Find her! Oh!

The lady bound and the hound.

~~~*~~~

Sandor’s hulking frame closed you off within the booth that he had led you to. Its hay-stuffed cushions were flattened and dirtied, mud stains caked on the surface of the material. His shoulder pushed against yours, decreasing the distance between you and the window by inches as his protection loomed large.

It was a small place. The door was so small that he had to duck to enter. Patrons were few and far between with only one other table filled with three elderly men who looked to be farmers. Yet, he insisted you not sit across from him as it would leave anyone who recognized the two of you an opening for attack. It was far easier to simply hide your existence all together.

The food left much to be desired, but it was food and that was all that you could ask. Sandor was pleased, though, the first sting of an alcoholic beverage on his tongue since leaving Kings Landing. He drank a dark ale from a hallowed horn with a flattened bottom whilst you nursed a wooden cup filled with herbal tea sweetened with fresh honey. While not the best or most luxurious meal, it was the first hot meal in days and far more nutritious than the stale bread and dried meats you had been surviving off of.

A creak at the door alerted you to the new presence of three men walking into the tavern. They strolled through the double doors, a hat with chain mail and tanned garb on each. It was blatant who they were, and easily discernible as to why they were so far from the city walls.

The tavern maid brought them a platter of food, not waiting to hear what they wanted. She received no true payment, only an obscene and unwelcome slap to her backside. Her nose cringed as she retreated back to the kitchen. An elbow to the side had Sandor grumbling, the suggestion of moving along in his mind. His beard had grown slightly, his chewing more pronounced. You mouthed a warning the best you could, only earning a confused look. Silently widening your eyes, you tilted your head in the three men’s direction where they sat at the rear of the room.

“Fuck. Come on.” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm and hoisted your body to your feet as he exited the booth.

The smaller of the three soldiers regarded the two of you as you passed, “you there.” He said, his head forward set on you and Sandor. The light that crept from the hinges of the door became brighter and brighter as you moved ahead, not sparing the men a word or glance. “What brings a Hound to a place like this?”

The second man was taller than the first, but still nowhere near looking Sandor in the eye. “And the lady bound. Her betrothed yearns for her, you know?.” He mocked, rising to his feet as the other two followed suit. “She will be coming with us.”

“Like hell.” Sandor’s hand covered your midsection as he protectively pushed you behind him.

“It seems you’re far outnumbered, Clegane. Just give us the girl, and you can be on your way.”

He laughed at the men, baring his teeth as he ridiculed their choice of words. “You think your fucking king would let you live if you let me go?” Sandor barked, the muscles in his neck tightening.

“He is a gracious man,” the last man jibed, “he just might.”

“He may.” Sandor started, not wasting a half second as he drew his sword from his hip and pierced it through the last man’s chest. His armor melted like butter under his strength; the light of his eyes fled into a haze. “But I won’t.”

The fight, if you could call it that by any stretch of the imagination, ended as soon as it began. They were no match for Clegane, falling at the tip of his blade in three easy strokes. Masterfully cutting through the remaining men, Sandor left them in growing pools of their own blood with their fingers clawing desperately at their throats.

Gore didn’t bother him. He wiped his sword off on one of their shirts and tucked it back into place. Plucking a drumstick from the platter they had been served on arrival, he watched the last man pass into the afterlife and joined his soul in exiting the tavern, letting the door slam on his way out. It hadn’t even fully processed in your mind.

When the door fumbled on its hinges from the force of its closure, you were startled back to reality. Finding two silvers in your bag, you tossed them onto the table and bled profuse apologies to the tavern girl who splattered ale on the floor from the fearful shaking of her arms. On your way out, you swiped the smallest man’s sword and belt as he would not have any use for it in the future.

Sandor was already saddling Stranger when you were bathed in the midday sunlight, acting as though nothing just happened. The drumstick bone he took was discarded on the ground at his feet, broken in half from the weight of his heel. His brow lifted at the uncustomary item on your hip. “What do you need that for?”

“Protection.”

He snorted, shaking his head and patting his horse on the back. “Protection? Am I not good enough for you, girl?”

“And what should I do if I am to find myself without you?” Hands gripped snugly around your waist. He hardly waited for permission anymore. “Would you like me to strip myself naked and lie down for my attackers?”

Rolling his eyes, he huffed and slipped his foot into the saddle’s strap. His chest pushed against your back and his arms wrapped around your sides. “Keep the sword. Just don’t cut yourself with it.”

~~~*~~~

Encounters with Lannister men became less frequent as the time spent watching your backs drastically decreased. By the time you arrived at one of the first inns you had seen in weeks, Sandor had cut through nearly 30 of them. The bounty on his head only increased. Each group would offer him the same deal the first had - throw you to the soldiers and walk free. Though, he never took them up on their offers. He always forced you from the fight and left the scene shortly after.

Traveling along the Gold Road became more bothersome as merchants and traveling groups would stop you and try to sell some of their wares. So, Sandor made the executive decision and opted to go off trail in the hopes that these moments would grow sparse. In the night, you would attempt to train with your newly acquired sword, but all attempts usually ended with an increasingly annoyed huff as he would knock you on your ass for the thousandth time. “Fighting’s not your strong suit.” He would always say. “Find other hobbies.”

It became part of your routine. Sandor would leave before dawn, returning with a bird or rabbit to share. You would mount Stranger and ride for an indiscriminate amount of hours. When you grew tired, you would stop somewhere concealed by foliage and fall asleep beneath the stars. On occasion, you would purchase dried meats from merchants, and on even less occasion you would find fruiting bushes.

Tonight, though, you were lucky enough to have stumbled across the small desolate inn that you had been acquainted with for the past hour as you ate the stew offered. An elderly woman and her husband worked both the kitchen and the offered room, being the only staff for their quaint workplace.

“We’ve only got one room other than our own.” The woman hobbled up a short staircase as she wearily smiled. “We don’t have set prices, just ask that you pay what you can.” Her husband had started washing the dishes, bidding the two of you goodnight as he promised to lock the doors up and start a fire in the hearth to keep the building warm.

“How long have the two of you been married?”

“Oh,” you let out a surprised quip, “we aren’t married.”

The sound the woman made was uncouth, her whole chest being put into the guttural snort that drew her breath from her lungs. Charmed, she shook her head and fumbled with the silver lock to the room. “You had us fooled!” She gave you a toothy smile full of jagged teeth, which was strangely not off-putting, rather comforting in a grandmotherly type of way. “Maybe the lad will ask for your hand soon enough.” The door squeaked open. “Leave your payment on the counter if we aren’t up in the morning when you leave. We’ll leave some bread and dried fruit out for your journey.”

“Thank you.”

In the darkness sat a plain room large enough for a water basin, a table, and a bed large enough for two just beyond the door. Sandor pushed past, entering first as he scoured the space for anything out of the ordinary. Appeased, he lit the oil lantern left on the table and sat down, fumbling with the hooks of his shoulder plates. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“You’ve got all day to think, girl. ‘ere, drink.” The homemade blackberry wine that the old woman offered was already half gone by the time you got to it, but you weren’t sure if it was from the large swig Sandor took or if it was only filled to that point in the first place. At dinner, he had effectively drained them of a few pitchers of liquor, happy to have something other than water.

Your fingers circled the wooden up, bringing its gritted edge to your lip as you drank. “Let me see your wound. It’s healing nicely, but your incessant itching isn't helping.”

He took the cup from your hand and finished off the rest. “Such a doting little lamb, aren’t you?”

“Just hold still, would you?” Palming his face like you had for so many days prior until he grew tired of the constant touch, the heart of your hand pressed firmly into his malleable cheek. The scruff of his growing beard rubbed against your skin as his eyes followed his hands, trying his best to not pour wine onto the table.

“How can you even look at me?” He said with repugnance bursting from his tone. Alcohol stung his lips. There was no self-pity in his voice, but the underlying insecurities were clearly there.

“You’re a man like any other, with scars like any other.” The gentle dab of a wet cloth to his forehead drew his eyes upward to admire the softness of your features. You were a right mess, your hair was ruffled and knotted, your face was smeared with dirt most days, and the clothes you had now reeked of sweat and the stench of travel. But there was something that kept you looking new and refreshed. Your skin had not paled or lost its color, your eye still contained its radiant twinkle, and your spirit remained relatively high.

“Most fuckers don’t have scars like me.” Sandor debated, his eyes falling closed for a moment of contemplation, reopening when he noticed you going to your pack and pulling out a small silver tin.

“and most fuckers would have sold me off the first chance they got.” You scooped a small portion of salve out with a nail, smearing it across Sandor’s healing cut. “Yet you didn’t.”

“I’ll get a better payment from ‘yer father than anyone else.”

“That’s what you continue saying,” The room fell silent as you continued to rub your thumb across his skin. His vision was trained on you again, gaze meeting yours as you backed inches from his face. “We’ve not left this area in days. I feel like we’re walking in circles half of the time. I don’t believe you were intending on taking me to Barrowton.”

“Then where?”

“I think you intended on keeping me with you as long as you could.”

“Why would I do that?”

You were so close at that moment. Your noses were mere inches from one another, your mouths close enough to smell the faint sweetness of blackberry on one another’s lips. His eyes were half-lidded, either in anticipation or out of a growing tiredness that even you were beginning to feel. Bringing your bottom lip between your front teeth, you considered the outcomes for a split second, allowing him time to rear back, but he didn’t. Tenderly, you pressed your lips to his and traced your fingers around the hard curve of his strengthened jaw. It was everything. The weight that you had been carrying, the tension that never ceased to sting your nerves, the things you wished you had been able to say previously, all evaporated into the air. The weight lightened, the tension broke, and the things you wished you had said were replaced with an action meant only as an action of true intimacy.

The night was no longer as your heart swelled, illuminating the midnight lands for miles in all directions. A soothing heat ignited within you, warming your body more than any fire could. His lips were chapped, but not uncomfortably so. The hairs of his upper lip tickled yours, eliciting the tug of a smile.

You pulled back, and looked into his eyes.

And everything fell.

There was no smile on his face, no sparks in his vision, and no fire lit in his soul. He was so unimaginably guarded. You thought you were able to read his expressions, but that one moment had you questioning everything you once knew about the man. His stoic spirit took the breath from your lungs.

“Was I supposed to feel something?”

It cut through you like a thousand knives, and he knew that immediately when you withdrew your hand from his neck as though his skin suddenly burnt you. He watched as you took quick steps away and brought your arms comfortingly around your shoulders.

“No.” The words were nothing more than a heartbreaking whisper; the cracking of your voice was unconcealable. “No.” You repeated. “You weren’t. Forget it happened… Goodnight.”

Three short footsteps creaked on the wooden floor as you crossed the rest of the way toward the bed. It squeaked under the weight of your body as you sat on its edge and then slipped beneath the wool blanket.

Writers note: You thought you'd get love?????? Just because you escaped Kings Landing?????? Think again! This is a minsyal fic. We slow burn

Tag list:

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#sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #sandor clegane #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction

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prisonmindsgypsystar · 1 year

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Todays been a long day, I'm looking at the time 10,33 that's the time

This morning Im looking at the date, thinking of dad because jun 21st, 21st is his birthday date in January,

I don't know I just was feeling kinda funny

I was thinking how off I felt,

And so mum calls speaking to her was good mum had said, she felt the same way, but wasn't sure what of, not that she would have been with him in any way again, But she felt his love bombarded her with noise feeling dim.

The day goes by it seems a little slow, filled of things and places to go,

But negative more than good pushes and shoves,

The train doesn't come, so here I sit with thousands of winning teenage , sitting here man this ain't it, the world knows they way I think why they do me so dirty, shut up me stop over thinking and love story, the story is my life, so I look up at the sky but that isn't working so I put my hood on and hide, wait for the train, and now everyone's in a hurry because the fucking train people shuved us in only 2 trollies, so head down I face till the train pulls up, and off I go to my next stop,

I get to the next town, and walk to wait, for another hour, well atleast I'm not late, I stand by and listen to a boy before me, drumming out his heart I could feel it through my body a little boy only 10 drumming banging on heads singing out loud man that kids gonna break legs

Soon it was my time 4 o'clock I go in to my drummer lesson here we go,

But something pretty special I've realised today, that I've learnt intirly

I learnt while finally doing something I truly like,

But the issue is something I don't like, something that I'm glad to see,

just figuring out how to break down my walls that I've created to protect and survive the negativity

I'm in freeze fight mode and afraid to try,

Try and fail, but I know thats how you learn right

It's just everytime I did something it was always wrong

In the eyes of others, it's all they see in the song

Walls I've built to show I'm alright

Not truly doing what I love and desire not holding on tight

I'm learning to break them down, it's just I don't want to share my love with them anytime,

Anytime I win anytime I soar flying through the sky doing it all

I try to do my best and that's all I doo

I love many things but I just wanna do my best in all I doo

I like to fail because it helps me learn, but the people that taught me was not the right burn,

It was burn like fire, ripping at my soul melting away my inside not caring if I was hurt

So I liked the loneliness or people that love me because fuck I don't like the negativity,

I'm scared so i try, because I want to break free,

From this nightmare inside of me

So drumming I'm trying to see where my limits are, to push past those walls, smashing down the negative calls

I get into the zone trying on my own,

Until it's time to go home

Nana comes, it starts again

This world of hell raises and begins,

Shut up me full of worry,

Just wanting food cause I'm hungry

So dinner we go butterchicken on, date night with Nan I love her man she's on,

Back home I go

To a handsome man, that has no idea what I see,

Everytime I walk in the door my heart melts seeing his eyes breathing in his smell, home comes rushing in we go

Seeing my beautiful man at home,

I come in kiss kiss I go I love this man there's no place like home

I sit there to see how he is, before I begin to chop for my bong that's about to hit me into another reality shift,

Hitting me into saying shit that always seems to be wrong,

My love start to act funny I ask him whats wrong but instead jhe shoves me off, saying can you go upstairs and there I sit wondering what the fuck I even said, what did I do to make you go numb, now I felt something was definitely going on, so then I pack my shit to go, looking up one last time saying I love you so,

I go upstairs wondering what the fuck, did I do to make things go dark, so I message to ask what's wrong but he says go have funn with your sexy drummer bum

This egg of a man really misunderstood what I said so I said what's up, but he seems to not care what I was saying was going straight into the air,

So I wait for him

I love him and now I'm back looking at him

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cracksz1 · 2 years

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a-tale-of-legends · 2 years

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Taking shelter due to the bad weather

Summary: The Pokemon Center is a great place for taking shelter in a storm.

Word Count: 926

Notes: Another idea via @comic-the-adventurer ! Also this is literally my first time writing Kenji! It was a long time coming! I hope you enjoy!

There was a storm outside, and a nasty one at that. Nurse Joy had advised all the trainers to stay in the Pokemon Center until the storm passes, which thankfully, went without argument. So now they all wait for the storm to pass through. There’s mild chatter in the pokemon center: trainers sitting on the lounge couches, holding a cup of cocoa and snuggling underneath warm blankets that the center provided. Some g]have they’re pokemon out as well, either eating or snuggling close to their trainer during the storm. It’s fairly peaceful. Until it wasn’t

Suddenly, the Pokemon Center doors fling open with two strangers running in, both clearly out of breath, one who is laughing loudly. This takes most of the trainers.. What is even more surprising, was the faces of the strangers that ran in.

None other than Champion Kenji ran into the humble Pokemon Center, laughing as he looked over to his esteemed rival, Silver, who glares at him.

“ See? I told you it would be open!” Kenji laughs between breaths, earning a bonk to the head by his rival.

“ Yes, and we’re soaking wet because of it,” Silver grumbles. Kenji rubs his bonked head and sticks his tongue out at his rival.

“ Well it’s better than just waiting in some wet cave-”

“ Ahem,” the sound of Nurse Joy clearing her throat, then waving her hand over at the two with a kind smile. Kenji seems to realize that there’s a crowd, and laughs sheepishly, rubbing his hand behind his head. Silver says nothing, just crosses his arms to what looks like a silent pout

“ Whoops! Sorry for the rude interruption everyone!” jhe apologizes, then walks to Nurse Joy with Silver next to him. That's when the not so subtle whispers began.

“ Is that..?”

“It is! I can’t believe our luck! “

“ No, but what are the odds….”

“You think I can get an autograph?’

The comments fall to deaf ears as Kenji and Silver continue their business. Or at least it seems that way. No one can really tell what those two are thinking half the time. Sure, Kenji is known for his outgoingness with Johto as a general, it’s always a semi-big deal when he comes along, much like Lancee before him. The same can be said for Lance’s adopted son., though he’s much more elusive and, er, cold.

“ Alright, thank you!’ Kenji says as he and Silver take their pokeballs away from her. He was about to turn to walk to the large group of trainers, a big grin on his face, but was abruptly pulled away by Silver into a quiet corner of the Pokemon Center. He gives a quick glare to those who look on, quickly causing them to look away.

“ Sheesh!”

“Scary…”

The two sit down for a bit, and talk ( well Kenji doing most of the talking) and soon enough the Pokemon Center is back to its usual cozy chatter. The storm still rages on, but everyone is comfortable and safe, so that’s good.

……

A little girl, after some encouragement from her mother, walks in the direction of the Champion and his rival. Kenji was the first to notice, and his eyes softened as the little girl shuffled over.

“ Well hello there! Who might you be?” Kenji reaches out for the little girl's hand, which she shyly takes.

“ Z-zoey….” Zoey mumbles, still nervous. Kenji smiles gently at the little girl. Silver scoots himself away a bit, giving the two some space.

“ Heya Zoey….whatcha got there?” Kenji gestures to the pen and paper that the girl is holding. The acknowledgement of the item made Zoey look down at her shoes.

“ U-um…can- can I have your autograph?” she says shyly, and Kenji beams.

“ Of course! Give em’ here,” Kenji’s sudden approval causes the smile to break on her face, as she eagerly gives Kenji the pen and paper. Thankfully, both Kenji and Silver are dry from the rain, so he writes the autograph easily. He even adds a cute doodle to make Zoey smile even more.

“ Here you go! One autograph!”

“Thank you! “ The girl cheers, jumping up and down when receiving back her paper. Now would have been were the girl goes running back to her mom, she stays put, now eyeing Silver with the same nervousness as before. Silver raises a brow before his eyes widening.

“ Me?!”

“Silvy?!” Kenji adds enthusiastically. If his smile would get any bigger, it does.

“ If you don’t mind….” Zoey shuffles in her spot, and Kenji gives Silver a ‘ come on, dude, you gotta’ look. Silver's cheeks pink from the acknowledgement, but in typical SIlver fashion, he tries to downplay it.

“ Sure, fine. Hand it over,” he tries to be nonchalant, but he’s clearly struggling from the joy seeping off of both the girl and Kenji next to him.

Just like before, Silver gives Zoey his autograph, and now she runs back to her mom, cheering and showing off her paper ( and giving back the pen). Her mom mouths ‘thank you’ to the both of them.

…..

The storm has passed, and one by one trainers leave the Pokemon Center. They say their goodbyes, or offer to travel together. One by one, they leave, as others enter. However, Kenji and Silver stay. They both have fallen asleep during the storm, with the warmth of the Center easing them in. Kenji, being the shorter one, rests his head on Silver's shoulder. Both of their bags are being held protectively in their arms. No one dares to wake them. Not yet.

#oc: kenji hino #rival silver #:)#i really like this #is their relationship( i hope) is left ambiguous #but i think you can garner that they're a lot closer than they were when they were 10 and 11 respectively

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thebloodychampion · 2 years

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💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon ☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon 📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact. // Malcolm / Fenrir // Danny // Lyon // Jerker // Etienne // Elgar'nan // Nicolas // Sethius // Archer

@justasimplesecretary

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

Malcolm: His past is completely unknown before he came to the gallows in Kirkwall. He also doesn’t talk about it, but rumor has it, he came actually from Tevinter and escaped his slave master.

Fenrir: Fenrir killed his own mother and father when he first transformed into a werewolf. He still owns the house they lived in.

Danny: When Danny first transformed into an animagus, he literally ate his girlfriend and her lover.

Lyon: Lyon almost drowned and that gave him an imense fear of water, especially deep waters.

Jerker: Jerker was actually a very confident man in his past (he still is), but he got trapped by someone in the fade for eternity. He had so much hatred inside of him because of that, he literaly turned into the nightmare demon and created an own portion of the fade for himself.

Etienne: Etienne came from a past where it was impossible as a woman (which jhe was born as) to become anything important. He used illusions and other things to make himself appear as a man. He has no idea what he looked like in younger days.

Elgar’nan: Elgar’nan plotted to kill Mythal and actually succeded in killing her host form.

Nicolas: As a crow, Nicolas killed way more people than anyone else should have.

Sethius: Sethius has sometimes a very hard to come to terms with being in the future, especially when he couldn’t communicate through the language barrier.

Archer: As Viscount Archer cut off mages hands, she wasn’t the best in dealing with trauma after all.

----

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

Malcolm: Malcolm would do anything for his children, like anything. Even like going away so they can live a normal life, which in hindsight was maybe not the best decision.

Fenrir: Fenrir is surprisingly sweet to any newly bitten werewolves especially children and young people. He knows how hard it is since he was completely alone when he transformed and lived alone for most of his life.

Danny: Danny is overprotective of his younger sister Amelia.

Lyon: Lyon literally tried everything to find his twin sister Solona when she got sent to the circle in Ferelden. They both actually worked together when he was a guard for a short time in Vigil’s Keep.

Jerker: Jerker only trapped a small fragment of himself into the dragon so he could see Lilah through the dragon, sadly when Amaradin froze time, he also froze with him.

Etienne: Etienne took in homeless girls, he didn’t care if they were human, elves or dwarves, to his brothel so they could work and have a place to sleep. He also respects if a girl doesn’t like want to please costumers. He just uses them for like making drinks and stuff.

Elgar’nan: Elgar’nan is really protective over Dreag’s body and makes sure that nobody besides Dreag’s family or Janus and his family, can touch him. He will literally take over and smack the living hell out of a stranger.

Nicolas: Nicolas freaking loves his daughters and wants the best for them. He does however have no contact with them.

Sethius: Sethius is surprisingly enough a family man, he loves his wife and his children, no matter what.

Archer: Archer is super cuddly after anything sexual.

-----

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact

Malcolm: Malcolm’s main type of magic is spirit magic.

Fenrir: Fenrir was called by his given name in school and not his last name since no teacher could pronounce it.

Danny: Danny came to Hogwarts and couldn’t speak a word in English.

Lyon: Lyon is a real ginger, everything is ginger.

Jerker: Jerker actually had freckles but he removed them after a while, he thinks they don’t suit him anymore.

Etienne: Etienne works besides his brothel in the university of Val Royeaux, he teaches ancient history and specifically Tevinter history.

Elgar’nan: Elgar’nan doesn’t really care about the Dalish at all.

Nicolas: Nicolas is technically a noble as well, but he was always more interested in his father’s merchant prince title.

Sethius: Sethius has not used blood magic ever since he came to the future.

Archer: Archer eyes were originally a very vibrant blue, but now they are like grey and milky due to his blindness.

#muse things #malcolm things #fenrir things #danny things #lyon things #jerker things #etienne things #elgar'nan things #nicolas things #sethius things #archer things

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quaintremedies · 3 years

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operation betrayal (part 1)

Prompt number: 30 (”Don’t ruin this.”)

Original Fiction*

Rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13)

Warning/Tags: none

---

“Alfons, mretcha est yehera. (Her Majesty is waiting for you).”

“Jhes kherla? (This early?).”

“Yes.”

He sits up from his bed, grabbing a nearby shirt and tie. As he put them on, his gaze went to the open door where his commander stood tall and proud. Alfons glanced at the watch around his wrist; 6 AM. With a light sigh, he fixed his tie and snatched his signature black coat. “Ye wel bi with sel osn. (I will be with her soon).” he replied, “Where?”

“Garden.” the older man replied. “Said she wants to see the sun rise.”

Both men exchanged a nod before going their separate ways. Alfons, having remembered the outline of the Palace really well, made his way to the only open space available. Amongst all the flowers, bushes, some trees, marble paths and a huge fountain in the middle of the place, he found the Queen sitting on one of the white stone benches facing the dusk. The lines on her face and creases under her eyes began to show—as time passed by, of course, even the holiest of people couldn’t escape old age.

“Mretcha (Your Majesty).” Alfons greeted, bowing his head slightly as a sign of respect.

“Sit.” she told him immediately, patting the empty spot next to her. Hesitantly, the young general sat down, leaving enough space between them so he wouldn’t invade her personal space.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” the woman whispered, the warm morning sunlight twinkling in her eyes. “The sunrise.”

“It is.” he agreed. “A privilege only some are able to witness.”

The Queen chuckled lightly, shifting a little to look at the younger one, and it surprised him a little. “Truth to be told, I am not here for the sunrise.”

“Listen up.”

The small room was lit up by fluorescent lights and the hologram of the city map—no, almost like a slum, really. Alfons stood tall amongst his men, clad in his all-black outfit with the patch on his left arm which was the only thing that stood out there. Few of the men gathered around with him; similar outfit, but different patch location. His gaze was hard, just as he should be; a General.

“We had an intel on a group of rebels.” Alfons simply moved his hand to zoom into a small home in the middle of the infamous ‘slum city’. “This is most likely their base.”

“In Strundreya?” One of the men scoffed. “They can’t be that much of a threat.”

“That may be.” He agreed although his tone said differently. “But it is always good to take precautions.”

“The usual job?” Another one asked.

“Yes.” Alfons transferred the hologram to each of the team members’ devices on their wrists, “Infiltrate and neutralize. Learn their secrets and report back.”

“Alpha will be led by me. We will infiltrate the house immediately. Beta, led by Scion, will scour the area and take down any threats, including manpower and supplies. Don’t ruin this mission, am I understood?”

“Leacre, seir! (Clear, sir!)” They exclaimed, each one saluting him.

“Very well.” He nodded, slipping his weapon to its respective place. “Laes shif jhese bastrs un an for al. (Let’s finish these bastards once and for all).”

---

*a story from Arrion Universe that I created with my friend (if you’ve been here long enough, you’ll know ;) )

#fictober21 #fictober day 29 #original fiction #short story #by ries

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tornrose24 · 3 years

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Was watching the last two episodes of season 1 of TetoCU for a certain image. But now I have questions/thoughts about some things....

Thoughts regarded George and Harold

-What was going to happen if MB hadn’t interferred with events and gave the boys an opportunity to get Krupp fired? Keep in mind that George and Harold had two office visits left to go before expulsion before they learned about Endenemys. Unless Krupp FINALLY broke them, then the boys would have been expelled eventually.

-Except MB wanted to get George and Harold out of the school and waited until Krupp was fired before doing so. So either MB kicked the boys out because he hated them to begin with, something happened in his timeline to make things worse for him and it involved the boys.

-Or maybe he didn’t want a repeat of the situation in which the boys died. Don’t want to risk someone finding out that you possibly might of been a murderer.

My thoughts regarding Krupp/CU:

-Was Krupp’s change of heart genuine or was it just one guilt trip? He never really gets any character development later on and never makes an effort to change after season 2. Even the alternate school episode in season two makes me wonder how genuine he was being with the boys.

-How did he arrange that meeting in the diner with the boys in the first place? Also, did he actually drive them there himself?

-I would have LOVED to have seen him have to meet up with the boys’ parents and see how that explanation about the countdown in his office went, or if he succeeded in expelling them on his terms. Especially given how unreliable the parents are.

-How did he NOT KNOW that writing rules in the rule book was against the school district’s rules? I know this version is super dumb at times, but he should have known what he was risking.

-Considering the possible fate of George and Harold from MB’s timeline, and the fact that there wasn’t any mention of Krupp’s future self, I’m still convinced something bad happened to him and CU. (And I know I covered this in a fic, but considering how MB tends to be, he might of had a hand in it).

-Was the music to Krupp’s victory dance the same disco song he (and CU) dance to in the butt-erfly and season 2 finale episodes? It kind of sounded like it.)

-There were so many opportunities to add to the countdown when the boys were trying to get the rule book from his office. As funny as the Meaner bit was, it was so obvious that it was George and Harold dressed as his look-a-like that I’m surprised Krupp didn’t snap out of his moment of bafflement.

-So... is the lawnmowing neighbor NOT important after setting him up as such?

My thoughts regarding Melvinborg:

-If future!George and Harold knew what Melvinborg was going to do, they would have stopped him before he expelled their younger selves. This doesn’t happen because, as MB himself pretty much said, he left them for dead in his timeline.

-MB was in the past long enough for Erica to be familiar with his superintendent identity, but for how long? And what happened to the original superintendent?

-Also, is he able to adjust his cyborg parts so that he can fit into the costume? I don’t think his right arm would have fit into the costume’s right arm.

-When MB as Endenemys meets the boys, he seemed surprised when he heard about the rule book and asked if Krupp wrote any of his own rules in them. Did he know about this beforehand and was putting on an act, or was he surprised and just double checking to make sure he had a way to kick Krupp out?

-Given how self absorbed MB is, it suddenly makes sense that Endenemys had so much artwork of himself in his office. As a humorus bonus, in one painting he is shown with a cat which is an animal Melvin is allergic to.

-MB went out of his way to ensure that Krupp would be fired ‘for crimes against humanity and academia’ (or something like that). Did he know about CU and was ensuring that Krupp would be out of the way? Or did Krupp do something that further prevented Melvin from attending his dream school (I think the Claylossus episode pretty much said that Krupp was depending on Melvin’s grades to keep the school running, but Melvin is also the number one snitch/assistant to him). Remember that MB would only rehire Krupp to be able to focus on his own goals/for his own twisted amusement and made sure Krupp suffered for it.

-MB tends to underestimate George and Harold. Shouldn’t he have checked to make sure that Krupp’s made up rules weren’t allowed and therefore ensured that the boys could still stay at JHES? Or make sure the next person to take the superintendent job WASN’T someone who was highly intelligent?

-Little bonus: Melvin’s dad was absent for awhile but he’s still married to Cindy. I think Pilkey confirmed they worked for the government so maybe Gaylord was on a business trip. (I’d of loved to have seen his reaction to his wife flirting with an actual fart).

#captain underpants #the epic tales of captain underpants #mr. krupp #melvinborg #rewatch bonus

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dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition · 3 years

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4, 9, 24, and 30 for Anthe :nevplead:

4 answered! it’s blood!

where does your character look when they’re the only one walking down a road?

so this is. familiar to her. she’s very used to being alone, so she looks for nature that will protect her where people won’t. a solid place to rest and find food, and a path to safety.

what made your character the angriest they’ve ever been?

hm... i think it might be the pride’s call situation, but anger feels too much. she’s an angry person, but most of that anger is repressed, you know, and it bursts out, but it’s all piled up from little things. so. yeah. pride’s call, but anger is a very odd word for it.

let’s put 30 under a readmore...

how has your character’s first impressions of their party members changed since they met them? have they stayed the same?

here’s everybody.

d’nou: anthe is still trying to figure him out; her first impression was a drunken ohhhh he seems interesting, and then a sober He’s nice. Too nice? because she’s anthe. he’s growing on her as he shows more vulnerability and helps the team, but. yeah. she’s just protective over nev and vic.

jhe: she really thought jhe was fun! she did. her first impression was scrappy, which stuck, and then it was sort of reinforced until we lost them. anthe wishes the party mourned them more. not being able to help jhe really really dwells in her brain. yeah.

nev: first impression was, oh, wow, she seems so cool. anthe’s really liked nev from the beginning, found her really interesting and wanted to know more. and she still thinks nev is really cool and interesting, and she always always wants to know more. but she is also in love with nev now, so. yeah. we know this. she’s gay.

nol: intimidating but interesting wizard friend! -> oh god she hates me and thinks im evil -> we’re friends now maybe -> she probably still hates me oh god oh fuck oh god oh fuck. -> we are friends even as we disagree and fight. we’re normal. we’re normal. -> i understand why she’s leaving. -> everyone leaves me and i deserve it.

pat: she’s glad he developed a sort of selfhood. she was really worried about his whole... state of being. yeah. she is less worried now. she’s still worried. but she’s glad he’s more of a person.

raelian: tough and cool! she liked raelian right away i think. they could vibe! and raelian was like... admirably good at dealing with her feelings, and was kind of inspiring to anthe in that regard; she very much wants to have that kind of chill wisdom to her. but. then. yeah. uh. she understands--like she said--probably better than anyone what raelian was going through emotionally, at the end. and then. um. yeah. anthe thinks everyone leaves me and i deserve it again.

veil: still figuring it out, but first impression was scary sexy lady!!! she thinks it’s cool and that blood magic rules, just, like, generally, but... possessed weapon? that’s concerning! just, inherently! so, again. protective of nev and vic.

vic: a sweet guy who’s carrying a lot on his shoulders. that’s the immediate thought. and then... like, obviously, she still has that thought. but now it’s so much more than that. they’re so similar and they’re so close and she wants to help him so, so badly. she wants to protect him. that’s her boy. that’s her fucking boy. (i do think there’s meta to be written about how, of the two of them, it’s vic who eventually became a barbarian. but. yeah.)

ziggy: she thought he was strange and funny. she thought he was strange and funny and that he was still learning how the world worked. she thought he cared too much for himself and not enough for others. she thought he was selfish. she thought he was selfish to leave. she thought he was selfish to come back. she thought he was trying. and then she thought she had to help bring him back, because that shouldn’t happen to anyone.

#dnd talk #anthe #johnandrasjaqobis

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johnandrasjaqobis · 4 years

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4 14 29 31 45 52 69 for sweet vic

4: if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be? I’m limiting it to cantrips bc A: that is legit something I have thought about thanks to Feats and B: he currently has Zero magic, baby steps but even then it’s...very tough to pick between the usefulness and the nostalgia. On one hand, Vic learning Spare the Dying would be extremely poetic and fitting, and he’d love to be able to help someone long enough for the real healers to get there. On the other......Dancing Lights was Illy’s most frequently used spell, enough so that Vic still has the verbal component memorized. It’s very utility and it’s very familiar to him and it would be. nice.

(The rest under the cut!)

14: what is something they love about themself? He feels like he is someone people trust easily. Whether as like, watching their backs in a fight or as confidant or just a helping hand wherever he can. He is Reliable. He also does genuinely love the echo abilities. Feels they’ve been well-earned and they just. Feel like a piece of home.

29: who would they save? who would they be saved by? aaahaha is “everyone” an appropriate answer for the first bit, because Vic would like it to be everyone. Specifically, though, his friends, without question. Even more specifically, Nol, without hesitation. (and i know, i know because dnd is evil like that, there will come a day when somehow he has to prioritize who to look after and it will Hurt Me) for the second bit....tbh I think it’s gonna be a tossup of whether Nev or Anthe breaks through his very stubborn defenses first. But once all that inevitably comes crashing down it’s just going to be the party as a whole. Having people around this time who won’t let him bottle everything back up again, people who look after him when he won’t look after himself.

31: they’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? Might start some sort of stream-of-conscious journaling type writing. and then definitely, methodically, ripping it into very tiny pieces.

45: how do they hug people? With every bit of that 18str babey He is realizing how long he went without like. Real affection (not even two years, really, but that is a long time considering how frequent it was before) and the fact that he has people who will hug him now is just. Very Good. Vic puts a lot into hugs, because he has definitely learned to make that sort of thing count. (Hey fun fact, before that hug with Anthe during KirGate? The last genuine affectionate contact he’d had was uh. Illy. Shortly before. u kno.)

52: from whom do they seek validation? once again, does Everyone count? I mean like. Not everyone I guess, he really couldn’t care less what people like Thelyss think of him (other than in a “is he going to try to arrest me” sort of way). But also Vic was a young soldier selected for a very rare and kind of literally iconic skill training. The echo knights are kept as much a secret as they can be from the Empire, but they’re somewhat revered among the Aurora Watch and he wanted to live up to that so badly. He wants to be good at his work, and maybe that work has changed a little now, but. He still wants to prove (to someone, to everyone, to himself) that he can do his job.

69: how would they describe their party members? what an excellent question, a somewhat incredulous laugh would probably be the first thing, but

Anthe - Absolute little spitfire. She’s small (though he’s met smaller) and has somehow condensed a frankly scary amount of whoopass into that tiny frame, and he loves it. Also surprisingly...insightful once you get past that. Always watching people, always picking up on things, always asking things, which can be. Fun when directed at him. But Anthe gets it, and she’s always ready with healing or a safe night’s sleep or weird conversations with skeletons.

Nev - Somehow simultaneously the softest and toughest person he’s ever met. She’s absolutely terrifying in combat (which is great for them, not so great for the demons) and so kind and considerate and thoughtful any other time. Nev is the type to just. Check up on people. Offer a listening ear. Offer advice you didn’t even know you needed. Maybe unfamiliar with the specifics of new places but never really comes across as naive? (also doing all this literally blind, which he so often forgets)

Nol - that’s his wizard, folks. His wizard is a bitch and he likes her so much. She is also extremely complicated, has a frankly fucked up history when you get down to it, but the important part is that she is here, now, and seems to be actively trying. Nol is on their side and holy shit is that a good thing for them because she is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying and fascinating magic involved all the time. He would not call her Nice, not in any sense of the word, she is in fact an asshole to most people most of the time, but beyond that is just. She is Nol and nothing is going to happen to her.

P.A.T. - Very....very confusing. Vic didn’t pursue higher education but he’s pretty sure most professors aren’t like this. It’s interesting, someone who was literally created to do one specific job, but it’s also something he feels is beyond his ability to really understand. PAT has some handy moves when it comes to boosting or protecting the others in a fight, and that’s appreciated. PAT also has a very intrusive very creepy little dog that Vic does not trust with personal matters at all.

Raelian - Fast as shit. Like come on, she is faster than he is, she is taking his status as the humanoid blender. There is not bitterness there, really, he legitimately wants to see her fight more, and there’s some martial class solidarity there. There’s also the weird...ghost arms? Which are cool and also very weird. Raelian is someone he’s still working at figuring out, but it is probably a good thing to have someone else who’s into all the book research shit, especially if they need to break that spell.

(and the MIA kids, in shorter bits)

Ziggy - There are Very Complicated feelings around here. A genuine very good friend, and also a friend who just up and left with just a note to explain it. Jhe - She was...confusing. Bizarre. But also weirdly charming. And whatever she was, she did not deserve whatever it was that happened.

#THANK YOU BEE #WHAT GOOD QUESTIONS THESE ARE FUN #viconis #dreamteam #yahooanswer

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jennycalendar · 5 years

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imperfections (67/?)

read it on ao3!

it is Always nice to return to regularly updating this fic. makes me feel so goddamn accomplished.

One of the most majorly frustrating parts of being newly human was that, with her pendant smashed, Anyanka had lost all magical capabilities. Though she hadn’t always been a vengeance demon, she had always had magic within her, and having that stripped from her felt like an extra blow to her dignity. Still, even without magic, you could pick up on weird vibes, and Anyanka was getting some seriously unusual feelings every time she passed the library that housed the Hellmouth.

Something was brewing. Something big. And Anyanka didn’t like that concept one bit. She needed her necklace back before things went haywire, and—

“Anya!”

Anyanka jumped, then turned, schooling her expression into her best substitute-teacher smile. “Jenny,” she said, infusing as much warmth into the name as she could. Surprisingly, she actually liked Jenny—in another life, if some man had treated her poorly, the lady might have made an excellent vengeance demon. “It’s good to see you. Listen, I was wondering—”

“—about the spell?” Jenny finished, giving Anyanka a small, nervous smile as she stepped into the classroom. “Of course. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting—honestly, I’m probably being a little too overprotective. It’s just that—well, you know the old adage. Magic is a dangerous thing when done with strangers.”

“I’m not too much of a stranger, I hope!” said Anyanka in as injured a tone as possible, deciding to play up the “gentle-and-hurt-young-thing” that seemed to work wonders with the idiot Watcher boy. “If you can’t trust your coworkers, Jenny, who can you trust?”

But Jenny was looking at her in the same half-thoughtful way that those annoying little Slayers had studied her. Anyanka didn’t like this development. “Still,” she said, “I hope you’ll understand my reticence. Those kids mean a lot to me.”

“For god’s sake, Calendar,” said Anyanka, finally breaking. “I’m not asking for your help in a Satanic ritual, and I’m not asking you to murder babies. All I want is my damn necklace, and I don’t have enough magical talent to even cast the spell with you. You can look the spell over yourself—hell, you can even look at a diagram of my necklace, okay? Just cast the spell!”

It took her a moment to realize that she’d let her mask slip, and then she winced. Her bluntness had never gone over well with humans, and Jenny’s trust in her was already wavering. Already backtracking, Anyanka hastily sweetened her smile, then said, “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day and I—”

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you?” said Jenny conversationally.

Anyanka winced again, but kept her smile firmly plastered on. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not that good at pretending to be a sweet little ingénue,” said Jenny, who was grinning a little. “The key is, you know, not completely losing your temper when you don’t get exactly what you want. Also, you were a little heavy-handed with that whole not too much of a stranger, I hope—”

Anyanka scoffed, insulted. “I’ll have you know that that worked wonders in the Victorian era!” she huffed, then winced. “Um. Not…that I…would know?”

Jenny simply raised an eyebrow.

“Fine,” said Anya. “Yes. I am hiding something. But you know what, it is none of your business—”

“See, I think it kind of is,” said Jenny. “Because you were going to try and trick me into getting that necklace for a reason, right? And now that I know what you’re doing, I can take steps to make sure you don’t start turning to other people in this town for help.” She smiled, a small, thin, dangerous smile. “You don’t have to tell me your business,” she said, “but I think I’d like to know if you plan on hurting the people I care about.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” said Anya, infuriated.

“I don’t know,” said Jenny, and shrugged. “How badly do you want that necklace?”

God,��Anya resented being one-upped, and it was made worse by the fact that she couldn’t help admiring Jenny for it. Not a lot of humans could pull this kind of stuff on her. “Okay,” she said. “Fine. But if I tell you, you help me get my necklace back, because I am not just giving away personal information for free.”

Jenny considered this. “Okay,” she finally said. “As long as you’re honest with me about why you need it, and as long as it isn’t putting Rupert or my kids in danger.”

This seemed like a perfectly reasonable deal to Anyanka. Sure, she wouldn’t be able to restore Charlotte Emerson’s wish (rewriting this timeline might put Jenny and her charges in danger, and Anyanka was a demon—ahem, human—of her word), but she would have her powers back, and she’d missed them. “All right,” she said. “I’m a vengeance demon.”

Jenny’s eyes narrowed a little, but she nodded.

“Technically,” said Anyanka, “I’m pretty sure you guys are the reason I’m human. I granted a wish to Charlotte Emerson, and then there was a bit of a kerfuffle—”

“I remember that!” said Jenny suddenly. “In the grocery store! Faith said she saw you talking to her—that would have been when you granted her wish, right?”

Jenny was grasping this a whole lot quicker than Anyanka had anticipated. “Have you met vengeance demons before?” she asked curiously.

“My relatives are pretty big on vengeance,” said Jenny, shrugging. “I read up on different branches of supernatural vengeance in college.” She crossed her arms, studying Anyanka with something that seemed only a hair away from judgment. “I did promise I’d help you,” she said slowly, “but I want to make it clear that I don’t agree with your mission, and that I expect you to leave Sunnydale after this is over.”

Anyanka felt a twinge of sadness at that. Odd as it was, she liked Jenny—bits of the woman reminded her a little of a younger Hallie—and knowing that she’d lost Jenny’s good opinion stung more than she had expected it to. “Why would you help me, then?” she asked. “If you fundamentally disagree with vengeance as a concept?”

Jenny hesitated. Then she said, “I promised, and I’m a girl of my word. Me holding back on my promise just means that you’re going to look for some other way to get your necklace back, and I don’t want that way to come at the expense of the people I care about.”

“I can respect that,” said Anyanka, and meant it. She hesitated, then said, “Thank you, Jenny. This…it means a lot to me.”

Jenny exhaled. “Okay, now I gotta ask,” she said. “Why the hell would vengeance mean so much to you?”

Anyanka almost didn’t want to answer that one. But Jenny had been honest with her, and she felt like she should return the favor. “It’s not about the vengeance,” she said. “It’s about…” She trailed off. “I was hurt,” she said. “Badly. And now I get to be the one that hurts people, and I think I like that.”

Jenny nodded. Then she said, “I was hurt too. I don’t know if it was as badly as you, and I don’t think it’s my place to ask, but now I’m someone that makes sure no one else is ever hurt as badly as I was. I think I like that a little better than whatever it is you’ve got going.”

Anyanka wasn’t sure what she could say to that.

“I’ll help you with the spell,” said Jenny. “But I think I have one more condition.”

“Oh?�� said Anyanka.

“I think I want you to help us out today,” said Jenny, in the same careful voice Anyanka had heard her use on problem students. “Just today. And then I’ll cast the spell and you can go on your whole vengeance kick, but…” She trailed off. “I feel like I wouldn’t be doing the right thing,” she said, “if I didn’t at least give you one chance to try and help people.”

Obviously the idiot Watcher couldn’t be a part of any attempts to save the world, but Jenny and her group needed the library without interruptions—a problem easily solved by Anyanka asking Wesley out on a date right after school, one she had absolutely no intention of going on. As soon as it was clear that Wesley was headed well out of town to the address Anyanka had sent him, Jenny shepherded the marginally-less-idiotic Watcher and a ridiculous number of high schoolers into the library, motioning for Anyanka to follow.

So now Anyanka was sitting in on what a bunch of high schoolers called a “Scooby meeting,” watching as they all talked about some Polaroids of a dead member of the Sisterhood of Jhe like they didn’t know what it was. It took her a good forty-five minutes to realize that they actually didn’t know what it was, at which point she said with some exasperation, “That’s a member of the Sisterhood of Jhe,” and then had them all looking at her like she was some kind of savant. “What?” she said. “They screwed up a few of my wishes back in ’78, and I don’t forget a face.”

“So you just let us sit there guessing?” said the blonde slayer indignantly. The brown-haired slayer directed a murderous look at Anyanka.

Anyanka shot Brownie a murderous look right back. “It was blatantly obvious,” she retorted. “Anyone with half a brain should know about the Sisterhood!”

“Anya,” began Jenny.

“It is Anyanka!” said Anyanka, because they should have known that too! She was the only well-known vengeance demon that went by Anya on her time off. “Do any of you ever open a book in your free time?”

Giles opened his mouth, looking indignant; Jenny covered his mouth with her hand before he could speak. “Shush,” she told him. “The doctor says two more days and we’re adhering to that. Anyanka, can you tell us anything else about the Sisterhood of Jhe?”

“I don’t know,” said Anyanka petulantly. “Are you going to all yell at me just because I’m smarter than all of you?”

“Can I punch her?” said Brownie.

“I think I’d like to punch her too,” said Blondie.

“No punching,” said Jenny.

“Just tell us about the freaking Sisterhood so I can go home and fix my nails!” said Cordelia Chase, whose name Anyanka only knew because of annoyingly loud gossip in the hallways.

Anyanka obliged. “Apocalypse cult,” she said. “They’re here to try and end the world. Probably looking to open the Hellmouth, if their cave den is any indication. There’s way more of them than the ones you kids killed, though, so you should probably start preparing yourselves for that.” She leaned back in the chair, feeling extremely self-satisfied. “You know what, Jenny, you were right,” she said. “Helping people is fun.”

Jenny pressed a hand to her temple. “You’re really not helping, Anyanka,” she said. “You’re actually causing a whole bunch of problems.”

“How did she know all that stuff so fast?” demanded Cordelia’s boy toy.

“She’s a vengeance demon,” said Jenny. “Been around for centuries. She’s bound to pick a thing or two up.” She blushed a little. “Um. That is, according to Rupert.”

“Oh, is he doing that telepathy spell thing on you too?” said Blondie with interest.

“Does anyone else have any more questions?” said Anyanka. “That I can immediately and effortlessly answer?” She still very much intended to follow up on that necklace thing, but she was very much enjoying the fact that her long life had granted her enough wisdom to impress the mortals. “I know many things,” she added, “probably more than your obsolescent old Watcher and your airheaded new Watcher combined, though that still isn’t all that much—”

Giles was now beginning to look a little sad. Jenny was now beginning to look a little angry.

“Um, Ms. Jenkins?” said Willow tentatively. “I think you might want to stop. You’re starting to hurt people’s feelings.”

This took Anyanka by surprise. Hurt feelings had never been a thing she’d had to consider before. Shaking this off, she said somewhat impatiently, “Jenny, about that necklace—”

“We have bigger fish to fry,” said Jenny thinly. “Rupert, can you look up any and every mention of the Sisterhood of Jhe, see if they have any weaknesses? Buffy, Faith, I think we’re going to have to enlist Angel on this one. Everyone else, we’re going to be working on putting together an arsenal of weapons to use in the event that the Sisterhood does manage to open the Hellmouth.”

Anyanka didn’t like that she’d been so easily ignored. “Jenny,” she began, “don’t you want to ask me more questions?”

“Anya,” said Jenny. “As useful as your knowledge is, you’re only helping us out today. We can’t start depending on you to answer all our questions.”

Anyanka had never been depended on before. Anyanka was also beginning to realize that she had never been listened to before. “Well, I—I could help out with this one mission of yours,” she said. “Maybe. Seeing as all of you seem hell-bent on being as terrifyingly slow with your research as possible.”

“Aren’t you demons all about ending the world?” Cordelia said doubtfully.

“Spike wasn’t,” said Blondie thoughtfully.

Anyanka didn’t know what that meant, so she decided to answer Cordelia’s question. “If there’s no more world,” she said, “there’s no more vengeance, and I’m out of a job. At the very least, I can help all of you with this one crusade before it’s back to vengeance for me.”

“Just don’t undervalue Rupert’s contributions and we’re good,” said Jenny a little coolly.

It took Anyanka a moment to realize what Jenny meant. “Oh!” she said, then, “Your Rupert really is very bright, for a man. I didn’t mean to offend him.”

Giles looked a little wryly amused by this, but not quite as hurt. Strangely, the fact that she’d made someone smile, instead of cry, or rage, or scream, made Anyanka feel…not unpleasant. She filed this feeling away to examine at a later date.

#fic #imperfections #lots of anya because i love anya

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strengthandvigour · 6 years

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Open|| The meeting at Nevrast

Spring arrived, and the beauty of nature was reborn. The flowers were in full blossom, and they cast a sweet fragrance in the morning airs. Thankfully, it was not a particularly warm day since a soft breeze blew on Tuor’s face as he stood on the bank of Linaewen, the lake of Nevrast with the crystal clear waters, upon which the sunrays reflected most majestically. It was truly a wonderful day of spring, and he really liked that.

Tuor loved exploring Nevrast, the land his foster father had once talked about. He knew that he was supposed to go to the shores of Belegaer, where the truth would be revealed to him but he tarried at Nevrast because this land was so beautiful during springtime. And he knew that he was safe there since the orcs ignored this place because it was not populated by anyone anymore. He wished to stay there forever.

But it turned out that he was not so alone for Tuor suddenly saw a person approaching him, a person who was fair of face, but he did not know whether this person was an elf or a mortal man. But it was blatantly obvious that they were a kind person, Tuor could tell that by a look on their face. JHe always knew when someone else was a good person. He smiled kindly at them, and he greeted them with politeness.

#open starter #open rp #tolkien rp #silmarillion rp

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thevaudevillescene · 5 years

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Me: What do I want to have for dinner toni-

[Laurel comes around the bar, wraps her arm around my waist, drags me to the soda room, pins me against the wall and kisses me]

Me: Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot it is when you’re assertive like this?

Laurel: I know, babe. I look in your eyes and I see that you’re liquid all the way down. I own you, basically. The second we make eye contact I’m like, “Aaand you’re mine.”

Me: God, it’s true. You look at me and it’s like, I feel like you’re gonna eat me alive, and I look forward to it? If that makes sense. Like I’ve never wanted anything more.

———

[Later, Laurel comes around the bar and taps my arm; I follow her to the bathroom, where she throws me against the door as it’s closing and it slams shut and echoes, then she kisses me again]

Laurel: I have been DYING inside all night, waiting to be able to do this. I know our self-control’s been better lately, but I couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry.

Me: Don’t be sorry, are you nuts?

Laurel: Well, I mean, technically I am, babe.

Me: Shut up.

———

[After work, Laurel, Vic and I are standing outside while Laurel tells a story about Jhes]

Vic: ...Isn’t it insane how shit works out?

Laurel: Huh?

Vic: Just, like, life, y’know? You meet certain people, and there’s that connection that you haven’t felt with anyone else, and sometimes, there’s, like, circumstances that kept you from meeting that person sooner, but then when you do meet them, it’s like shit just all falls into place, y’know? And you get it. You get why it didn’t work out before with other people, because you finally meet someone who really gets you.

[Laurel is confused; Vic looks at me]

Vic: You get it, right? You know what I mean? And you know WHO I mean?

Me: A hundred percent, dude. I’m following you. You’re absolutely right. It’s wild how things work out. Sometimes it’s the people you least expect who wind up meaning the most to you.

———

[I’m giving Laurel a ride home]

Me: I’m pretty sure Vic knows, babe.

Laurel: Knows what?

Me: About us.

Laurel: Nah, he doesn’t suspect anything.

Me: You’re right, he doesn’t suspect shit. That motherfucker KNOWS. All that stuff he was saying was about us, sweetheart.

Laurel: ...Was it?

Me: Yep!

Laurel: I was so confused, I was like, “I’m telling a story about Jhes being a bag of dicks, why’s he talking about life all of a sudden?” He meant- he meant me dating Jhes and you being friends with her and then meeting me, and then us hitting it off and winding up falling for each other? [She thinks about it] Oh, yeah. That IS what he was saying.

Me: [Fondly] Oh, baby. You’re an idiot.

#lilies and sunflowers

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titleknown · 6 years

Photo

Well, first off, the Box People. They're kinda like pigeons if ya look at 'em the right way. They ain't too scary if you leave 'em alone, they're just kinda... there. Just these weird hands pokin out of boxes and eyes, lookin out. It's all kindsa hands too. Ghoul hands, lizard hands, shadow hands, you know the drill.

I saw a lot of 'em when I was plannin out the route of this city. They just lookit ya, sometimes shuffle along. I looked up the places I saw 'em at, for funzies, and holy shit there's a lot o dead homeless around those parts. By neglect, and the other ways. The other ways that I try to punch in the face before they do it. Like, I do what I can to protect 'em, but, starfish and seashores and all that crap.

But, they're there and they're harmless if you are too. But the gentrification fuckers, the ones who do jack shit for the neighborhood except bring up the rents, and call 311 on your fuckin neighbors like dipshits and you gotta tell 'em “Hey, lay off with the 311 calls or imma fuckin beat ya,” fuck those fucking fuckers and-

Fuck, I got sidetracked. Anyway, they get their asses kicked in by 'em all the time. Like, a few months ago, I saw this one dude, hipster moustache dipshit, just kickin one in an alley.

It didn't move, didn't strike back, jhe just laughed at me, threw a bottle of some shitty hipster-mead at me, kept kickin even harder. I think he started pissin on it at that point.

I woulda knocked his block off if the thing hadn't pulled him in first. And then it just disappeared into one o the alley shadows.

When they found the fucker's body cubed up like a car in a tiny cardboard box, can't say I was surprised. Or that I didn't feel any shadyfranken or whatever the hell ya all it.

There was a whole gaggle of 'em a week ago, in this abandoned factory. Got asked by the cops to help; it’s the part that deals with the supernatural shit

Where they dump the good people so the rest of 'em can get on with important shit; like bein dickheads to black people and taking horseshit speeding tickets to raise money for the Mayor's asshole-waxing.

But I told 'em the story before, n they let 'em be. Yanno, I said they're like pigeons, but it's probably more like that than ya'd think.

Smarter people'n me have said the pigeons used to be people's pets. We let 'em out, abandoned them, they go all weird and we call 'em pests. I wonder if this is what happens to people like that. That might be why the pigeons seem to do stuff for ‘em. But, that ain’t here or there.

Anyhoo, IDK what they're buildin in there. But, it it's the somethin I think there's somethin to, I ain't worried. It ain't gonna hit anybody we actually like, and the people they do...

I think we can just agree: Fuck 'em.

SO YEAH, this is the part one of my Challenge, for Gothic Horror! Specifically, the Box People are based on our mistreatment of the homeless as a society, how we neglect them and yet despise the signs of our neglect.

The use of them for super-cheap on film would; of course; just be an actor in a box, maybe with some off-the-shelf monster claws/sleeves for their arms or lenses for their eyes if you’re feelin fancy.

As with most of my other stuff, these creatures and this story are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY-Vanilla license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

And, if you wanna support me, maybe check out my Patreon, or even just send a Ko-Fi my way! Every penny is appreciated, and I am eternally grateful for those who donate!

So yeah, we’ll keep this train a-rollin, with Part 2 sooner than you think!

#open species #worldbuilding #open source character #open source characters #homelessness #gothic horror

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a-sad-excuse-of-everything · 6 years

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Awake Part One

Keith x reader

summary: one member of the team has some serious baggage from back on earth, and decides to leave for good

Warnings: mentions of suicide, kidnapping, arranged marriage, and a finger getting smashed

2,154 words, and a part two coming soon!

“Screw it.”

It was a dark and dry night in the Castle of Lions, and a key member was fed up. Deciding this life was not for them, they planned out an escape plan and decided to leave for good. The thoughts in their head too strong, and an internal suffering so subtle to the outside that no one noticed their demise. Stuffing clothes, their suit, and other important objects into their bags, they left a note and some smudged blood, and escape out the window. (Y/N) (L/N) hoped to disappear from her team that night, and it worked, almost.

Three years had passed since that night, and all was well with our team. They had happened upon a day off and decided to go out into a random, unpopulated, planet to adventure about. Everyone was excited to get out of their aircraft and onto some sort of solid ground. Lance was eager to go, packing lots of water and snacks along with Hunk, who happened to be doing the same. Keith was silent as ever and tucked into his very own area with a small bag full of necessities to go out by himself. Pidge was fiddling with some sort of electronic gps to keep track of their team, and Shiro was checking up on the planet and doing the proper research needed to know how to get around easily. They all had on their protective armor, but ditched the helmets due to the planet having a breathable atmosphere safe for the human kind.

Soon enough, they had landed, and upon opening the door Lance shot out like a bullet leaving the rest of his team behind. Shiro, being a spacedad, sighed at his ‘child's’ behavior and left him to have his consequences and turned towards the more collected team left.

Pulling a gloved hand through his rooster like hair, Siro looked towards his team and spoke.

“This planet is quite interesting, but be careful. It seems to have some animals living on it, so prepare for predators. Keep your gps’s on hand, the jungle is quite dense. Be back by twelve.”

Nodding, the team branched off into their separate groups and walked their own ways. Keith to the west, Pidge and Hunk to the east, Shiro to the North, and Lance to the south. We shall follow our hero Keith on this expedition.

The black haired teen had a lot to think about at the moment. Being more introverted, he decided to take out his worries in a lot of alone time to process the best ways to react to whatever had happened. His team was so bright and cheerful all the time, so having time completely alone in a new place was refreshing and quite calming. Letting the scowl on his face fall, he dug his feet into the soil and took a deep breath in. cracking his neck, he looked determined at the path ahead and started to briskly walk though.

The forest around him was quite dense and thick, a small path, most likely made by an animal before him, twisted and turned around the large trees and exotic flower bushes that surrounded his figure. To be honest, he quite liked nature when alone, and enjoyed walking to the sounds of birds chirping above him. His peace was interrupted, however, by a beeping coming from his bag. Grabbing it and opening it lazily, he picked up the lit up object under his first aid kit, the gps.

Lifting the object up, he unlocked the screen and peered into the LED display. Eyes widening slightly, he saw an extra dot on the device.

Each dot was color coded so you could easily tell which team was wich on the screen, but something else was there as well. Farther down the island, by what looked like a lagoon-ish area, was a purple one, something he had not seen in a long time. Jhe tried to shake it off and put his gps back into his bag and continued marching along, but something kept nagging at his conscience. The gps these things tracked was implanted mandatorily into their suits, their Voltron suits, so it was impossible that it was you. The note (Y/N0 left stated that they jumped into a river nearby the castle, and an unidentified body had been found, too mangld to see if it was theirs. It was impossible that they were alive and on this island, but it gave him something to do.

Keeping the gps out with him on his walk, Keith started heading for the beachside through the thick jungle. His walk seemed to be calm and peaceful, but the poor guys head was spinning. He couldn't help but think of them. (Y/N) was his best friend, and knew everything about him. They were often his shoulder to cry on, or person to talk to in times of struggle for him. Having (Y/N) gone took a huge toll on him, and since thier death he had become more reclusive and angry, lashing out far more than when they were around. He sighed, feeling guilty that he never helped them with their problems, but took on the burden of his. He shook his head and continued to observe the land around him.

As he walked, the path seemed to get wider and wider, like there was more frequent use to it. The soil was packed down, and had faint footprints followed the path more and more to the side. As he continued to walk, his heels sinking deeper into the soil for the slow introduction of sand, the tree barriers got thinner and thinner and soon he could see a beautiful ocean lining a beach of white sand. It was quite a beautiful sight to see, especially since the planet had not been touched by nad civilisations to ruin it. Deciding to investigate more, he walked towards the crystal blue water and dug his feet into the hot sand lining it.

He looked at the water that was clear to the bottom, and he smiled slightly at the sight of small fish trying to nibble on his toes. He breathed in the fresh and air, but stopped. Behind him a faint rustling could be heard in the bushes. Turning around, he slowly approached the shrub, guard up. Finally, pushing back the bush quickly, he saw a bunny frozen in place. Sighing and thinking he was silly for worrying so much, he turned around swiftly. Taking a step forward, he stopped when a loud crunch sounded under his foot. Looking down, he silently yelled at himself for stepping on such a vital part of this adventure. He picked up the now crushed gps and dropped it after, deeming it useless. Maybe Pidge would have been able to fix it, but he could not. Checking the time he realized that they had quite a few hours and heading back to the ship would be boring. This was one of three stops they had made on their entire journey, so he did not want to waste more time on a ship. Deciding it was safe to trek forward due to a ath being clearly visible and leading back to the ship, Keith kept walking across the shoreline, mind far from where it began.

Another hour of walking had passed, and pretty soon the shore was starting to end. Keith wanted to continue walking, and his prayers were answered when he saw a somewhat hidden doorway behind some shrubs and bushes. It looked old and musty, like it was untouched for many years. The palm wood door had jagged yet elegant carvings in it, making him more and more curious.Keith knew this could be a trap, and potentially dangerous, but curiosity is a powerful thing. Why was his best friends suit in there? He looked down, debating contacting his team about the subject. He felt selfish at the time, however, and refused. If he were to see something of his dead best friend (Y/N), he was going to see it first and alone. Guard up and trust down, he put his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it.

Getting in was not as easy as you would think. The door was rusty and crusted, not too easy to open. Once that was open, he creaked open the door cautiously and peered inside. It was dark, but a singular lightbulb hung from the ceiling of the dwelling, illuminating the rather large space. First of all, everything was clean. No dust touched any place, and it was extremely organized . Tools homemade and artificially made hung from hooks on the wall, pots and pans lined shelves near a cooking area. A table sat by a homemade window looking out onto the sea, and a workbench in the corner was covered in blueprints and drawings.

Keith had realised he had stumbled into someones dwelling, but nothing could stop him now. Seeing a doorway blocked by a curtain in the corner. He immediately headed towards the door, ignoring the other curious objects and inventions around him. As his feet sunk into the soft soil below, he drew his hand out and pushed aside the beads, gasping when he saw inside. He fell backwards in shock, surprised at what he had seen. Getting back up, and brushing the dirt off of his suit, he opened the curtain fully, peering inside curiously. He took a few steps forward, not believing his eyes.

Inside was what seemed like a sea cave of sort. Though small, it was large enough to rival a two doored garage or something of the sort. He took a step on the rocky ground, marveling at his beautiful surroundings. His eyes darted around feverishly, eyes landing in the corner of the cave setting. His breath hitched in his throat, and he sprinted over to a mannequin in the corner.

A purple body suit hung there peacefully, a sight he used to be so familiar with seeing. The hole in the ceiling of the cave seemed to shine in all the right places, the chrome glittering in what little sunlight the clothing got. In awe he touched the thing, lifting the sleeve and seeing the bloodstain from when you had just become paladins.

Living together was an experience, and (Y/N) happened to be a huge bookworm. Shelves were a must have, and many large bookshelves were full to the brim. A project one, rare, but free Saturday the duo set to work shoving some shelves into the free wallspace where so books dared to stay.

“Keith, hand me the nails, your too slow.”

He shook his head, looking back at them. “No way, your way too clumsy.”

(Y/N) shook their head and sighed, yanking the hammer and nails out of his hands and gently shoving him off of the chair he was stood on. Supporting themselves on the wall with their non dominant hand, (Y/N) brought the hammer back and slammed it into the wall, and missed, slightly smashing their middle finger.

He chuckled at the memory, remembering their comedic scream and the collapse. Also figuring out they always had cheetah print band-aids on hand.

His reminiscing was cut short when he heard a crunch behind him, swiftly turning around, Keith happened to knock over the suit, triggering some sort of trap. The rock below had turned into gravel, and a net soon enclosed the angsty teen around ten feet from the ground.

What in the world had he got himself into?

The net was quite a tight fit to be honest with you, and any slight movement was a force to be reckoned with. He jerked his body every which way and tried to wiggle into a new position to find a way out, but the net seemed to be coated with some sort of natural adhesive. He groaned knowing this was going to take awhile.

It had felt like hours had passed, and through a crack in the wall he had seen that the night sky had turned dark. He had tried several times after to move and alert his team of his situation, but nothing seemed to work. He wondered what his team was up to, and if they were looking for him at this hour. His thoughts were stopped when a loud clatter was heard behind him. He tried to look over his shoulder, and after enough trying he could see (Y/N).

A skinnier, taller, version of them to say the least. Fruits and produce was scattered across the floor as they ran towards the net with a pocketknife. Slicing the ropes Keith fell to the ground and rubbed his head, looking up once more. They stood in silence for a while, the echoes of water droplets falling into the water being the only disturber.

How are they not dead?

#keith kogane #voltron x reader #voltron #keith x reader #keith cogane x reader #reader insert

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