#may my skeleton serve you well

[denaliwrites]

Little Creepy House

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Attic"

Summary: The Doctor really doesn't like attics. Unfortunately, that's where the alien of the week is.

Soundtrack: Walking on Air by Kerli

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oh, no," the Doctor groaned from behind you. "Why'd it have to be an attic?"

Indeed, the two of you, as well as the owner of the house (and the mother of the missing child you and the Doctor were looking for), were looking up into the dark hole in the ceiling that fed into the house's attic.

Even you had to admit that, staring into that deep dark shadowy black, you were a little nervous too.

Unlike the Doctor, though, you didn't hesitate to climb up the rickety set of wooden steps leading up. Your head popped up over the threshold, eyes scanning the dark quickly before you hauled the rest of you into the room.

"Bethy?" you called out into the dark. Everything sounded... strangely muffled, up here. Your voice didn't reach nearly as far as you expected, and when you heard the Doctor say your name, you swore it sounded like he was speaking through cotton.

"Bethy?" you tried again, louder, more alert now that you knew you had to really make an effort to hear things up here.

Which... was a little odd, wasn't it? You knew attics were sometimes creepy, full of dust and ancient furniture and vintage chests with skeletons in their wedding dresses stuck inside them.

But you'd never heard of a noise-canceling attic.

You were so busy thinking and listening that you forgot to keep an eye on your feet. Something in your path tripped you up and nearly sent you flying. Wheeling around, however, revealed that nothing was there.

Okay, but you knew the difference between tripping on an object and tripping on air -- there had definitely been something there a moment ago. You may not have seen it, but it had to exist somewhere in the vicinity.

A shiver cascaded down your spine in a way that reminded you of the time the Mean Girl in your class had dropped an ice cube down your shirt. In fact, you were pretty sure that the shiver even left behind a trail of cold sweat that only served to further mimic the memory.

"Doctor?" you called, turning back.

Wait, where was the entrance?

There should've been a glowing beacon of light emanating from behind you, but instead, just pure darkness greeted you. Enveloped you. Made you want to cry out for your mother.

"Oh, fuck this place," you growled to yourself, facing ahead and forging on, steps as determined as they were unsure.

"Bethy?" you shouted again after a minute or so, hoping that somehow it'd reach her this time.

Only silence greeted you at first, but then --

"Mom?" a tiny voice cried out, and you spun in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Mom?" the voice cried again. You swiftly turned to your left and all but ran ahead, not even caring what danger may lay in wait for you.

"Hey, hey, hey," you said comfortingly as you got nearer to where, to the best of your abilities, you'd calculated the voice was coming from. "I'm not your mom, but she sent me. I'm here to take you back to her, okay? You can come out, it's safe."

You thought maybe you'd been wrong, or that the girl had run away, or maybe that she was just considering her options, but only a moment later a small body launched at you like a missile and hit your body with force. Tiny arms circled your hips, and a scared voice whimpered into your shirt. You could hear sniffles, too.

Kneeling down to the girl's level, you pulled her into a hug and whispered comforting nothings for a moment. She needed a parent -- her mother, to be precise. But you were the best she had for now, so it was up to you to fill in the gap.

"Hey, it's okay," you told her, pulling away so that you could look her in the eyes, your hands gripping her shoulders firmly. "We're going to get out of here, and you're going to see your mom and give her a big hug. And I'm gonna see my friend and give him a big hug. Yeah?"

She nodded, trying to contain her sniffles while she wiped away her tears.

"Say it, Bethy. C'mon."

"Yeah."

"That's a girl. Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."

You stood and took her hand, then turned to face the direction you thought you'd maybe come from.

Well, that wasn't good, was it?

Unwilling to show your fear to the girl, you marched on ahead, gently tugging her along with you. For a while, the two of you were silent as you tried to navigate the dark. Then --

"Hide!"

And then Bethy was gone, quicker than you could even process what had happened. "Bethy?" you called, feeling panic rising in your chest. "Bethy? That's not funny -- where the fuck did you go!?"

There was no answer. At least, not from Bethy.

You could hear something, though, lurching closer. Each muffled, thunking step was accentuated by a rattling breath and a growing sense of dread. Suddenly, you understood why Bethy had told you to hide.

Instead of even trying to do that, though, your body stood frozen, eyes locked on a looming shape in the darkness.

A pathetic moan spilled from your lips as the thing moved closer, and you could finally see details -- though you wished you couldn't.

Its body was an ever-shifting mass of shadows, rippling and roiling. You could see limbs -- arms and legs of flesh, but they were unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The legs reminded you of Godzilla with how thick and heavy they seemed, while the arms -- well, if you had your wits properly about you, you would've compared them to a crab. One arm was massive and ended in a sickle-like claw, while the other was significantly smaller, and looked more like a proper arm -- though the fingers were also claws, just... smaller.

And its face was...

Well, you screamed when you saw it.

The scream was short-lived, cutting off as soon as its massive claw lifted menacingly into the air.

Oh, God, this is where I die, you thought. You weren't going to save Bethy, you were never going to see the Doctor again, or your parents, or anyone in your family, or your friends, or -- or anyone. Anything.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," a voice pierced through the darkness, the void, the hollow silence. It sounded dangerous. And it sounded an awful lot like the Doctor.

The claw froze in the air, no doubt only in hesitation, but a moment of hesitation was all you needed to move, to dive for cover somewhere far from that terrible, awful thing.

"That's better," the Doctor said from... somewhere. You weren't sure. Frankly, you kind of didn't even want to know. All you could say for sure was that, for this moment right now, you were safely hidden under a table, which just so happened to be covered with a white sheet, giving you an extra layer of security.

"Now, why are you in some poor single mother's attic, terrorizing her daughter?" the Doctor asked. All he received in response was the suffocating silence of this godforsaken room.

You heard the sound of the sonic screwdriver. The alien, or creature, or whatever it was, finally made a sound -- you thought it might've been a growl. It sounded... like rocks grinding together, but... garbled. Muffled. Like you were hearing it in impossibly deep water.

Your instincts told you to keep quiet, to be silent as the grave. Even quieter, actually, if that was possible.

That deep, gurgling growl, though. It sent such an intense wave of fear through you that you couldn't help the pitiful moan that came out.

There was a shuffle, followed by one of those awful feet stamping the ground. The alien had turned around.

"Oh, I really wish you hadn't done that," the Doctor sighed. "Run!"

You didn't need to be told twice. Where you were running to was a problem for future you, all you knew for the moment was that you needed to get the fuck away from that thing.

You only stopped running when something in the path tripped you and sent you flying towards the floor. You braced for impact, but other than a sharp hiss, you didn't acknowledge the pain. Instead, you turned sharply and grabbed at the thing that had tripped you.

Your hand wrapped around something cool and smooth, and when you drew it closer you saw that it was the leg of an old ceramic doll. Creepy, but harmless. But that didn't explain how it had disappeared earlier.

The wail it released sure did, though.

You shrieked in return, throwing the doll away into the darkness in fright. "What the fuck," you sobbed, "what the fuck. What the fuck?"

Only silence answered you.

Apparently, you'd run far enough away in this impossibly infinite attic that the alien could no longer hear you. Or the silence was so oppressive that even at near distances sound still couldn't pierce through.

Neither option seemed great, to be honest.

Regardless, though, you had to press on.

Rounding a corner, you were suddenly confronted with Bethy. She was facing away from you, looking down a corridor formed from stacks of boxes and furniture. You said her name quietly to let her know you were near. Big, terrified eyes turned back to look at you and she quickly beckoned you to join her.

You obeyed, crouching once you reached her side and looking down the corridor with her.

"It's the dolls," she whispered, pointing. You could just make out small shapes shifting in the darkness. "They won't let us through."

You sucked in a deep breath and released it as a sigh. "Don't worry," you told her, moving to a stand. "I got this."

Acting blithely unaware of your surroundings as you neared where you'd seen the dolls was surprisingly easy as, for the most part, you were rather unaware. However, your ears were honed into any slight sound that could possibly arise from those creepy little fuckers.

So when, miraculously, you caught the scratching of their little porcelain feet on the attic floor, you froze, geared up, and sent a powerful kick in the direction of the sound.

And you were met with the satisfying shatter of its stupid porcelain head.

More sounds started up, no doubt the assault on one had sent the others into a panic. But you were keyed in, and out for blood. Stomping, smashing, and crushing them was like a sport, and at the end of the match you'd destroyed about eight of them, and silence surrounded you.

"Bethy?" you called. "It's safe to come out now."

There was a quiet shuffling, and then Bethy was beside you, clinging to your arm to the point that it hurt. But you said nothing -- you were scared, too, and would probably cling to the Doctor the same way if he were there.

The two of you made your way through the attic, desperate for... well, anything, really. You were sure Bethy wanted the exit, and while you wouldn't say no to that, you were more interested in finding the Doctor.

You felt like you'd been walking for hours when you finally stumbled on the man himself. He was breathless, no doubt from running, but he grinned when he saw you. "There you are!" he said by way of greeting, pulling you into a hug. Then his eyes caught on Bethy, and he knelt down to her level. "And there you are! Your mum is gonna be very happy to see you."

If you ever made it out of this attic, anyway.

The Doctor made a sound at the back of his throat, and when you redirected your attention to him, you saw that he was looking at you rather seriously. "Any ideas?" he asked, eyes flitting for a moment to look at something behind you.

You felt the overwhelming sense of dread growing, and the fear kept you locked in place, unable to look back.

"No," you whimpered.

The Doctor moved closer, taking your face in your hands and forcing you to look into his eyes. "Hey," he said soothingly, smiling. You moaned in response. "Oh, now, none of that. C'mon. Be brave for me, yeah?"

Fear clouded your mind, and you could feel the thing behind you, could sense that claw hovering over you, ready to strike. But as the Doctor spoke, as more and more words of encouragement washed over you, the feeling started to recede.

And with it, you felt the monster retreating.

"K-keep talking," you told the Doctor urgently.

And he did, and you took his every word in, believed every word. As he spoke, and you listened, not only was the monster retreating but the darkness and silence followed it. You were starting to hear things -- birds chirping, a car driving by. A plane overhead. And you could see light beginning to filter in from... somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere?

All you really saw, though, was the Doctor.

He was grinning -- no, beaming at you.

"Look at you," he said, voice brimming with pride. "Defeating a monster that feeds off fear and isolation."

You released a relieved giggle. "No, that was all you."

"Oh, it wasn't," he told you, his eyes looking into yours. "My words would've meant nothing if you hadn't trusted me. If you hadn't believed me."

"Of course I trust you."

His grin broadened and he let out a breathy chuckle. "That's good, then. That you trust me. We would've been in a lot of trouble if you didn't."

You laughed. "I'd probably be dead."

"We can't have that," he said, suddenly serious again. For a moment you thought maybe the monster was back, but you blinked and when you opened your eyes, he was smiling again. "No dying on my watch, got it?"

"Trust me, I do not have any plans on doing that any time soon."

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant #canon typical peril #catch and release prompt #i wont say the alien in this fic is the dredge from dead by daylight #but i will say #its heavily inspired by the dredge from dead by daylight

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon "Ghost" Riley X

Medic!Reader (Part 7)

Word Count - 4.7K

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn. This chapter describes scenes that some people may find disturbing, such as war crimes, mutilation, and death.

A/N - This chapter is tuff ngl.

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3  ❤︎ Part 3.5  ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 6

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

“Better,” Ghost said from somewhere at your side, his attention divided by watching you practice your throwing knife skills and cleaning his rifle, “But stop flicking your wrist, it’s unnecessary.” 

Since you arrived here Ghost had dedicated a surprising amount of time to teaching you how to throw a knife. Your aim was still off and you had the occasional miss, but you were improving. He’s had you standing in front of the piece of wood for the last hour throwing the knives he’s so graciously let you borrow, picking them up and doing it all over again. He was a good teacher, but a tough one. Not even you could be spared from his hazing lectures of form and technique. And on more than one occasion you stomped off on him in frustration, only to sheepishly return after some time to restart after cooling off. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him, your expression bored, “Are you even watching?” 

“Yes. Now, throw,” he instructed, dark eyes flicking up to you, and when he saw that you were still looking at him he twirled his finger in a “turn” gesture. 

With a sigh, you turn back around and aim at the center of the target painted into a wooden board. You lined yourself up, your tongue instinctively sticking out, a habit you had since you were a child when in focus, and threw the blade. The handle banged off the board and clanged to the ground. 

“I just told you to stop flicking your wrist,” he commented as he slid ammo into one of his magazines. 

You spun on him, annoyance twinging your tone “You come over here and throw one.” 

He placed the magazine on the table beside him and strode towards you with a confidence you envied, plucked the blade right out of your hand and threw it. It embedded itself deep into the wood. Right in the middle. He held his hand out for another. Again, it landed in the middle with a satisfying thud. Impressively close to the first. He threw two more and only one of them wasn’t a bullseye instead it landed in the next ring. 

You clicked your tongue, “Alright,” you pushed him back towards his guns and ammo, “Go away.” 

For the last two days, it’s done nothing but storm, and everyone has taken shelter in the warehouse where there was still a working heater. But now that the nightly meeting and dinner had been served, everyone was headed back for the bunks for the night. The emotions have been running high the last few days and the weather was making it even harder to get things done. Soap was trying his best to keep up morale, but even he grew weary of waiting. Price and Gaz had gone on recon today to check out the town and came back with the news that the military was pulling out. Laswell was less than thrilled to have the entire team invading her space while she tried to work. 

She, out of all of you, felt the pressure the most.  

Tonight it was your turn to take the night watch, and Ghost stayed behind until midnight to keep you company. He even went on the few patrols he was with you for, “You never talk about your family,” Ghost clutched at his rifle as he strolled beside you, purposefully shortening his stride so you could keep up.

“Well, I could say the same about you,” you knock your shoulder into him, trying to come off as playful but in truth the last thing you wanted to do was unpack the fuckery that was your family. 

“That’s because I’ve got skeletons in my closet,” he shrugged, seemingly nonchalant about it. You’ve become accustomed to his casual attitude; where normal people would become skittish with that type of admission, he wasn’t. 

You hummed, inching closer to him. Even in the rain his body heat radiating from him. 

“Well,” you started, chewing on the inside of your cheek as unease rippled through your gut, “My parents divorced when I was sixteen. My mother is the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She used to take me to the theatres every Sunday for the matinee.” 

“And your father?” He asked carefully, sensing your hesitation on the matter. His attention was on you but he made it less intense by looking off into the darkened shadows of the trees beyond the fences. 

“He’s…” your throat narrowed at the memory of him, of his hardened face and emotionless eyes, “He’s the worst man I’ve ever met. And I was his favourite,” you wrung your fingers, the tips of them going numb from the cold air, “He’s estranged now and I haven’t heard from since the divorce.” A lie. You knew exactly where and what he was doing. You also knew he kept a close eye on you and yours. “My mom has since remarried. To a guy she went to high school with, it’s quite adorable,” 

“Any siblings?” He asked as he opened the door to the warehouse for you. He didn’t push for more information, understanding that were some things better left unsaid.

“Two,” your heart skipped a beat, “Both significantly older. But one of them died when I was in high school. A car accident,” you didn’t give any more detail than that. Didn’t think you could handle dredging up old wounds. 

You silently thanked Simon for not giving you a half-hearted “I’m sorry” at the mention of your dead brother.

You told him about your childhood friends, and about the sports you played. You told him about how your brothers used to have epic fights in the backyard, and how one of them had ended with your father making them run laps at the track until one of them collapsed and the other threw up all over the grass. 

Ghost quietly listened, adding little comments here and there. He just liked hearing you talk and would sit here for hours completely content with doing just that. 

As soon as the clock struck twelve a yawn interrupted him mid-sentence and you sent him off to bed. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll keep out of trouble. But you were up last night for your watch, you need to sleep,” you shooed him out the door. Before stepping out the door he turned to you, bending down to catch your lips with his. It was a quick, innocent gesture, and the boyish grin of his that accompanied it was even more so. 

The rest of the night was fairly tame, but your raincoat never seemed to dry and you were forever cold. Gaz had pulled out a space heater at some point but even that couldn’t seem to thaw your frozen bones and muscles. What you really wanted was a hot shower. Or even better, a bath. You’d grown weary of the cold showers. 

The silence and isolation of the night watch were welcomed. It gave you time to think and to work through your ever-flowing thoughts and emotions. You were beginning to wonder what comes after this. If you were labelled as deserters, would they just “let” you get back to your normal job once you exposed Spector? There were so many questions and you were too afraid to find out what the answers would be. Would anyone even believe you guys? 

You spent the rest of the night trying to distract yourself before you found yourself spiralling. You reorganized the makeshift kitchen area, sewed a rip in your jacket pocket, and read the first few chapters of a particularly boring book Gaz had brought with him. You had quickly become thankful for the hourly strolls outside.     

“What are you doing up?” You asked, setting your rifle down, having done a patrol. It was a little past 4 am when you returned to find Soap lounging on one of the chairs at the makeshift table. 

His cheery blue eyes found yours, “Thought I’d come and keep you company.” 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you took a seat across from him, fiddling with a propane lamp before lighting it. 

He yawned and stretched out his arms above him, “Have you been able to?”    

You shook your head. Truth is, you haven’t had a good sleep since you got blown up. You grabbed a deck of cards someone had left on the table for everyone to use, “You shuffle,” you said, handing it to him. With practiced hands, he shuffled and dealt out a hand of canasta. 

He won the first round, and he sighed, “One more game, I’m starting to feel bad for you.”  

“Laswell find anything?” you asked. Laswell had left to meet up with one of her contacts and wasn’t going to be coming back until tomorrow.

“Not really,” he scratched at the growing beard on his face, and exchanged a card from his hand, “She’s stressing. So is Price.” 

“I don’t blame them,” you murmured. If you were going to ask anyone and not fear that they’d think you a doormat, you were going to ask Soap, “Are we still going to have our jobs once we figure all this out?”  

He blinked at you, “Our job?” then his expression softened in realization. You’d been uncharacteristically recluse these last few days and everyone had noticed it. And Soap was just relieved to have finally understood why that was, “When we find that bastard Spectator and pull his pants down in front of the brasses we’ll be handed medals.” He leaned back in his chair and it creaked against his weight, “There are, of course, probably going to be some legal measures that will need to be addressed, but when are there not? A few years back we were being hunted down by every allied force for ‘espionage’.” He rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea. “We’ve got our hands tied behind our backs a few times, and yet they haven’t gotten rid of us.” 

The looming misery that had been breathing down your neck for the last few weeks backed off at his answer.     

“That makes this a little less stressful,” You wished there was more you could do, but none of this was your specialty. “You want tea?” the chill you developed from your patrols was becoming unbearable. You got up to heat up water in a pot on the propane stove before he could answer. 

“Absolutely,” he replied. 

You turned back towards him just in time to catch him trying to peek at your cards, “Are you joking?” you threw up your hands in disbelief. You’ve played a lot of cards with Soap in the last two weeks, and never once did you win against him. Now you know why. You tossed a tea bag at him.

He slid back into his seat with a sheepish grin. 

“I’m not making you tea anymore,” you glowered over at him, “You can make your own.”

You cracked open the door to take a peek outside. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the ground sodden with water. It smelt like fresh earth. An hour later Ghost joined the two of you, claiming that Price was snoring so loud that he woke up thinking someone was attacking him with a chainsaw. Soap asked if he cared for a game of cards to which he curtly replied with a very stern, very definitive “No, you little crook.” 

After a brief discussion, you and Ghost decided it would be as good a time as ever to check in on the town. He wanted to scope it out to see if the military had pulled out yet. You wanted to check in on the school. 

The drive into the town was silent, the pit of your stomach was turned inside out. Your intuition screamed at you that something was wrong. 

Thick fog clung to the trees and made the drive more unsettling.  

A strange pungent smell invaded the cab of the truck a few miles back from the town. It smelt like smoke and something else you couldn’t place a finger on. The smell got stronger and stronger the closer you got, to the point where you shoved your nose into the collar of your shirt. 

“Ugh,” your eyes began to water, “What is that?” 

A large dark form lay on the side of the road as you turned a corner and Ghost slowed the vehicle, his hand dropping to the pistol at his thigh.   

So he feels the unease too. 

That thought alone was alarming. 

As you rolled forward confusion clouded your thoughts. The corpse of a horse was left in the ditch. Its brown coat stained darker in some spots—with dried blood. From the looks of it, this happened days ago.

“They killed off all their livestock,” Ghost grumbled, his attention fixed on something ahead of us. You followed his gaze. The herd of cows he passed every day we drove into town was left to rot in one of the fields surrounding the town. Their bodies are already half-decomposed. In their state, it was obvious this occurred days ago. 

“Isn’t this a war crime?” 

He nodded, features hardening. 

You wondered why no one had tried to dispose of them. 

In fact, as you neared, there wasn’t anyone around. No passing cars or people walking their dogs. 

As the town came into view, and the fog fell away from the buildings to could better make out the shapes hanging from the sign. You squinted, leaning forward. Your blood ran cold, “Riley–”

“I see it,” he grunted.

Three bodies hung from the town's welcome sign. The faces were mottle shades of blue and grey. Hands tied behind their back and feet bound together. Two men and one woman. They had died long after the cattle. Their clothes and hair remained dry, despite the last few days of rainfall. 

Ghost nodded his head towards the woman, “That’s my informant's wife.”    

If you hadn’t known him as well as you did you would have thought him indifferent to the sight but guilt lined the edges of his words. 

You looked back to the women and your stomach rolled. Her neck bent at an unnatural angle, “Did–” you shook your head in disbelief, “Why would they do this?” It was hard to believe that the same army you fought for could do something like this. Something so animal. 

Beside you, he didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the empty streets, finding nothing and no one. 

“Take me to the school,” you breathed, worry piling up inside you. 

He opened his mouth to say something, probably to argue but thought better of it. 

He rolled to a stop just outside the school, his brows furrowing, “Are you sure you’ll be fine?” 

You nodded, but you couldn’t find it within you to smile at him.

“You just need to click twice on your radio and I’ll be right back,” he was going to go check in on his informant. If his wife was dead, the probability that he was too was high.  

He waited for you to enter the building before he pulled out and went on his way.   

The school was desolate, no single child milled about. No teachers lined the halls. It was a school day, you were sure about that, yet no one was around. 

You followed the now-familiar path to the classroom at the back of the school. Peaking into empty classrooms on the way there. 

Your hands shook as you reached the door to the classroom, and eerie silence on the other side. You knocked but the door wasn’t shut properly and creaked open. The lights were off, and no voice answered from within as the sound of your approach. You swallowed the lump in your throat before pushing the door completely open. 

The room was empty. Yesterday's date is still etched in chalk on the chalkboard. 

Along with the angry rushed words, “Your sympathizers will be killed.” 

You didn’t need to ask to know those words were meant for you. You looked around the room once more, searching for any sign of life. But the room was nearly spotless, there was no blood, no sign of a struggle. Textbooks and pencils still lay on the desks of the students, ready for their next lesson. 

You picked up one of the books, examining it. 

Something outside caught your attention, a flash of a silhouette as it rushed across the courtyard.

You peered out the window and into the courtyard in hopes of seeing who was out there.

The breath wooshed out of your lungs, and the textbook in your hand slipped from your grip. You didn’t even hear it fall. 

Outside, hand-tied above their head to a wooden post was what was left of a female body. There wasn’t much left of her but the chard-blackened flesh. Gone was her scent of rosemary and pepper. Gone was her soft voice and youthful face. 

A hand flew up to cover your mouth as bile rose up your throat. 

The door behind you creaked open and you spun, hand going for your gun. 

A small familiar figure appeared, her usually emotionless face tear-stained. When she caught sight of you her face contorted into one of distrust and hate. 

It was the girl you had been helping heal the wound on her arm. 

Then she was rushing at you, her slim fist slamming into your armoured chest, her voice cracking as she yelled up at you. She kicked her feet out at your shins and ankles. You couldn’t understand her but her face revealed what she was saying. There didn’t need to be a language barrier to know what she was calling you. What she was saying. 

“This is your fault. You killed her. You’re a monster. A killer.” 

There was no doubt that her screams would draw attention if anyone was still here. You covered her mouth, hushing her. She trashed against you, nails digging into the exposed skin on your wrists. Her feet stomped on yours. 

Voices echoed down the hall and the both of you froze. Wide eyes connecting in dread. She stopped breathing entirely. You lifted a finger to your lips, prying she’d remain silent. Slowly and as quietly as you could you brought her to the windows, opened one of them and signalled for her to slide out. Her brows furrowed with skepticism but she obeyed. 

I was the lesser of two evils in her eyes.     

“Run,” you whispered to her, palming a throwing knife into her hand and she climbed out the window. 

She didn’t turn back to look at you as she sprinted to the other side of the building. You watched as she hesitated before running past the brutalized body of her teacher. You watched her dip out of one of the many doors. 

You tore yourself from the window and the scene beyond it, wishing you could at least cut her down from the post. 

But there was someone else here. 

You crept back out into the hallway, following the same route to the main foyer, trying to avoid the direction the voices came from. 

Wrong. 

At the end of the hallway were two men, their attire and the patches on the side of their arms making it obvious that weren’t here to be friendly. You considered ducking back behind the corner but they had already seen you. Their concealed faces snap towards you. 

Your hand reached for this radio at your shoulder and clicked it twice.  

“What are you doing here?” one of them called out, his head tilted to the side trying to get a better look at you. There was no way in hell you were going to get away with pretending to be a local. You were decked out in a bulletproof vest. Instinctively, your hand dipped for the pistol at your thigh but stopped short. They weren’t the enemy, they were here following orders. 

You cleared your throat, “I was told to meet the lieutenant here,” you could only hope they didn’t ask for a name.

They shared a look, the postures stiffening, before turning back to you, “Lieutenant, Smithers left yesterday morning.”

Welp.

You pulled one of the knives Ghost had given you earlier this morning from its sheath, “I don’t want to have to hurt you,” you swore. 

But it was too late, and this was going to be a short-lived fight. You were outnumbered and outmuscled. You could only hope you would be able to hold them off until Ghost got here.  

The first one moved quickly, and you flung the blade in his direction. You were aiming for his throat but missed. It landed in his shoulder, which worked well in slowing him down but wasn’t going to put him out of this fight. The second one closed in on you, throwing a dangerous left hook that for sure would have knocked you out cold if you hadn’t sidestepped him, now behind him you kicked out at the back of his leg. His momentary loss of balance was enough for you to drive your knee up into his face. Bone cracked, and his nose immediately started spewing blood everywhere. 

The first guy was still recovering from your knife, but he was still more than capable of doing major harm once he regained his composure. 

Your fingers found the warm metal of the soldier dog tag and wrapped your fist around it, tugging at it until his gargled protest echoed. You grabbed for the second knife equipped at your chest. 

An arm wrapped around your waist and you were being hauled up into the air and slammed into the wall behind you, knocking the wind out of you. You brought your elbow down in the soft spot between his shoulder and neck. Once. Twice. He let you go, driving his fist into your jaw. Your head snapped to the side and stars blossomed in the corners of your vision. 

You grappled at your assailant for purchase, but you were already being yanked into the other soldier's arms, your hand twisted painfully behind you.

“Bitch,” he missed in your ear.

Your vision was swimming but your eyes landed on the blade still jutting out of the first guy's shoulder. You leaned your weight back, lifting your feet to kick the blade in again. The man stumbled back, screaming. You dropped your weight as fast and hard as you can, bringing the last guy down with you. 

He was faster than you. Climbing on top of you, pressing into your back with a knee. His finger gripped at your scalp, bringing your head up only to smash it back into the ground. Again and again. 

There was a bang that cracked through the air. And you waited for the searing pain that usually accompanied a bullet. 

The heavy weight above you began to suffocate you, and you struggled for breath. A whimper escaped you. 

There was the sound of a struggle somewhere above you but you couldn’t find the strength to so much as look up. 

The weight was lifted off of you, and you came face to face with the unseeing, dead eyes of the soldier who was just bashing your face into the floor. Then you were being flipped and your eyes met familiar brown ones.  

Alarm flashed across his face, “Shit. Can you walk?”, his arm slipped under and around you. 

“Yes, I think,” You blinked up at him, your vision blurring. You wiped at your eyes, “I can’t see.”

“You’ve got blood everywhere,” Ghost hissed, shifting your weight onto him. The floor beneath your feet was slick and you fought to keep them under you. He nearly carried you to the truck before shoving you into the passenger seat. He was driving off before you could register where you were.  

“Was it just them?” He asked, trying to keep his eyes on the road but they kept snapping over to you. 

Your arms felt heavy and you slumped in your seat, “I didn’t see anyone else.” 

He drove fast back down the road and out of the town. If there were two soldiers still here there was bound to be more. And he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. 

He reached into the back to find something, anything for you to wipe the blood from your face. You weren’t sure which of it was yours and which of it was the now dead soldiers. 

He found a plain white cotton shirt from his pack.

“You’ll never get the blood stains out,” you half joked as you wiped at your face.  

“I’m not too attached,” he ground out but you could tell he wasn’t in the mood for jests right now. 

“Did you find your informant?” you strained as you wound a particular sore spot above your brow. A break in the skin that would surely scar. 

“He was dead.” 

Nausea gripped your stomach and you weren’t sure if it was the signs of a concussion or because of the aftermath of what you’d seen at the school. Most likely both, “Riley,” you struggled, fingers finding the door handle, “Pull over.”

“What?” 

Saliva flooded your mouth, “Pull over.” 

He turned into the ditch, tossing you a concerned glance before he moved to open his door.

“Stay in the truck,” you ordered, before slipping out your door. 

You were retching before your feet found the earth. You retched until you couldn’t anymore. Until your stomach was empty and your legs were useless.  

He didn’t say a word when you stepped back into the truck, but his knuckles turned white in the steering wheel. 

He handed you the bottled water from the cup holder and you rinsed your mouth out before speaking again, “We can’t involve any more civilians,” even to your ears you sounded defeated, “They will hunt them down. They did. They…called her a sympathizer,” you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. You told him of the school, and the message written on the chalkboard. You told him about the little girl and the teacher had to leave in the courtyard. “Did you informant know anything about the rest of us? Did he know I was at the school while you were with him?”

He stiffened, “No and yes. He wasn’t aware that anyone other than us two were on the run,”   

We drove for another few hours before he turned off the road once more. 

He was jumping out of the truck and reaching into the back seats before coming around to your side. His head was on a swivel, as he walked, looking for any signs that we had a tail. He opened your door, “We can’t go back to camp just yet,” he handed you your pack and placed his at his feet.

You had noticed that he was going in the complete opposite direction of the base a while back. Those soldiers knew we had been to that village, and they had been waiting for us to turn back up. There was still a chance they were following us, hoping we’d bring them back to everyone else. 

“Agreed,” 

“Dress in your civi’s,” he took out a fresh pair of jeans and a plain grey sweater, “The closest safe house isn’t as secure as the last,” He looked over your face and removed his vest, “I can stop on the way there and get you some ice for your face.” 

Then he was shirtless, then he was nearly naked. 

And too soon he was dressed again. His sweater pulled tights across his chest and shoulders. He looked even better in regular clothes than he did in his uniform. He moved to help you with your vest, the velcro a harsh sound in the silence. He helped you wiggle out of your shirt. You were sticky, cold, wet and with blood. He handed you a hoodie and waited for you to put it on before closing the door.

His Foresight - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎@mymommmy ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums ❤︎  @xheera​  ❤︎ @lockleywife​ ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae ❤︎  @yellow-devil18 ❤︎ @tangledredstringsoffate ❤︎ @gingergirl06 ❤︎ @wwe1rdc0re

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader

[hard-core-super-star]

May I please request something for Kate Bishop x reader? Even a part two for your latest Kate fic almost.

Reader hangs up her suit and stops being SpiderWoman after losing May, and both Kate and Yelena can see her starting to spirl. (Maybe Yelena helps her with the anger and grief of losing May.)

i'm all skeleton and melody [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x parker!reader; (platonic) yelena belova x parker! reader

summary: kate calls for backup when she realizes how underprepared she is to help you deal with your grief over losing may.

warnings: mentions of character death [mainly may but there's a quick natasha mention, i'm sorry]; heavy mentions of grief + references to depression; smaller serving of angst with a huge side of hurt/comfort and yelena being supportive in her own way; kate being a golden retriever gf who doesn't know how to stay

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: can i just say good grief is one of my favorite fics i've written so a request for a part two was a wonderful surprise? i've gotten attached to a lot of my mini-universes but this one is special to me. yelena has a bigger role in this part because i said so :) also, the gif above was my inspiration for one of the scenes and i think it shows lmao. anywho, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

People always talk about the five stages of grief but what they fail to mention is that grief is a never-ending cycle.

Sometimes you can reach anger and go right back to denial. Or reach acceptance and fall into depression again. Reaching the end just means you’re ready to fall back to the beginning and start fresh once more.

People make it out to be a process, and in many ways, it is, but it’s not an easy one to deal with. Even when you have loving and supportive people by your side.

Sometimes, having those people around can actually make it worse.

Which is how you wound up where you are right now, locked up in your and Kate’s shared bedroom, refusing to get out of bed or even open the door to your kind-eyed girlfriend.

Your guilt about shutting the archer out, literally and emotionally, is overshadowed by the pain that grips your chest every time you breathe. Pain that nothing can take away, not even Kate Bishop.

The truth is, you started slipping the second May died. You tried to hide it, and you honestly succeeded, until it became painfully obvious that you were ignoring the Spidey suit hanging in the back of your closet.

Any time Kate or Yelena asked, you mumbled something about how you were taking a break. It was more than understandable…until said “break” turned into you not eating, not sleeping, and shutting both of them out of your mind and heart.

Yelena handled it the way she handles most things, by silently watching until she found all the signs that told her you really weren’t doing well. Kate, on the other hand, did not handle it as well or as casually as her blonde best friend.

It would have been annoying if you didn’t love her as much as you do. She meant well, there will never be a doubt in your mind about your girlfriend and her clumsy yet good intentions. Her sad looks were more than you could handle, though, and her whispers of encouragement only served to remind you of what you lost.

So, when it became painfully obvious she couldn't help you on her own, she did the only thing she could think of. She called Yelena and begged her to talk you down from the metaphorical ledge you’re on. The one that told you you didn’t deserve to be Spiderwoman anymore, not when you were responsible for the death of the only family you had left.

“y/n!” Your self-deprecating spiral comes to a stop the second you hear Kate’s voice again. “I know you can hear me. Please, babe, just let me in.”

You can hear the tears that cling to her eyes even through the door that separates you. It should be a reminder of how much your girlfriend loves you but in reality, it only furthers the disdain you hold for yourself right now.

The warmth of the blanket you’re hiding under is no replacement for Kate’s strong embrace but you can’t find the strength to get out of bed. It’s not like you’re happy about it but you can’t do much to lift the heavy weight of grief that holds you down.

At least not on your own.

You can barely make out the sound of the archer’s voice but you don’t understand the word she says. Much less who she’s saying them to.

“I just want to help,” she says for the fifth time, earning herself yet another one of Yelena’s eye rolls.

“Yes, I know, you have said that a million times already.”

“I just don’t understand why I can’t go in there with you. She’s my girlfriend.”

“y/n isn’t in a good mental place, Kate Bishop. You will only get hurt.”

“Isn’t that exactly why I should be there? I’m supposed to be the one taking care of her when she’s not doing okay.”

“Put the puppy eyes away, you’re staying outside.”

“Fine…But-”

“No.”

The hushed sound of voices turns into the tell-tale sound of the doorknob being messed with. You assume Kate is attempting to pick the lock again so you merely sigh and turn onto your back, staring at the ceiling and trying to erase May’s face from your mind.

You feel a familiar exhaustion starting to creep in when the bedroom door slams open.

“I thought you said you were going to pick the lock!”

“Do not be a baby about it, Kate Bishop, you’re rich.”

“It was a nice door.”

The ghost of a smile appears on your face at Kate’s complaint but the reaction is more subconscious than anything. It’s almost like your body reacts instantly to your girlfriend even while your mind is struggling to stay afloat.

“Stay.” You miss the glare Yelena throws Kate’s way but the sound of footsteps approaching manages to register in your mind.

Your first instinct is to hide despite how ridiculous of an idea it is. You reach for your blanket and throw it over your face to cover your tired eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Yelena sighs but makes no attempt to force you to face her. She may act like a jerk sometimes but she cares a lot about you and Kate…mainly you but the archer doesn’t need to know that her playful insults aren’t always completely playful.

“y/n,” the blonde says softly as she sits down next to you. “I do not want to be the one to tell you this but your girlfriend is losing her marbles over you.”

“Yelena!”

The Russian mumbles some curse words you don’t fully understand before continuing. “How do you live with her? She is more annoying than her dog.”

“Don’t bring Lucky into this,” you murmur, deciding only to speak up to protect the loyal dog’s honor.

“I would say I’m sorry but I am not. It’s nice to see you’re still alive.”

You don’t remove your (literal) safety blanket but you feel Yelena’s hand find your own over the fabric. A moment passes before you stick your hand out and allow the blonde to intertwine her fingers with yours.

It’s a wordless action and yet it brings tears to your eyes. You’re not sure how or why but you don’t dare fight against the emotions that gather in your grief-stricken body. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“You don’t mean that,” she replies, no traces of her usual sarcasm in her tone. “You’re just upset.”

The word doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel. It’s like your mind is painfully aware of how alive you are while your body is more than happy decomposing within the four walls of your bedroom.

“Try devastated.”

Yelena either doesn’t understand what you mean or she happily accepts the replacement. “Okay, you’re just devastated. Staying inside isn’t going to bring her back, you know?”

“You’re one to talk,” you mutter despite how harsh your words truly are.

Fortunately, the Russian might be the only person you know who is able to take that harshness in stride. “You’re right, I did awful things when I learned what happened to Natasha. But I didn’t do it for her. I did it for myself. Because I thought it was the only way to cope.”

You take the words for what they are, a reminder that you’re not alone. That you’re not the only person to almost succumb to the powerful anger hidden within the sadness and regret. What happened to May is miles away from what happened to Natasha, though, and somehow the comparison only makes things worse.

“It’s my fault she’s dead.” All the tears you had been holding back finally fall, forcing you to accept the reality you’ve been trying to escape from all these days. “I got my mom killed.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t know that-”

“Of course, I know that.” You use your free hand to pull the blanket down and finally face Yelena’s affectionate gaze. “Who else is to blame if it’s not me?”

“Try the homicidal maniac with a glider.”

Yelena groans and the familiarity of the scene helps to ease some of your pain. “What happened to staying outside, Kate Bishop?”

“y/n needs me.”

The words are simple in nature and they’re nothing you haven’t heard before but the reaction they bring out of you isn’t one you’re used to.

Thankfully, Kate crosses the space between you without you having to say anything.

Yelena tries to move away but you tighten your grip on her hand before she can get too far. She rolls her eyes at you but accepts the silent request, choosing to remain seated by your side while Kate literally climbs on top of you.

“You guys are strange.”

You’re too focused on the relief of having your girlfriend’s body back on top of you to argue back.

The archer lazily wraps an arm around your middle while her head rests on top of your shoulder so she’s able to glare at her best friend. They only last a few seconds before they start arguing about something so you close your eyes and let the sound of their voices drown out the memories that threaten to come back.

“Hey.” Kate’s voice is a mere whisper against your tear-stained cheeks. “I love you.”

You don’t have to open your eyes to be able to see the sincerity she exudues with every breath she takes and every look she gives you.

“I love you too.”

It’s not nearly enough to get rid of all your pain but it’s enough to remind you what you’re fighting for every day. You’re fighting for the ones you love. Even the ones you’ve lost.

And maybe fighting won't bring them back but you don't need to. Being with the ones you have left is more than enough for you.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x parker reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #yelena belova #kate bishop #hawkeye #spiderman #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hello! Thank you for every advice you give here!

This might sound like a weird ask, but I don't know how to write the second(or more) draft. I've heard some advice about rewriting and not editing, but every time I try to write the second draft, I just end up copying the first one, with very few differences.

So my question is, what is your way of writing the second draft and if you have any advice on that? I know some things that work for some don't work for others, but I just can't seem to find the right way.

Oh, second drafts. Only the most difficult writing step after drafting, followed by the most difficult step of writing the third draft.

The good news is that almost no one pulls together their story on the second draft. If your first draft is putting down the bones of the story, the second is figuring out where to lay the connective tissue. Maybe you've got too many bones, maybe you don't have enough. Maybe some of your bones are too short, or too misshapen to work. The second draft is getting that story skeleton together, knowing full well you're gonna need to fix some of those bones first.

Get yourself a plan to put that skeleton together - make an outline. I swear I'm not the sworn enemy of pantsers that i sometimes seem to be (it's professional jealousy, I swear), but if you don't have an outline, now is the time to get one. If you do, go back and revise that first. You'll want to know what you want the story to become from the pile of bones you're working from.

Not enough bones - identify what you're missing. If you're like me, sometimes while drafting you write 'figure this shit out later' and then forget to do so. Thanks for nothing, Past Me. But chances are your story needs some added scenes, more character development, etc. Identifying those missing pieces and fleshing out your outline can help you tackle a second draft.

Too many bones - figure out what needs to be cut. Not every scene is going to be worth keeping no matter how attached to them you are. If you're on the fence about a scene, consider if it serves to move the plot forward, develops the characters, or establishes important worldbuilding. If the scene meanders plotlessly, repeats character beats instead of expanding on them, or seems to suck the oxygen out of the story, you may have to rethink or remove them.

These bones don't fit - figure out what scenes are lacking. Another thing I tend to do in first drafts is sell my scenes short. I just don't think of the best outcome, the most dramatic climax, or a great setting when I'm trying to figure out what happens. In going through your novel, think about each scene carefully. Should this argument take place in a deserted library, or would it be more emotional and dramatic on a crowded train? If the villain's plot seems small, how can you make him a greater threat?

Uuuh bro that's not a human bone - revising scenes that went off the rails. If you're gearing up for NaNoWriMo yet again, you might know the feeling of writing pages of bullshit to make that wordcount. It could be good bullshit! It could be really fun! But if it sticks out like a sore thumb in the story, it may be best to set aside to figure out what to make out of it later.

You're not going to get everything right in the second draft either, so don't over-stress in trying to get your story whipped into shape. But you will be better off after giving those bones a little polish and assembling them into what could conceivably pass for a decent skeleton, one that you won't mind sharing with others to see what other work it might need. Good luck!

#second drafts #plotting #onward toward that skeleton war #revising #writing advice #rewriting

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Hello 👀 I see your asks are open and u write for One Piece so I'd like to ask for my 4 favorite strawhats, Sanji, Brook, Usopp, and Franky with a reader who is very romantic and likes to take them on dates and do really romantic gestures like buying flowers or randomly hugging them from behind and being generally flirty like a sort of Casanova but is not used to the same type of affection towards themselves so whenever it does happen they get sort of flustered or choked up.

For Sanji he cooks the reader a special dinner. For Brook he writes them a song. For Usopp he makes them like a matching ring. For Franky he maybe he puts on a special show of fireworks for them. And the moment is very special for both of them.

Thank u 💗💗

Yes my lovely!!! I'm honestly the same as the reader, so this was a fun thing to write and I think I fell in love with these characters a lil more.

G/n reader, and neutral nicknames. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Cheesy, sappy romance. Reader crying from happiness from a romantic gesture. (these aren't really warnings but whatev) It's a lot of fluff y'all.

No spoilers, and all characters can be either pre or post timeskip. (except in Franky's version, because Usopp has his plants and seeds but that's it, and really you can pretend it's pre timeskip)

Brook

"Hey there, handsome. I brought you some tea" you said, winking at your boyfriend as you set the tray down.

"Ah! Thank you so much, I love you down to your bones! YOHOHOHOHOHO!"

You giggled at his bad joke, and curled your arms around him for a hug. You breathed in his scent- sea salt and paper, with an underlying scent of whatever he used to polish his violin. You nestled your face in his afro, letting it tickle your nose.

"Well I love your music" you whispered, pecking his cheekbone. He stiffened, and you could've sworn he was blushing, but it may have been a trick of the setting sun.

"Th-thank you" he answered, wrapping an arm around you as you sat beside him. You noticed scrapped paper crumpled into balls nearby, tossed carelessly behind the skeleton's shoulder.

"Whatcha workin on?" you asked. Brook spluttered on his tea, and you thumped his back.

"Ah! Nothing, nothing!"

You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. He never hid songs from you.

"C'mon babe, you know I'll love it even if it's bad"

"...I want it to be perfect before you hear it."

You looked at him, blinking. He was acting odd.

"Fine. But I'm taking you on a date tomorrow" you said, shrugging.

"Alright... Wait- that makes no sense!"

You laughed. In your mind it made perfect sense. He was working so hard on composing a song that he needed to be perfect even for you to hear- the person he trusted with his worst and best songs. If it needed to be perfect for you, it must be really stressing him out.

"Let me treat you since you've been working so hard on this" you said gently. Brook sighed, looking defeated as he slouched.

"Just... would you be so kind as to come see me tonight? Perhaps on the balcony of the crows nest?"

"Sure, the usual time?" you asked with a smile. He nodded, looking at you softly. Or at least you thought so, sometimes it was hard to tell, but usually you could read his emotions pretty well. You kissed his cheek as a goodbye and got up to go bother Sanji as he prepared dinner, hopefully sneaking bits of food when he wasn't looking.

Dinner was as delicious and chaotic as usual, but you noticed your boyfriend seemed a little out of it. Was that song bothering him more than he was letting on? Was something else going on? You decided to ask him about it when you met with him later. Dinner ended, and you decided to join Chopper, Luffy, Nami and Usopp in the aquarium for dessert and tea while playing a card game. You were surprised Brook wasn't joining, he always seemed to be around when tea was served.

You played a few rounds of the game, throwing down your cards in defeat as you groaned.

"Well losing is great and all, but I got a date with my lovely boyfriend. Have fun, guys!" You left with a smile and a wave. You climbed to the deck and then scaled the ropes up to the crows nest. An odd light was coming from the direction of the balcony, and you furrowed your brow. You entered the crows nest. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, silver pooling on the wood of the floor. It smelled nice for once, not like the usual sweat and booze of Zoro. You looked around, and gasped when your eyes fell towards the balcony.

A trail of rose petals lined by candles led to the balcony door, which was propped open. Cushions and blankets were deliberately placed to make a sort of nest, and more candles lit the area in a soft glow. The stars above shone bright, the full moon adding to the delicate light. Brook was standing looking out into the night. You took a few tentative steps forward, soaking in the floral scent of the rose petals.

Brook turned around, holding sheets of paper in his hand. If he had lips, you knew he'd be smiling softly at you.

"Brook..." you whispered, trailing off.

"Come here, my love." He held out a hand, and you followed the candle-lined trail into his arms. You held him tightly, crushing his ribs. He chuckled painfully.

"Please, sit down. I wrote this for you." His voice was deep and smooth, sending warmth cascading over you like a warm blanket.

"W-what is all this? Why?" You let go of him, bewildered. He eased you down to sit on the cushions and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. His feet shuffled him away behind two music stands you hadn't noticed before, each holding a piece of paper. He picked up his violin and bow, letting it hang a little in his grip.

"You do so much for me. You take me on dates, bring me things, listen and adore my music, and so much more. I wanted to do something for you, just because... well, you deserve it. I wrote this for you, but I'm still not sure I captured how just beautiful your soul is. So please, bear with me."

You tried so hard not to cry. Your throat was burning with the effort, and you could feel your eyebrows scrunched upwards. You looked at him with wide eyes, chin wobbling.

He chuckled at you, and brought up his violin to his chin, readying himself. He took a breath in, and began to play. It was beautiful, pure, and sweet. It had a slow tempo, but slowly increased as he opened his mouth to sing.

It was dark, all alone.

A promise I kept, but I yearned for death.

I met a man, who accepted me and took me in

and I thought I had a reason to live again.

But you. You stole my breath.

If I had a heart, you would've stolen it too.

The promises to keep living were almost forgotten

'cause when I'm with you, darlin

I could never wish for us to part

I may not have a heart, but I have a soul.

And that, I give you entirely.

Accept my love, because you've shown me yours.

Please, my angel.

Be mine, forever.

Tears were streaming down your face by the time the first word came out of his mouth, and by the time he ended the lyrics, you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs. You wanted to listen to him, but you were so overwhelmed with love, you could only cry.

The music faded off with a gentle, smooth note, and you finally let yourself let out a sob. You heard shuffling from your boyfriend, and he grabbed one of your wet hands to place a handkerchief in it. You stuttered out a thanks and he brought you to his chest.

"Please tell me these are good tears" he murmured in your ear. You nodded frantically, and threw your arms around him.

"Please sing it again sometime. I can't handle it right now but another time? I just... I just love you s-so muuuuch!"

"Oh my angel. I love you too"

Note: I wrote the lyrics myself so if you don't like it don't tell me because I'm a baby

Franky

There were strange sounds coming from Franky's workshop, luring you to the belly of the Thousand Sunny to wonder what the hell your boyfriend could be doing. You approached the door, ignoring the 'keep out' signs that you knew weren't aimed at you. Muted voices you recognized as Usopp and Franky floated through the crack at the bottom of the door. You pressed your ear against the cool metal, picking up words here and there.

"...gotta be... for her... can you... shavings or would... better?" Franky's gravely voice muttered.

"Hmmm... be loud... but there's this that'll... does that sound alright?" Usopp responded. Obviously they were planning something, but what? Nobody's birthday was coming up, at least that you were aware of. Maybe Nami asked for some improvements on her weapon? You knocked, curious.

"Babe? It's me!" you called opening the door. You heard quick shuffling and a fearful squawk from Usopp.

"Oi! Careful! That stuff's explosive!" he hissed at your boyfriend.

A small smile curved your lips as you raised a brow. Franky was obviously hiding something behind his broad frame.

"Thought I told you to include me in projects with explosives" you teased, crossing your arms.

"I-I... Uh... It's not what it looks like!" Franky stuttered, waving his hands in front of his face. You giggled.

"Relax hon. I don't know enough about Nami's weapon to be of any help. I just heard some weird noises and wanted to see what was going on"

"Nami's-?" Franky was cut off with a loud exclamation from Usopp.

"Oh! You wanted to see my plants, right? See what they can do and how I harvest the seeds?"

That effectively caught your attention, despite the obvious tactic, and your eyes lit up in curiosity. His plants were much more interesting to you than the complexities of Nami's weather science.

"Oh right! I forgot I said that!"

"I have some spare time now, want me to show you?" he asked, with a smile as he crowded you towards the door. You glanced at your boyfriend over his shoulder. He just sent you a small wave with a grin.

"Bye my love! My sweetie! My genius cyborg! My-" Usopp cut you off as he shut the door, leaving you with an imprint of your boyfriend turning more into a blushing mess with each exclaimed pet name.

"Gross" he muttered. You stuck your tongue out at his back, but didn't say anything. You didn't want to ruin your rare opportunity for him to explain the weird plants he cultivated on board. The two of you talked for hours, getting distracted easily when the captain pulled the two of you into a weird game that you ended up winning, much to your confusion.

Eventually it was dinner, and Franky showed up late before promptly chugging some cola. He seemed... off. Nervous? Excited? Whichever it was, he was preoccupied. He barely spoke during dinner, and gave short answers when he was addressed. Dinner finally ended, and you were tasked with helping Sanji do dishes, but knew the cook would understand if you wanted to check on your boyfriend first.

"Franky?"

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I'm fine" he said easily. You tilted your head, keeping eye contact.

"You seemed preoccupied during dinner."

Franky sighed, "I am. The project I'm working on... can you meet me tonight?"

You smiled and nodded eagerly. "Sure thing, I'll meet you after I finish helping Sanji out. How can I say no to my Superrrr hero?" you struck the pose he often did, wrists above your head and a wide grin on your face. It drew a laugh from Franky's broad chest, and the sound washed over you like a warm wave.

A hand gently ruffled your hair as he passed by. You caught it, and raised his knuckles to your lips. He smelled like metal. His cheeks tinged red as you let go of his hand and walked back into the kitchen, swaying your hips just a little more than usual to grab his attention. You looked over your shoulder, catching his gaze flicking up from your ass to meet your eyes. A blush tinged his cheeks and ears, and he quickly spun to walk out. You snorted, and exchanged a knowing look with the cook.

You talked pleasantly with Sanji, discussing each other's day. He asked about what you learned with Usopp, and you gladly filled him in. You asked him about his professional opinion as to whether he would change any of the dishes he served today at all, and he told you his plans. It was easy conversation that accompanied your dish washing system, making it seem to go by quickly. Soon enough, the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. You dried your hands, grabbing some cola from the fridge for you and Franky to share while he showed you your project. You happily said goodbye to Sanji, who sent you a knowing look. You blushed with a chuckle.

You made your way to the deck, searching for Franky.

"Oi! Up here!" he called. Your head whipped around towards the sound of his voice at the helm. You smiled, jogging up to him.

"I brought us some Cola!" you announced proudly, holding up the jug. He took it in his large hands and placed it on the ground with a soft smile. You cocked your head. Normally he opened it and offered you the first sip. What was he doing? He stepped back and gestured behind him.

"Come here. I want to show you something."

You were confused, but trusted him whole heartedly, so you stepped towards him. Once close enough, he put a hand on your shoulder and turned to reveal a cozy setup- a wide, freestanding hammock with pillows and blankets for optimal comfort. The hammock wouldn't curl up and around the person, but rather was held open by wooden slats at the short ends of the hammock that had holes drilled in for the many ropes that tied back to the wooden frame. The hammock material obviously had a high thread count according the the gentle sheen you could see in the moonlight. The wooden frame was carved into swirls, suns, and moons. You gasped. It was beautiful craftsmanship.

"This is the project? It's... amazing" you whispered.

"This? No. Just took a couple hours. The real project you haven't seen yet. Now sit down and get cozy!" he urged with a nudge on your lower back. You needed no further encouragement. You sunk into the hammock with an appreciative sound. He sat next to you, and you let yourself fall into his embrace under the blankets.

"So what's the real project?" you asked. Your new pillow rumbled as Franky laughed.

"You'll see." He pulled out a tiny den-den mushi and called someone on it. As soon as the person on the other end picked up, he said a simple order, a handsome smirk curving his lips.

"Light it up"

"Roger" Usopp replied from the other end. You gawked at your boyfriend. What in the-

BOOM

You flinched reflexively as the sound cracked through the sky, and you swung your gaze towards the direction of it. Beautiful colored streaked down in a sparking sphere before fading to nothing. You gaped at the sky, frozen in awe.

BOOM SHHHH BOOM

Firework after firework was set off, shape after shape. They slowly got more intricate. A blue star, tangerine, kitchen knife, katana, straw hat with a red ribbon, skull, slingshot, flower, pair of antlers, and finally, as the finale, a portrait of you. You gaped at the glimmering lights falling through the sky, painting a line drawing of what was undeniably, you. You looked beautiful though, smiling happily into the distance as your form faded into the stars.

"Franky..." you breathed. You clutched a fist over your chest, trying to fight down tears. He did this... for you? His large form shifted so he was looking at your face.

"Baby, now you see how I see you. You're the day to my night, the moon to my star. I love you with everything I am, but you fluster me too much for me to say much, and we're so busy every day that I can't find the time like this very often to show you. You deserve everything you could ever want. I love you."

His confession broke the weak dam that was holding back your tears, and you sniffled as you looked at him, gripping onto his unbuttoned shirt. You finally thudded your forehead against his hard chest, and he chuckled, running a hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Frankyyyyy!!!" you wailed. He held you closer, picking you up and letting you lay on top of him.

"It's okay. I know you love me too."

You nodded your head, unable to speak through the overwhelming emotions of love for your boyfriend.

(yes the carvings on the hammock and what he said were on purpose)

Sanji

You crept into the kitchen quietly, sneaking up behind the cook as he hummed to himself standing before the stove. There was only a single pan sizzling. You quickly wrapped your arms around his lithe waist, startling him.

"Wha-? AHN~~ MY LOVE!" he swayed dangerously on his feet, hearts in his eyes as he comprehended the situation. You giggled, and pecked the back of his neck. He turned in your arms, and hesitantly wrapped his own around you. The relationship was still somewhat new, and despite your assurances that you loved when he touched you (in any way), he still seemed hesitant. You had a hunch that he was so used to rejection that it was strange to be flirted with so blatantly, but he was adjusting.

"How's the best chef on the Grand Line?" you cooed. He tensed a little at the compliment.

"Best chef on the Grand Line, huh?"

"Of course! But I had a question for you"

He pulled back slightly, his ear twitching towards the pan behind him. He spun the two of you around so your back was facing the stove, and he stirred the ingredients.

"Yes, mon amour? Do you need a snack? Or want me to try a recipe? or do you need a drink? I got some fresh fruit at the last-"

"Sanji!" you said, laughing as you looked at him. He blushed, realizing he was rambling again.

"Sorry! What did you want to ask?"

You cradled his cheeks in your hands, looking deep into his eyes, a smile curving your lips.

"Have you thought about it? What you'll cook when you find the All Blue?"

His blue eye widened, and his jaw was slack. His hands froze behind you, stopping his precise movements.

"Y-you... I don't... mon... Mon Ange" he stuttered and whispered. You cocked your head at the French phrase, not having heard it before.

"Hm?"

In response, he shifted one hand to rest on the middle of your back, and the other curled around your hand that was on his cheek. He swung you to the side, dipping you as he kissed you deeply. Your squeak in response was swallowed by his lips, and a quiet moan squeezed from his chest. You kissed him back desperately, your free hand gripping his flexed bicep as he held you up. He tasted of tobacco and the savory dish he was preparing. He pulled back, licking the connecting string of saliva from his lips with a devilish smirk. He still held you at an angle, hovering above the ground. He placed your hand he was holding gently onto his shoulder, and traced a finger down your arm and held the back of your neck. His thumb brushed over your jaw, and he brought his hand forward to run the back of his index finger down your cheek. You were so sure he could feel the heat of the blush radiating from your skin.

"My Angel" he whispered. You blinked at him. He huffed a small chuckle and pulled you back onto your feet so you were in the same position as before. Your knees felt weak from the sudden display of affection, but he held you steady in his arms.

"Yeah... what?"

"Mon Ange means My angel. That what you are to me."

"O-oh... thank you?"

He smiled, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Don't thank me for telling the truth, darling"

You giggled almost deliriously and hid your face in his chest as he resumed his movements stirring the food on the stove. You stayed there a few more moments, basking in his radiating warmth and adoration. You finally turned your face up to his, a smile curving your lips.

"I came in for a glass of water. Luffy decided that he's going to teach me one of his made up games."

Sanji hummed, smirking.

"Let me know if you need anything stronger than water to get through it" he teased. You rolled your eyes. It couldn't be that bad right? Luffy was... simple.

"I'll let you know" you said, pecking his cheek. You tried to slip from his grip but a hand caught your wrist gently. You looked back, curious. His pale cheeks were tinged a soft pink, and his blue eye flicked between the pan and you, as if he couldn't decide what to look at.

"Sanji?"

He cleared his throat a little.

"Tonight... would you do me the honor of having a private dinner with me?"

You felt your face heat, and you looked to the side, hoping futilely to hide your flustered expression.

"O-of course!"

His hand slid to cradle yours, and he brought your knuckles up to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on each one before flipping your hand to kiss your palm and the inside of your wrist. You couldn't help but stare at his movements, entranced in the feeling and the pure adoration emanating from is actions. His one visible eye finally met yours with a soft smirk.

"Merci, Mon amour"

Your stomach swooped with butterflies, and you were frozen in place, too flustered to look away or move. You felt your lips start to curve in a dopey lovesick smile.

The door to the eating area suddenly banged open, startling you out of your daze.

"SANJI!! I'M HUNGRY!" Luffy whined. You jumped back, snatching your hand from Sanji's grip. You were usually fine with the PDA he showed you, but the moment felt too intimate to share with anyone else. You could only giggle as the cook turned to glare threatening at your captain.

"Food'll be done soon." he replied in a clipped voice. Luffy blinked at his tone, but was quickly distracted with the scent of the snack Sanji was cooking. You watched as deft, elegant hands plated the food and shoved it towards the ever-hungry captain.

"Thanks for the food!" Luffy chirped to the blonde. He turned to you.

"C'mon! Help me prank Usopp!" He grabbed the plate and bounded out the door without waiting for your response to the sudden change in plans.

"Bastard's a pain in my ass" your boyfriend grumbled under his breath. He handed you the glass of water you had came into the kitchen for. You giggled at his crankiness towards Luffy.

"He can be. I'll see you tonight though, okay? Let me know if I can do anything to help. I'll even wrangle Luffy and Zoro for you"

Sanji rolled his eyes at the name of the swordsman.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but the damn marimo would only sully your hands"

A shout of your name from the deck called you into action. You pressed a quick peck to both of Sanji's cheeks, his forehead, and finally his lips before parting with a final kiss to the back of his hand.

"I'll be waiting for you, my prince!" you cried dramatically as you exited the door. Hearts danced in Sanji's eyes and he swayed as he clutched at his chest.

"AHN~~ MY LOVE!" He collapsed to his knees dramatically as you closed the door.

"Disgusting" rumbled a deep voice from nearby. You rolled your eyes.

"Oh shut the fuck up and go wash your stank, hairy ass, Zoro" you griped. He nearly choked on his sake at your language. You cheerfully ran off to make mischief with the captain, ignoring the swordsman's indignant "Oi!" from behind you. You hoped Sanji heard your remark. Loud laughter from the kitchen made you think he did.

~~~~

It was hours later when you finally were getting ready for the date. You had a busy day, between pranking Usopp, saving Luffy when he fell overboard from Usopp's retaliation, and trying to get Franky to teach you more about the mechanics of the ship. Your brain hurt from the cyborg's lecture, and you finally gave up and decided that you probably just wanted to tinker around with things like Usopp does. That ended rather quickly after you had to make a trip to visit Chopper not even five minutes of working with Usopp.

You dried off the rest of your body from the shower, looking through your clothes for an outfit. This was obviously a date, so you wanted to look somewhat decent. You finally decided on an outfit that was appropriate for the warm weather, and knew highlighted Sanji's favorite features of yours. You stepped out of your room, wondering where on the ship the cook set up.

"Ready?"

You looked to the side. Leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette was just the man you were looking for. You smiled, nodding.

"You look amazing." He stepped forward to kiss your cheek, and pulled back to look into your eyes

"You said you'd do anything for me right?" he murmured. You nodded.

"Close your eyes for me, my love."

You looked him, curious. He held up a silken tie with a smirk.

"It's going to be a surprise, so close your eyes please."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you followed instructions. The silken strands of the tie tickled your cheeks and eyes. He tied it loosely enough so it just barely touched your lashes, but still somehow stayed up. You felt him step away, as if admiring his work. Strong arms suddenly swept you off your feet, and you just about swooned with the pure strength that was hidden under his typical long sleeves.

He carried you through the ship, and you felt somewhat ridiculous like this, but you wouldn't change it for anything. Keeping your eyes closed made you feel more aware of your surroundings. You could guess as to where he was taking you, but you didn't know for sure.

He finally came to a stop and lowered you to a standing position.

"Keep your eyes closed while I take off the blindfold" he warned. You nodded slightly, anticipation whirling in your gut. His hands dragged up your arms, behind your ears, and finally drifted to the knot behind your head. The silky material released easily, caressing your face with a cool touch. You heard him take a deep breath, as if to calm himself.

"O-okay. Open your eyes"

You blinked a few times to let yourself adjust to the light, and gasped in awe. You were in the aquarium bar. Fairy lights draped from the ceiling, adding a soft light to the area. A table was set up in front of the aquarium glass with a crisp white cloth, fancy plates and bowls and silverware, and a rose placed with obvious care over one. You looked to the side, noticing what looked to be a portable cooking station nearby. Fresh seafood sat in an ice tray nearby. What-?

Sanji cleared his throat, obviously nervous at your lack of response.

"I-I can change a few things, of course. But since you asked earlier, I thought I'd show you what I'd want to cook once we find the All Blue... will you cook and dine with me?"

Overwhelming love and affection washed over you. He was letting you intimately see and experience his passion. You couldn't help but get choked up.

"S-Sanji!" you all but slammed into him, hugging him desperately. His arms wrapped around your back hesitantly.

"Is this too much? Is this bad? Why are you crying my love? Please, I'll do anything"

You let out a wet chuckle at his frantic response. His arms tightened around you.

"It's g-good tears, love. God I'm so in love with you I can't help but cry. Of course I'll cook with you!"

He pulled back, holding you so your hips were still flush but he could look into your eyes. All he could see was unbridled joy and happiness through the tears, a genuine grin puffing your cheeks. He quickly swooped in and kissed away the tears with tiny pecks, tickling you. Your laughter sounded like the bells of heaven to him.

"Mon Ange, I love you."

hhhhhnnnggggg i love this man so much he's such a romantic and so am i and just sdkljlkdfjdfsfdsjil

Usopp

"Usopp! My love! My dearest boyfriend! Captain of 8,000 men!" you called liltingly as you waltzed into his workshop. You snapped your gaze over to him as you heard sudden fumbling and a muttered curse.

"O-oh hey!" he responded, obviously hiding something behind his back. You furrowed your brow. He was always begging to show you his inventions, no matter the failure. He always showed you what he learned.

"What uh... what you got there hon?" You were almost fearful of what he was hiding. You had experienced his slingshot ammunition first hand, and knew he was a prankster. Put those together and you had no clue what you could be in for.

"N-nothing!" he squeaked. He was turning into a really bad liar. You raised a brow, highly skeptical.

"Uh huh. You know better than to prank me in certain ways, right?"

"I do, I do!"

You narrowed your eyes at him. His gaze flicked around the room, avoiding yours. He cleared his throat exaggeratedly.

"So did you need something?"

You sighed with a smile and a shake of your head. If he pranked you, he knew the consequences.

"Oh yeah! Sanji has lunch ready if you're hungry."

His gaze lit up at the mention of food, and immediately turned back around towards his desk. He rummaged around for a second before turning back to you with a wide smile.

"Let's go before Luffy eats it all!" he said, dragging you with him to the deck.

Lunch was great as usual, but Usopp delved back into his workshop after eating enough to make him full. You kept yourself occupied during the afternoon by playing a game with some crewmates. It was obvious he wanted to keep it a surprise for you, and you respected that, but you couldn't stop thinking about it. What would it be? How would he prank you? Was it even a prank? Was it something bad? Why did he want to keep it a secret?

A tap on your arm grabbed your attention again, and you turned towards Chopper.

"It's your turn again. Are you okay? You keep zoning out"

"Hm? Yeah I'm fine. Usopp was just acting a little strange earlier but I'm sure it's either another prank or something like that" you shrugged, grabbing the dice to roll. Chopper hummed at you, quickly absorbed back into the board game.

~~~~

Dinner rolled around, another amazing meal courtesy of Sanji. Usopp showed up late, but you had protected his plate fiercely from the hungry captain.

"No! My boyfriend has been working really hard on a project ALL DAY and needs some food! Take Zoro's or Nami's food!" you chided. Luffy pouted, and you ignored Zoro's and Nami's sounds of indignation. Sanji finally stepped in with an extra plate just for Luffy.

The door finally opened, and your expression changed quickly to a grin as you laid eyes on your long-nosed lover.

"I saved your plate!" you exclaimed, patting the seat beside you. Usopp returned your smile, and eagerly sat next to you. Everyone on the crew knew what it meant to keep a plate untouched from Luffy.

"How was your day?" he asked around a mouthful of food. You started chatting away about the games you played. You started describing how you kept zoning out because you were so curious about his creation.

"That's what I love about you though. Your curiosity and imagination" he murmured in your ear. Heat flooded to your face, and his words effectively shut you up. He looked at you after you were silent for a minute, staring at your now-empty plate. You saw him smiling sheepishly out of the corner of your eye as he shoved the last bite of food into his cheeks, puffing them out. He leaned forward, and booped the tip of his long nose on your temple, almost in place of a kiss.

Dinner finished quickly after that, and your boyfriend gently grabbed your wrist and guided you out of the eating area. He lead you onto the deck, and brought you up to Robin's flower garden. His hand shifted to cup yours, palms touching as he held your hand up. His palms felt clammy, and he shifted anxiously.

"You okay babe? What's going on?" His nervousness was affecting you.

"I had a whole speech, but for once... it doesn't feel right for the moment."

He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled slowly as he stared at your joined hands. You waited patiently, curious but not wanting to press him. He looked into your eyes determinedly.

"You... I love you. So much. I love what you do for me. You take care of me all the time, and profess your love every day. You love me for who I am, all of me. I just- I want to show you. I don't feel like telling you like this is enough. I want you to be reminded of my love for you every damn day like you show me every day, so... I made something for you."

His free hand reached into his pocket bringing out a pair of matching rings. They were stunning, smooth, and shiny; simple, but intricate. You loved it.

"Usopp..." you whispered in reverence. Tears pricked your eyes at the sentiment.

"I want to promise you that I love you, through my bad days, through my cowardice, through anything. I made these rings so we can always know the other loves us. One day, I'll make you a better ring and propose to you with it, but will you accept this for now? As a promise for my love?"

You blinked, tears streaming down your face, framing your grin with wet trails.

"Of course, I'd be honored to accept your love" you repeated the line you said when he first asked you to date him. He grinned in response, tears shining along his long lashes.

He put the ring on, and you couldn't help but notice it fit perfectly. You stared at your joined hands, now decorated with matching rings that promised a future. You laughed wetly, and jumped into his arms. He laughed and spun you around once before he placed your feet back on the ground and kissed you. He nipped at your lips gently, smiling into the kiss. You couldn't help but return his grin, and you both had to pull back so your teeth wouldn't clack together.

"I love you, Usopp"

"I love you more" he answered.

I actually liked writing for Usopp more than I thought I would!

I'm so sorry this took me forever to get out! I've been swamped with my depression and my job with hellish hours but I loved writing this, and wouldn't mind doing more fluff for more characters :)

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fluff #franky x reader #franky x you #brook x reader #op brook #one piece fanfiction #usopponepiece #usopp x reader #ussop x reader #sanji x you #sanji x reader #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji fluff #franky the cyborg #franky fluff #brook fluff #usopp x you #usopp fluff

[sunevial]

Reasons Why You Should Move To The Torn Veil

It's a night market

It's a giant, sprawling, night market full of people from a million worlds who have come to trade and to live and to rest and to find themselves

There's boats with people on them and the people on the boats in the river can sell you things

GOOD

PUBLIC

TRANSIT

A dragon runs the city

Specifically, an undead dragon, who turned her body into ice and now possesses both a giant dragon-sized suit of armor and a smaller humanoid shaped construct, runs the city guard

She gives paladins sworn to the city cool dragon weapons

And she's very excitable

YOU DON'T NEED A CAR. THE STREETCARS MIGHT BE HAUNTED, BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO PAY FOR CAR INSURANCE

There's good liches

Well, morally complex and slightly scary liches, but good liches

One of them runs a library. My friends think the lich that runs the library is hot (not wrong)

Vampire blood bars

Or blood in juice boxes if you prefer that

And art deco vampire speakeasies

These posts about the wildest oneshot I've ever ran will make more sense because I ran that oneshot in the Torn Veil

(i said more sense, not complete sense, the math my friends did still breaks my brain)

STREETCARS, NARROW ROADS THAT DON'T REALLY FIT HUGE CARS, GONDOLAS, FLYING CARRIAGES DRIVEN BY LICENSED PROFESSIONALS

Corner stores and restaurants from every culture, real or otherwise, serving foods that have existed forever and do not exist anymore

Memory river that lets you travel to a million different afterlives

Fishing in the memory river for memories

Slime Carriage Driver

ACCESSIBLE

DENSE

URBAN

HOUSING

I'm queer and mixed SEAsian and this is what happens when I'm allowed to be incredibly self indulgant

The answer is Haunted Spooky Less Fucked Up Sigil, apparently

The massive park full of nature spirits born from plants left at people's gravesites

Necrodancer rave clubs with ghosts playing EDM and power metal

Specifically made constructs that can house ghosts and other spirits, giving them back a semblance of agency after being violently separated from their bodies

Or cause they want a ghost mech

Pop off

CATACOMBS HOUSING SKELETONS FOR THE SKELETON WAR

THE CITY IS FIRMLY ON THE SIDE OF THE SKELETONS

BY THE WAY

IF THAT WASN'T ABUNDANTLY CLEAR

They're used for the defense of the city and are largely controlled by said necrodancers playing the EDM and power metal

It's always dusk

And a little chilly but in a nice way

Well, sometimes it's warmer, the dragon in charge of the city guard can also control the weather

She does that so the farmers can get rain

The skeletons also pick fruit on the farms btw

There's many uses for a skeleton and sometimes those uses are animating it so the skeleton can pick delicate fruit that has to be harvested by hand

A friend of mine loved this place so much that there was a real timeline where he ran a oneshot in the setting before I was able to run a oneshot in the setting

The oneshot took place in a place called the Dead n' Breakfast

It's run by a skeleton who's also a vampire

Her name is Constance

I love her

NO RENT

WHY IS THERE NO RENT YOU MAY ASK

WELL BECAUSE THE CITY JUST MAKES BUILDINGS AND NEW FLOORS TO APARTMENT BUILDINGS APPEAR OUT OF THIN AIR

(you do need to pay a little bit of tax though)

(because while the city has figured out how to make modern buildings, it has not figured out electricity or plumbing or streetcar rails)

btw the city is alive

kinda

sorta

hard to explain

Street Food

Every Street Food Ever

Like if you want some, it's there, and it's real nice and real cheap and sometimes people will just give you food for free

Sometimes a nice ghost makes it for you

Sometimes it's a skeleton babushka

The knowledge that there's other people caught between life and death, that there is a place for the lost and the wandering, that there is a place where life and death have different meanings and that complicated relationships with life and death can be a little less so, that families can reunite long, long after they were supposed to, that there is a place that calls the lost and calls them home and calls them somewhere that is safe, it is a place you can be finally safe

Ghost Macy's

#my writing #the torn veil #dnd #undead

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 4 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3

AO3 link is here, darling.

Act I, Chapter 4 - The Discovery

It was late afternoon when you heard someone, or something, trip the alarm spell. The party had left you alone while they investigated the bog south of here, so you had set up a series of trip wires with silver string that would chime a tiny bell on your belt. You had five bells, and the one you had marked as the water path had chimed. 

Pulling out your dagger, you crept over to the water's edge, hiding behind some boulders. Your hands shook nervously and you wiped the sweat from your palms more than once as you approached. You saw a decrepit silhouette casually walking towards the water's edge. It looked like a dried up husk of a man, and you wondered if it was hostile. 

"Thou may approach… I will not harm thee," the skeleton called.

You blinked. Deciding not to sheathe your dagger, you carefully walked up to the strange being and looked him over curiously. He observed you silently in return. 

"What—I mean… who are you?" 

"I am Withers," he replied. "That is all thou needst to know."

The hell it was. "Why are you in my camp?"

“Because this is where fate meant for me to be.”

He did not elaborate, nor did he respond to any other questions. Since he seemed content to stand still and do nothing, you sheathed your dagger and went about the rest of your day. 

When the party finally returned, you immediately asked them about the skeleton. 

"Oh, right. We found him in a crypt we were exploring when we were still staying at your cottage,” Gale answered.

When no one else offered any further information, you prompted them. “...And then what?”

“He said we’d meet again at the proper place and proper time. I suppose that’s now.”

You were a little annoyed by how nonchalant everyone was with a fucking skeleton appearing in camp, but you didn’t push any further. They all seemed physically and emotionally weary from their time in the bog and were barely talking to each other, let alone you. So instead you quietly served their meal and snuck away to the skeleton once more.

He looked at you quietly, clearly waiting for you to speak first.

“So. Fate really meant for you to be here?”

He nodded.

“What about me?”

“Thou, as well.”

You frowned. You didn’t like the idea that your choices were pre-ordained.

“But now that thou art here, the rest is up to thee.”

You also didn’t like that he was seemingly reading your mind. “Thank you for your… insight,” you replied before turning away.

***

You were no stranger to sleeping light; after all, you used to work for a masked lord of Waterdeep. Danger was a constant companion, betrayal a nonstop neighbor.

So when you felt a burning hunger in your belly, your eyes shot open immediately. You were surprised to see Astarion hovering above you, his hands splayed on the ground near your shoulders, his wrist only just touching your exposed skin. You were even more surprised to see that he had fangs, and that they were bared at you as if he were about to bite. 

When he realized you were awake, he jolted back. "Shit."

You sat up, observing him by the dim campfire light. Fangs. Pallid skin. Other memories bubbled up in your mind. The refused food. The dried up rabbit in your yard. His fear of crossing running water. Things you hadn’t paid attention to before, or perhaps, hadn’t connected.

Vampire.

His expression seemed more contrite than anything else, as if he were a child caught trying to steal an apple. Through his touch, you had felt an admittedly understandable hunger, but also a thin thread of fear. Damn your empathy, but you felt a bit sorry for the poor creature.

"If you were hungry, you should have just said so," you finally said.

He had looked so ready to talk his way out that your unruffled acceptance threw him for a loop. All he could do for a full second and a half was stare at you, dumbfounded. 

“Well?” You tugged slightly on the neckline of your shirt to expose more of your neck. “Are you hungry?”

He stumbled a step away from you, looking at you for a moment, then peered around frantically, clearly wondering if this was a trap. But everyone was sound asleep in their tents.

“Well, if you’re offering,” he replied as he regained his wits. He took one last look around before coming closer, kneeling beside you. His gaze seemed honed in on your neck.

You wondered for a moment if you were crazy. Deciding that you were, you reached out and touched his hand.

hungry fear never again—

You quickly moved your hand away. Taking a deep breath, you tilted your head to one side. “Just a few sips, nothing more. Just to regain your strength.”

He flashed you a smile, cocky and coy at the same time. “Of course. Just a little drink.” 

His hands rested lightly on your bare shoulders as he leaned in. The hunger was there, so strong that it made your hair stand on end. Was that what bloodlust felt like? Before you could ponder it further, the tip of his nose caressed the skin on your neck, and you suppressed a shiver. Whether it was from fear on your part, or from anticipation on his, you weren’t sure.

You felt the heat of his breath on your neck. “Ready, darling?”

“Just hurry up.”

He chuckled darkly. “If you insist.”

Then he bit you.

The sting of icy needles into your neck contrasted wildly with the heat of his mouth on your skin. But you weren’t prepared for how much more you felt from him, so much more than a touch on the hand. You had steeled yourself for some emotional transfer, but this was beyond anything you had ever felt before. You felt the clawing hunger that suffused his entire body, a pain far worse than the cold stabbing of his bite. Twisted within the hunger was lust, a craving both arousing and triggering your fight or flight instinct at the same time. And beneath all of that, a deep relief, as if he had been saved from something he greatly feared. The emotion was so heartrending that you wanted to cry. 

Overwhelmed by everything, you lost the strength to sit up. You whimpered as you began to fall backwards.

Suddenly Astarion was holding you, one hand supporting your back, the other cradling your head as he followed you down. He gently set you down on your bedroll before he released you from his bite and pulled away. His face had an inscrutable mask, but you could feel something from the physical contact. He was… Touched. 

He stared at you for a moment, his scarlet eyes glimmering, a bit of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His tongue flicked out to clean the blood from his lips, then he reached out and brushed your neck wound with his finger. Slowly, he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the last few drops, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. 

Then he opened his eyes and stared at you once more with a serious expression. "You've given me a gift. I won’t forget that."

You were silent for a moment, entranced by his gaze. "Do you feel better?"

He nodded. "I feel stronger. My mind is clearer. I feel… Happy."

“Good,” you said, your voice strained with the effort to speak. “Glad I could help.”

He tapped your nose playfully. "You did. Now get some rest, darling. As delectable as you are, I need something a bit more… filling." Standing, he turned and walked away, looking quite a bit more haughty and hale. 

And so you had made another poor decision, dear witch. 

Or was it?

***

The next morning while everyone was getting ready, you made your way to Astarion’s tent. You hadn’t seen him yet, and you wondered if he had managed to hunt something last night.

Is he still hungry?

Just as you were about to call out to him, he burst from his tent, a fucking ray of sunshine. He was all smiles and cheer, especially when he saw you.

“Ah, my sweet little treat. Come to check up on me?”

“I did, but clearly you’re doing just fine.” You should never have worried. But you looked him up and down, just to make sure. “You seem healthy.”

“I am, thanks to you,” he purred, smiling at you a bit too prettily. A tremor of caution went down your spine, as if you were staring down a predator who was lulling you into a false sense of security. He stepped a bit closer to you, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. You were decidedly not fine; your neck was sore and you felt some fatigue. Any of the others would probably wave this off as a little bug bite and nothing more, but you did not have the strength or stamina of a road-hardened adventurer. 

A question suddenly bubbled up from your mind, and before you could think better of it, you asked, "Did you pick me because I'm the weakest?"

His perfect smile suddenly faltered. "Believe it or not, that wasn't the reason." He looked away, suddenly a little shy. "You… smelled the sweetest."

You raised an eyebrow. "You say that to all your blood donors?" 

He turned back to you. “I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told?” He cleared his throat. "You were my first," he mumbled. 

You stared in shock, but as he continued to explain himself, you started to believe him. His floundering rang of truth.

“You were delectable. And now I just can’t help but wonder how the others taste.”

As he rattled off his conjectures about everyone’s flavor, you had to wonder: Did he just like the sound of his own voice?

“What about you? Who would you want to taste? Hypothetically, of course.”

You grimaced. “I’d rather starve.”

If you hadn’t been watching him so carefully, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of his eyebrow. “Come now. This is a mere thought experiment. Pick someone.”

“Well…” you trailed off, looking around at everyone as they got on with their day. You turned back to Astarion. “Probably you, since you’d be the most accepting.”

“Not because you think I’d taste the best?” 

“I wasn’t even thinking of that,” you confessed.

You could see the gears turning behind his eyes as he observed you. You weren’t sure what he was calculating in that head of his, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t like it.

"So what did I taste like?" you asked out of curiosity.

He stared at you so intensely that you regretted asking.

"You don't have to answer," you quickly added. 

He hummed before he leaned in, his breath on your cheek as he murmured secretly, only to you. "You tasted like the purest, sweetest honey wine."

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. With him looking at you like he wanted to eat you right up, you suddenly wanted to run. 

“Erm, right. Well, I better get going then,” you said, quickly turning around and bailing from the conversation like your life depended on it. 

Perhaps it did.

***

While most of the party was away, you began to take down the camp. Karlach and Wyll had offered to stay behind and help you move all the gear to a new campsite closer to the druids’ grove while the others investigated a possible cure.

The two of them were relatively chatty with each other, which left you time to stew over this morning’s interaction with the noble.

No, the vampire.

You replayed the conversation in your mind. His flirty posture. His beguiling tone. It was as if he was luring you in, playing at being attracted so you would feel the same in return. Give something to receive something, you supposed. It all seemed very constructed, and didn’t match the fleeting moments of shyness, which were much more charming to you.

He had nothing to gain from making you fall for him, other than your continued donation of blood. But you would have done that anyway. You liked taking care of your companions. It brought you joy.

Why is he doing this? Does he think I wouldn’t feed him otherwise?

As you spaced out, lost in your thoughts, the others had completed cleaning up their sections of the camp and packed things up. Karlach came up to you, waving her hand in front of your face when you didn’t respond to your name.

“You alright? You seem a bit tired,” she commented. 

Shit. Can’t let them know anything. “I’m good!” you replied, wrapping the scarf around your neck a little more securely before quickly getting everything else ready to go.

As the three of you hiked to the new area, your thoughts kept wandering, and so too did your perception of Astarion. Something wasn’t adding up. He was a noble, a flirt, and unapologetically snide at times. But he had fears, shadows in his heart that didn’t make sense to you.

Unless…

You thought of a lion, caged in a circus. Forced to perform, perceived as mighty, but treated like property, only useful if it played along. A chained beast that lashed out in fear, having only experienced the worst.

Admittedly, you didn’t know much about vampires. But you did know about emotions.

Your heart clenched as the direction of your thoughts turned dark. You had a hunch and you didn’t like it.

If I’m right, then I should handle him with more care. But I hope to the gods that I’m wrong.

------------------------

Chapter Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I really wanted to bring my own spin to this scene. Let me know what you think in the comments!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldurs gate 3 #writing #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home

[hydropyro]

Raphael / Hope Theory

Continuing from my previous theory regarding Raphael's relationship with Haarlep, this is my theory about Hope.

Raphael is 'in love with' Hope (in his way, to paraphrase him)

Evidence 1: In the House of Hope there are several notes written by Korilla that document conversations between Hope and Raphael. The most important of them for this theory is 'Taming of Hope Part 1' which reads as follows:

- - -

Raphael: Did your mother sing you nursery rhymes?

Hope: What?

Raphael: Little Miss Teffle, sat on her kettle, steam blowing between her lips. Along came her oven, in need of some loving, and soon she had scalded her hips.

Hope: That's funny.

Raphael: And yet you do not laugh. Come, Hope. Don't look so aggrieved. This little realm around us, this house, you have mastery of it.

Hope: And you of me.

Raphael: Sing me a song. Hope? I'm speaking to you. Now, don't go silent. I'd hate to have to slit a child up the navel and rinse you in their insides.

Hope: You're some pervert.

Raphael: Then sing me a song, I say! Nursery-sweet. But don't demean. I'll know if you do.

Hope: (after some moments she does. I remember our mother used to sing it to us, a gentle melody laden deliciously like plump young arms laden with autumn-ripe apples. When the song concludes, Raphael sighs and looks at my sister)

Raphael: You're something, my dear. Really rather something. I would have you master your own fate. Let me give you free reign to do so. Let's abandon this whole ugly imprisonment. Serve me willingly. Things would be as merry and jubilant as that song you've just given me.

Hope: Sweet Raphael?

Raphael: Yes, Hope?

Hope: Eat. Shit.

Raphael: But--

Hope: Stuff your maggoty tongue in some other woman's ear.

Raphael: (here he looks upon her with such longing and hate I think he might actually [end] her.) Oh, that was in error, my dear. In grave error. I shall see you soon.

- - -

I believe that Raphael constructed the House in part for her, and repeatedly asks that she take her place, I believe as the 'lady' of the domain.

Her sister, Korilla, is Raphael's loyal warlock. Her mortality points toward Hope also being mortal and not some ancient embodiment of the concept of 'hope', though Raphael probably gets a kick out of the juxtaposition. My personal headcannon/assumption is that Korilla sought to be his warlock before Raphael's obsession with Hope began, and that Hope may have been part of Korilla's payment for his patronage.

The House of Hope was built just before the events of BG2, and thus is just over 100 years old, well within the lifespan of a mortal dwarf.

We know this because while in the House of Hope in Act 3 we can speak to the Infernal Mason, a skeleton that claims to have been the architect of the House. He was *also* the architect that built Moonrise Towers for Ketheric Thorm. Upset by Thorm's corruption and change of devotion from Selune to Shar, the architect made a deal with Raphael, asking him to fight Shar's encroaching armies before the Shadow Curse took hold.

Raphael did this, which is how Yurgir came to be in Shar's Gauntlet, as he was part of the fighting force against Shar, and specifically her Dark Juctisiers.

Now, on a darker note (TW: SA) I think Raphael has likely found loopholes to try and get with Hope. As a devil I think he requires affirmation of some kind, or a positive contract, before he's able to assert himself over anyone (in any fashion). This is why he doesn't force himself on Hope. He can't. She would say 'no', and he can't breach that. (Whether he physically can’t or has a personal boundary not to, I’m not sure)

But, when you first visit the boudoir, Hope appears and expresses disgust for the space. You can ask her, "Have you been here before?" to which she replies, "Never willingly," implying that she *has been there unwillingly*. Knowing what we know about the space, I'm guessing that she has met Haarlep.

I think it's possible that Raphael has used Haarlep to charm a 'yes' from Hope. (ie Hope would say 'yes' to Haarlep under his innate incubus charm/seductive magic but wouldn't to Raphael).

Haarlep, like Raphael, also appears to require an affirmative, but has natural abilities that cause people to be charmed and seduced by him, forcing people to agree to things even if it's not entirely consensual. As such, Haarlep is able to take your soul if you fail certain checks during that scene (or if you click on the option to give up your body and mind for scientific purposes).

Raphael his highly charismatic, but he doesn't have these magical charms, and so he has no way to coerce Hope to say 'yes' other than torture, which hasn't worked thus far.

Whether that would mean Raphael could also participate along with Haarlep, or would only be able to watch, I'm not sure, but given all of the evidence I have no doubt it's happened.

And, in Raphael's form Raphael would have all the sensations even if Haarlep was the only one capable of touching her.

I believe Raphael intends to create a sort of Zariel, corrupt someone holy and use their power for evil. Hope is powerful, and he allows her to indulge in her power. For example she’s able to ‘astral project’ in a sense around the House, and he permits it.

Raphael intends on becoming a God. While I don’t think he’s ‘lonely’ I think it’s possible he gets bored, and would want a partner to keep him company. It seems that Hope is the goddess he’s set his sights on.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael #haarlep #hope #theorycrafting #theory

[shinechermont]

Her love

Chapter 4- The "advantages" of marriage

Tw: (implied) dubcon, sexism, racism

Diana’s new house was totally different from what Carla was used to. She could tell it just by the size of the walls surrounding her house - they were almost the height of her house. 

It was from that moment that she knew that Harold was a rich guy.

‘He is an empresarian’, Diana said when she presented him to her. Well, that made sense with what she was seeing.

She rang the bell and waited for someone to come. No one but the yellow skeleton herself appeared to welcome her.

“Dee, what is this?”, Carla said thoughtlessly, what made her friend blush - maybe in embarrassment - as she laughed.

“Mweh hehe- I know this can seem too much… but it is just Harold’s fancy taste”, Diana said as she opened the gate for her friend to come in. “Maybe we can have some tea in the backyard?”

Carla nodded, and then looked around. She didn’t know about the inside of the house, but she could say that the outside was… well… dead.

There were no plants to be seen - she was so used to see plants everywhere in Diana’s old house that just seeing the extreme opposite of it was.. eerie.

The backyard didn’t change much. To say it wasn’t sterile it had a bit of grass and some small rocks forming patterns, but that was about it.

“What do you think of it?”, Diana asked, as she sat down on a table that conveniently already had a teapot and two cups on it. “The yard.”

“It is, uhm… completely different from your house”, Carla said, not being able to not point that out.

“I know, but Harold isn’t very fond of plants, you know?”, the other said, serving tea for her friend and herself. “He says that plants make too much of a mess for his own taste.”

“But how about your own taste?”, Carla asked, not being able to hold herself back.

Diana seemed a bit.. guilty for being sort of called out? “Well, I made a deal with him. When I missed my plants, I could just go to my house and stay there for a couple time.

Carla wasn’t sure if that was a good deal, but she decided to not comment on it.

“So”, Diana said. “How have things been? It has been weeks since we last saw each other. I would have written to you but the honeymoon was too busy! ”, she smiled sheepishly.

Carla sighed. “To be honest I don’t have much to say. The last weeks were pretty average to be honest. But hey, it should be me the one asking questions here. How did things go in your honeymoon?”

“Well, as we said, it was very busy. We traveled to Paris, but we also went to the cities around it.”

“Paris?”

“I know, right? Those were good weeks in the end, mweh hehe.”

Carla took a sip of her tea. “I am glad that things went well for you, Dee. Harold must really like you to take you there”, she teased.

Diana looked away, taking a sip of her tea. “Well, how are you taking care of my plants?”

The change of subject made Carla get a bit weirded out. “They are all healthy. The book Nora wrote really is helping me out to make them stay alive, hehe.”

“I see. Thank you so much  for doing it for me”, Diana said, putting her hand over her friend’s in a caring way. “If you have any problem with them, don’t hesitate calling me, okay?”

Carla felt her bone cheeks getting a bit warmer. Dee was looking at her so tenderly…

“Alright.”

“Well, well, well, there you two are!”, a male voice approached. It was Harold. “At this point I thought you went out to buy groceries.”, he then turned to Carla, “How are you doing? Is the house hospitable enough?”

“Yes”, Carla said politely. “I, uhm, really like the patterns the rocks do.”

“That is good to know! See, dear?”, he turned to Diana, “The house can be cozy even when it doesn’t have plants in it.”

“Yes, dear. It is pretty clear to me now”, Diana said with an exasperated smile.

“May I join you?”,  Harold asked.

“Of course. Could you pick a cup, so you can join us?”

“Why don’t you pick it for me instead?”, Harold said. “After all, you are the woman of this house. Besides, I really want to talk to your friend.”

“Sure thing”, Diana said methodically, but she kept her happy expression as she walked away.

Harold took his wife’s seat without even thinking twice. “So, Ms. Serif, how was your day?”

“Well, it was nice. I spent most of the time on my job, and after that I went here”, Carla explained.

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“At the police station. I am a secretary.”

“Oh! It seems to be a… tough job.”

“I am just a secretary. I answer people’s calls and write notes to pass them to the officers. I don’t see anything tough in that.”

“Well, but the cultural difference between the people in there and the people that call you don’t make things awkward?”

“Sometimes, yeah”, she admitted. “I can deal with it.”

“That seems like a phrase of a tough person would say. You should really be proud of yourself, Mrs. Serif. Not so many monsters, let alone female monsters, can get where you went. My darling, for example, poor little thing, she barely lived inside her little house.”

“She was a nurse”, Carla pointed out, not liking where the conversation was going.

“An underpaid nurse. But I helped her make it to a better life. And she is so much happier now.”

Carla just nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

“What were you two talking about anyways?”, Harold said, not liking the silence of the conversation.

“About your honeymoon. It was in Paris, wasn’t it?”

“For sure”, Harold said with a smug smile. “I can’t help but give my wife the best. Our first night was the most pleasant of it all, but poor little thing, she was so sheepish with the ambience and all.”

Carla frowned, putting her cup of tea on the table. “Do you really feel like it is appropriate to say such things about your wife, let alone to her friend?”

Harold laughed sheepishly, as he noticed he was being called out. “Oh, I am sorry about it. I thought it was common for monsters to have open talks about it.”

“No, I think not. It is shameful for humans and monsters, in fact.”

“I see…”

The two stood in silence, until Diana came.

“Why did it take you so long?”, Harold asked. “Nevermind, I remembered I had something else to do. I won’t be able to join you two anymore.”

“There is no problem”, Diana said comfortingly, and Harold walked away, with an unreadable expression on his face. “What happened?”

Carla didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to have heard what she just heard. Harold never said things like that in the meetings they had before the marriage… She wondered what kind of things Diana listened to everyday…

“Nothing much”, she said. “He said there was just some paperwork he had to fulfill.”

“I see”, Diana said, sitting down and sighing. “Well, do you want some more tea?”

*******************************************

Cross (Carla) by jakei95

Dream (Diana) by jokublog

Harold... is a mystery

Fanfic is inspired by zu-is-here's, junipers-insects' and iatetheglue's works

#her love #her love fic #diana #carla #and harold #dream!sans #cross!sans #cross sans #dream sans #cream ship #xunshine #cross x dream #dream x cross #harold is something dont you agree. #carla doesnt like him #fem!cross #fem!dream #tw implied dubcon #tw sexism #tw racism

[unofficial-sean]

On Helicoprion's Pelvic Fins (or lack thereof)

For about a year, now, I've been wracking my mind on the subject of the latest reconstruction of the extinct holocephalan[1] Helicoprion[2]. By all other accounts the latest reconstruction, which can be viewed below, is the best it's ever been. The iconic Eugeneodontid[3] tooth whorl fits into the jaw in a logical way and lends credence to our present understanding of its diet.

But, as you gaze further posterior, you may notice something queer: no pelvic or anal fins. Now, a not-insignificant number of living chondrichthyes[4] lack anal fins. This is not out of the realm of imagination. But the same cannot be said of the pelvic fins, which aid in control and stabilization and also serve as the girdle for which claspers are attached to in males. All living chondrichthyes possess pelvic fins; from chimaeras like Hydrolagus colliei[5], to sharks like Hexanchus griseus[6], to skates[7] like Raja binoculata[8].

(Hydrolagus colliei)

(Hexanchus griseus)

(Raja binoculata)

So, why are they missing in our latest reconstruction? I made attempts last year to reach out to the researcher responsible for our modern understanding of Helicoprion, Jesse Pruitt (whose lecture on his research set me off on this journey), through LinkedIn, but I never got a response. Looking through my message history, though, the conversation appears to have disappeared, making me wonder if I'd actually sent it at all.

This morning, I tried again. I drafted up my question and reasoning and sent it to Pruitt's LinkedIn and ResearchGate profiles, and I sent it to the Idaho Visualization Laboratory (IVL) which made the Helicoprion model. I had expected considerable delay, but to my mirth, I got a response this afternoon.

On behalf of IVL, Leif Tapanila responded to my email with answers. As it were, other Eugeneodontids from the Carboniferous and Permian periods were preserved better than our Helicoprion specimens. Specimens of Fadenia[9] and Romerodus[10] were preserved very well with full-body imprints in consistent shale rock.

(Fadenia)

(Romerodus)

These imprints lack pelvic fins. Considering their close relation to Helicoprion, this absence was assumed for the visualization. I've inquired after Edestus[11], another Eugeneodontid of the same era, since there are many specimens and imprints, however fragmentary. I have yet to receive an answer, but when I do, I will update this post.

(Edestus)

I was determined to find some oversight, since holocephalan specimens from the Devonian period include pelvic fins in their reconstruction, but it seems the facts have dissolved my suspicions. I wanted to share this with you all, since I cannot edit Wikipedia articles (much to my dismay, as I have learned much and more in my studies of H. griseus that I want to add to its page). This knowledge deserves to be shared, since I find it ponderous.

Until next time,

[1] Subclass of chondrichthyes, containing contemporary chimaeras.

[2] Extinct eugeneodontid. Etymology translates to "Spiral saw"

[3] Order of holocephalan characterized by tooth "whorls" and inability to shed teeth.

[4] Class of chordate (vertebrate) characterized by a cartilaginous skeleton

[5] Chimaera known as the "spotted ratfish"

[6] Hexanchiform known as "bluntnose sixgill shark"

[7] Order of elasmobranch "Rajiformes," adjacent to rays.

[8] Rajiform known as "big skate" (no, really. haha)

[9] Eugeneodontid from the Carboniferous, Permian, and Triassic period

[10] Eugeneodontid from the Carboniferous period

[11] Eugeneodontid from the Carboniferous period characterized by its scissor-like teeth and jaws.

#helicoprion #edestus #romerodus #fadenia #holocephalan #chimaera #chimera #chondrichthyes #eugeneodontida #jesse pruitt #idaho state university #idaho visualization laborator #ivs #paleontology #marine biology #fish

[natalieironside]

Masters of the World, part 1

Hey there, Age of Mythology fans! You can head on over to https://www.patreon.com/posts/77895021 and download the first map in a campaign I been working on (nothing is for sale, I'm just hosting it there while I work on my big-girl website)

Heyyy everybody, here's one of my side projects!  I'm making a custom campaign for the super great historical fantasy RTS game Age of Mythology: Extended Edition,which I'm pretty sure at least one other person on Earth still plays.  You can get it here if you don't have it:  https://store.steampowered.com/app/266840/Age_of_Mythology_Extended_Edition/  It's been a lifelong favorite since I was a kid and it's a great relic of the early 2000s RTS golden age; highly recommend.  Once you've got the base game plus the Titans and Tales Of The Dragon xpacks, you can just drop this bad boy into the "scenarios" folder in your game files and you'll be good to go.  More on the technical issues in a minute, but if you run into any problems try opening it in the editor and just selecting one of Player 1's units and that should fix it. 

First, a word on the production.  To put it bluntly the AoM scenario editor absolutely stinks.  A lot of stuff just straight up doesn't work.  For one thing, I've confirmed with other mapmakers that the campaign maker is irreparably broken and the only way to knit all the scenarios into a campaign is to manually write an XML document, which . . . I am not doing that.  Also, a lot of the text-based storytelling elements from AoE2 were cut and replaced with visual ones, and listen Ensemble Studios I love you but I am not going to sit here for hours and make an entire claymation movie one if-then statement at a time.

All this is to say that this scenario is not done, but it is as done as it's ever going to get, so I'm just gonna send it.

Masters of the World part 1 is a single-player battle royale (well technically it's 1v1v1v1v1v3 but who's counting) build-and-destroy map with 7 AI players.  Much like Swords of Outremer, I went a little wild with this one and as a consequence it's mad chunky.  I recommend playing with your video settings turned alllll the way down.  Also much like Swords of Outremer, I used an RMS for the skeleton; this one is Alfheim.  I'm planning on telling this story in about 7 or 8 single-player maps, and you can expect Masters of the World part 2: The Fields of Pentecost sometime soonish.

***

Masters of the World is a high fantasy scenario where you play as Ajax Ironroot, king of the dwarves, who has come south out of his mountains to deal with an ancient threat:  The Master of the World.  The Masters, a band of mighty and nigh godlike wizards, lorded over by the mysterious figure known only as "the Wizard," have long scourged the land and laid it waste as they vie against each other for ultimate mastery.  Ajax, afraid that this destruction may spread across his borders, will march forth to challenge the Masters on their own terms . . . But, to challenge them means becoming a Master of the World oneself.  

Featuring a robust cast of characters, including the vain and proud Lady Pentecost, queen of the elves, and the mysterious vampire lord Gretta, Duchess of Shadows, as well as various and sundry other original the characters (do not steal).  If you like protracted mountain sieges and massive endgame doomstack fights, like I do, this should serve; during playtesting I let the AI duke it out amongst themselves and they whupped on one another with no clear contender for like 6 or 7 hours until the game ran out of memory and crashed. 

Have fun and let me know what you think!  :)

#viddygames #aom #age of mythology #mow #spot the stephen king references

[morroodle]

The 16 realms

Hey ninjago I fixed your plot hole

This is my giant headcannon explanation for how the 16 realms work along with the concept of sister realms and realms being further away (complete with diagram).

Words are stupid and my explanation may or may not actually make sense to anyone but I promise the idea is cool

Put simply, the realms are all in a circular stream flowing clockwise and the realms are like pools in that stream.

Some realms are close to eachother in the stream but only one way, for example ninjago and cloud kingdom. Getting to cloud kingdom from ninjago is very easy, its right next door and all you have to do is follow the stream (or jump through a storm appearently). However, getting to ninjago from cloud kingdom would be much harder. This also explains how realms can be far from eachother. The never realm isn't far away from everything else, it's just the furthest from ninjago.

When someone dies, their soul has to follow the stream to the departed realm. Unfortunately for some realms, the cursed realm happens to be on the way. I imagine that the preeminent, being the embodiment of the cursed realm can essentially reach into that stream and just grab a soul on its way to the departed realm.

Sister realms are realms directly opposite eachother in the stream. They have a connection to eachother that serves as a shortcut for inter realm travel, making it easier and safer. An example is ninjago's sister realm being the underworld. Because they are sister realms people can safely travel there and back pretty easily (the skeletons, wu in the pilot).

Sister realms, while being easier to travel between, also have the vulnerability that if one of them falls so does the other. Without anything to balance them out a realm just can't survive.

---

Im not completely set on the placement of the realms I chose, I swapped the underworld and cloud kingdom multiple times because either would work well as ninjago's sister realm. I'm also not set on the cursed realms placement, I can't decide how close it should be to the departed realm. We only really see people from ninjago and what seem to be native ghosts in there so I wasn't sure. This is all flexible and completely my own ideas so everything is open to change.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago headcanons #ninjago plot hole #ninjago realms #ninjago 16 realms #fixing plot holes

[bumblebeabae]

Viv's gain pt 1

"I really need to gain some weight" Vivienne chuckled to her friends. Viv was 98 pounds and didn't eat a lot causing her to become something resembling a skeleton, she hated it but feared gaining weight just as much. Most of the group agreed saying things like "Go your pace." or "As long as you're comfortable" and "We are here to support you" but what Viv didn't know is that one person had different intentions. Scott remained suspiciously quiet, maybe a little flustered but no one noticed, was this his chance? would he finally find someone to... Before he could think, words spilled out of his mouth "You could come to mine Viv, I'm a great cook". Viv smiled and accepted his offer, "You could come round tonight if you would like", "Sound's great, I'll be there."

Later that day Viv arrived at Scotts' house wearing size 4 shorts that were loose around her waist and a wrinkled tank top, as she struggled to find anything that fit her slim body. Upon entering she noticed all the pasta he cooked, some gnocchi, mac and cheese, chicken alfredo, 3 entire bowls, surely that wasn't all for her, was it? "What's with all the pasta Scott" her words slightly trembling "Oh heh, I had no idea what type of pasta you liked and my service is terrible out here, I didn't get a chance to ask." he smiled "Any leftovers, I will just save in the fridge." Viv nodded, Scott was so thoughtful, and to be honest, she liked all these options, it would be hard to pick. "In that case could I..." she hesitated "hm, could I have some chicken alfredo?" Scott served her her dinner, not grabbing a bowl for himself, and put on a movie. "Oh shoot! I almost forgot, would you like a drink? I have water, hot chocolate, coffee, anything you would like." "A hot chocolate would be nice" Viv replied. Scott smirked, "Perfect choice." He had recently bought some chocolate-flavoured weight gain powder, even if Viv wasn't going to eat much yet, this was sure the help her get started. The movie ended, Viv had finished her meal and her hot chocolate and as she stood Scott could see that the ill-fitting shorts from a few hours ago had begun to look quite fitting. Viv hugged Scott on the way out, "This was great, you really made me feel comfortable here, I would love to do this often" Scott felt his chest flutter, was he really going to be able to pull this off? "Y-Yeah totally, any requests?" "Surprise me" Viv replied. I definitely will Scott smirked.

Their meetup happened quite a few more times over 3 weeks, by the third week Scott had convinced Viv to have dessert that was filled with lots of heavy cream, although she didn't know that part. This would prove to turn the tables.

Week 4, one month in, Viv hadn't really noticed many changes and she promised herself she wouldn't look at the scale, she did realise her shorts from a month ago had begun to be snug and left red marks on her after she sat down for a while, but that was a normal part of weight gain, it's what she wanted after all, and plus, she still looked quite slim. For today's dinner, she decided to wear those same shorts and tank top, it was the first thing Scott noticed about her, at this stage, it was hard to tell, but for Scotts' trained eye it was easy to see her shorts were starting to dig, a very slight layer of chub folding over her shorts. "Welcome Viv, tonight I decided to order in, I have McDonalds on the table, I ordered a lot, take your pick" Viv eagerly walked into his home, and picked out a Bigmac, sprite and 10 chicken nuggets, "Is that all?" Scott asked curiously, "I figured you should have a little extra today, given it's a month since we started doing this." Viv reluctantly agreed, he had spent a lot of money on this, may as well have some more, so she grabbed a cheeseburger as well. It was halfway through tonight's movie she had finished the burger, drink and fries, Viv's shorts were feeling exceptionally tight and her tank top had no wrinkles left, she shifted uncomfortably and debated undoing her button - no, I dont want him to notice, I will finish this last cheeseburger, wait for the movie to be over, leave, order new shorts and Scott won't realise. Though physically she had made progress, mentally she was still ashamed of other people actually noticing her gain. She bit into the burger, and another bite, struggling to swallow, feeling her body screaming - but she refused to waste Scott's money, when suddenly *pop* the button on her shorts gave way, her newfound pooch jiggled out in front and was double - hell maybe even triple the size it was this morning. Viv's face instantly turned red, her heart pounding out of her chest, maybe Scott didnt notice? Viv turned her head, her eyes would have met with scotts if it wasnt for the fact he was staring at her growing tummy, he was speechless. Flustered, Viv tried hopelessly to pull down her tank top but given its size, it just rolled back up, continuously revealing the pudge on display then Scott began to speak, "That was hot-" "Excuse me?" Viv couldn't believe what she just heard, "I- uh, well" Scott started to look as red as she was, "It's just, you look so good with that pudge on you." He said bluntly. Viv blushed, was this still embarrassment or was it turning into - no no no, "W-what are you saying?" she stuttered. Scott figured he had nothing to lose, "I'm saying I am into fat girls and - and I want to make you my pig." Viv was shocked, she had no idea what to say. "I will cook dinners, buy you new clothes and feed you anything you want." Viv still didn't respond, she looked down at her belly, grabbing the little amount of flab between her hands, feeling the supple softness of her body, this actually feels kinda good. "Okay, I'll try." Scott smiled "Well, first things first - finish that burger" Viv took a deep breath, finished the cheeseburger, and with that, her feederism journey began. To be continued.

This is my first time writing, and it is quite obvious, any tips you guys have to improve are welcome <3

In the next one, I plan to get that done within the week and also involve more feederism in it, if anyone sees this I am happy to include requests >:)

#wg writing #weight gain story #feedee fantasy #belly expansion #feeding kink #stuffed feedee #tight clothes #feedee story #feedeerism #weight gain fic #fat belly #fatty #fat girls #chubby

[imogenkol]

— WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by the lovely @inafieldofdaisies thank you! 💕

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @v0idbuggy @kyber-infinitygems @eloquentmoon @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree

currently jumping all over the place in my wips so here have a sneak peak of this flashback I’m working on that takes place at the end of Fallen Order

Imogen held her crimson blade to the Second Sister’s throat, halting her path of escape. She may be weaponless, but Imogen knew from their many sparring sessions that Trilla was the furthest thing from harmless without her lightsaber. If the Inquisitor made a single move Imogen did not like, her head would come off. 

“It is over,” Imogen warned.

“Pity,” Trilla mused. Despite being at a disadvantage, she didn’t appear worried in the slightest. Her eyes glittered like a hunter who just captured its dinner. “We had fun together, did we not?”

It was foolish to believe Imogen would fall for sentimentality. Even with their intimate history, she possessed no fondness for her adversary. Such emotions had no place in her heart. “You will let me destroy the Holocron, Trilla. Or I will destroy you.”

Trilla laughed darkly as if she understood a joke that Imogen did not. “No matter what you do now, you are condemned. Whether your end be today or years from now — swift or slow — it is up to you, but your fate is sealed, Fourth Sister.”

Imogen nodded. “Perhaps it is better that way.”

“How so?” she asked with a subtle tilt of her head.

“When Vader took my leg, I realized I had only traded one set of chains for another.” Imogen leaned in, the blade of her saber inching a little closer to the other woman’s skin. It hummed deeply in anticipation as its harsh light reflected in both of their eyes. “If I am condemned, then so be it. Better to live truly free until I draw my last breath than to die for another cause that has nothing to do with me.”

and because I'm in a silly goofy mood.... how about some Adhira and Shin

Adhira watched Shin skulk off and noticed a small streak of dried blood stained the platinum strands at the back of her head. After a moment of deliberation, she excused herself from Morgan’s side and decided to follow.

Though she had only known the mercenary for a short period of time, she never thought that an enemy would be lucky enough to deal any damage. Adhira felt the first twinge of doubt in the capabilities of her unusual allies. They achieved a great victory together, but the forces that worked against them were not to be underestimated. Not even ones currently bound in cuffs under the watch of Lord Baylan. 

Hot on the trail of her scorned companion, Adhira quickly diverged to retrieve a medical kit. It would serve them well to establish a small gesture of care now more than ever — in the face of the unknown. After all, there would be no turning back at this point.

Shin secluded herself in a small washroom, her gloves discarded on the counter as she struggled to assess her wound. Her fingers lightly poked at the back of her head and Adhira saw the faintest grimace cross her sharp features. 

“Allow me to get a look,” Adhira said as she approached behind her. 

Shin’s piercing eyes tracked the Nightsister’s every movement in the reflection of the mirror like a cornered predator. “Keep your witchcraft away from me.”

“It’s a medpac,” Adhira pointed out smugly as she held the kit up. “We don’t need to trust each other, but I need you at your best and you need me at mine. Or this will all be for nothing.” 

A long beat of silence passed between them before Shin dropped her intense gaze. “Be quick.”

Adhira stepped in close and set the kit down beside Shin’s gloves. After she retrieved the hand scanner, she held it close to the source of the wound and waited. A small beep notified her of the diagnosis. “The gash isn’t too deep,” she said as she read the results. “But you have a mild concussion. I can spray the wound and give you a stimulant.”

Shin nodded.

“What is to happen with our new guest?” she asked, making conversation while she treated the mercenary’s head. Adhira’s fingers gently parted Shin’s hair to get a clear view of the cut. It did not bleed too much and what little that trickled out got lost in the light waves of blonde. She dabbed it clean with antiseptic, causing Shin to tense.

“That is up to my Master,” Shin answered dutifully, though Adhira caught a hint of frustration in her curt tone.

“Will she cause problems?”

“Surely.” 

Adhira hummed thoughtfully as she used bacta spray to close the cut. “I suppose we’ll see. But if the Mandalorian stands in the way of our goal, I won’t be as foolishly merciful as your Master.”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Shin turned, snatched Adhira by the throat and pinned her to the far wall with enough force that she wondered if she might need the bacta spray next. A grunt pushed out of her lungs as the canister flew out of her hand and clattered onto the floor. Apart from that, the washroom fell completely silent. Shin glared menacingly into the Nightsister’s eyes, but fear was not the first reaction Adhira felt.

“She is mine to deal with.”

#oc insp: Imogen Kol #oc insp: adhira berkana #ship insp: the stars in between #ayyy throuple ship name #i have an affinity for fucked up sw women can you tell

[au-mashup-party]

Okay so a lot of people have been asking me “Who’s the purple skeleton”? “What are his intentions”? “Is he a villain”? Well I decided to summon it all up in one master post!

Who is the purple skeleton? Simple, his name is Emperor Xirus Corrupto, or just Xirus is fine. He is one of the higher ranked gods of Hacker’s old AU, and one of the strongest. His purpose? Nobody knows!

What does he look like? Easy!

He’s a black skeleton with a glitchy appearance and a corrupted stature. His eyes are blueish-purple and resembles that of a glitchy TV screen. He wears a dark gray and purple coat with a fury purple hood and fur surrounding the sides. He wears a purple royal gown under it with the family’s royal symbol sued on in the middle. The weird purple symbol line thing on the side of his coat represent the higher status, his teeth are the same color as his eyes as well as his nonexistent nose. He wears a violet faded purple cape on his back, which was a present from his father before his retirement.

Now we’re gonna talk about what he can do and what his personality is:

He has the power to corrupt anyone just by touching them, or if they touch him by default, no matter if the person may be strong or weak, powerful or powerless, nothing can get past his control, and if it can, he’ll find a way around it.

When someone is corrupted, it takes about a 30 seconds before the task is complete. If the person who is being corrupted, excepts their fate, the corruption will happen 10 times faster, causing it to be way less painful.

If he sees something he likes, he will take it without hesitation. that, or he will send one of his subordinates out to take it. If the subordinate fails at a task, they will be punished, but not killed.

He doesn’t exactly kill anyone, he believes he has no need to. He believes all AUs deserve a chance of being useful.

He doesn’t technically need to fight anyone, he gives the victim 5 chances to defend themselves, and if they fail, he will simply approach them, and tap them on the forehead.

He loves a good show, he would often spy on AU’s or just meddle with them for fun, by simply disguising himself as someone else and then corrupting people that way.

He’s generous when he wants to be, but don’t be mistaken, he sees through your manipulation, as if you were a transparent book of lies.

Being emperor to him is just like any other job, all those who challenges authority will be corrupted, end of story. He doesn’t have to get angry or frustrated.

When in his presence it’s best that you bowand refer to him as “my lord” or “emperor xirus”, make him happy and you will be spared.

 He has his tiny moments of being an adorable piece of crap, and he isn’t afraid to admit it.

“I bet he’s not even that strong like the other famous sanses, he’s just another cringey glitchy sans”. 🙄

EHH!! Wrong!!!

Side note: Looks can be deceiving sometimes, and just because it’s not worldwide famous like other powerful sanses,it doesn’t mean that he lacks the potential to be included as well. It is not a competition to see which Sans in the multiverse is the best after all, it’s all in good fun and for plot purposes only. Have your own opinion but don’t judge others because of their own. Thank you for your time. Now please continue with the next fact.

This place is known as the Corruption Haven, we’re all the AU’s and souls of “the foolish ones” as he calls it, are corrupted and left in the void of endless despair to serve him for eternity, no one can escape this place, only he has the power to free you.

Below that is The River of Despair, the only way to get across is by talking to the Royal Guardian of The Haven, you’ll need to pay one Corrupto Coin to get across without falling in.

Things you need to know when sending him questions:

He likes to be referred to as: Emperor, or his Royal highness, or my league.

He accepts gifts and food, I recommend bringing burritos, he loves them for some reason.

You can say hi, just don’t get too close to him, or don’t let him get too close to you, he’s unpredictable when he carries the same expression all the time

If he can’t answer a question, his subjects will do it for him.

OK that’s all gotta go Byeeee!

Update: Xirus has two brothers, in total making them triplets, each with a different personality, but powerful as one.

#emperor xirus corrupto #xirus!sans #xirus’s master post #undertale au #undertale multiverse #utmv #undertale blog #xirustale #sans au #glitchy sans #emperor

[sgrumby]

“A terrible, tragic accident,” Harrowhark intoned.

“Accident?” Gideon exploded. “You broke both his ankles so bad that every fucking nun in the entire House couldn’t put them back together!”

“A tragedy most terrible and, indeed, most accidental,” Harrow repeated, her tone entirely unchanged.

Aiglamene coughed, in a manner the jaded captain probably considered subtle. “Accident or not -”

“A tragic accident,” Harrowhark corrected, at the exact same time as Gideon deadpanned “how is this even a question.”

“Accident or not,” the captain repeated, with a frankly incredible amount of restraint, “this now leaves the Ninth House down one cavalier.”

“What a shame,” Gideon said. “Ortus was a good cavalier, he’ll be missed, et cetera. Guess you’re up, Aiglamene.”

If Gideon didn’t know better, if she hadn’t known that the captain had had all her emotions surgically removed and replaced with more swords, she’d have said that the look that flashed across Aiglamene’s face was wistful. “Would that I could serve the Ninth in this undertaking,” she said, eventually. “But, Reverend Daughter, I am too old. I cannot meet the standards required of a cavalier of the Ninth House.”

Gideon thought this was bullshit. “That’s bullshit. The standards of a Ninth cav are has two hands, can hold bones,” Gideon said. “I saw it in the handbook. Anyway, there’s no alternative here! It’s not as if cavaliers are lined up around the block. Lachrimorta and Aisamorta aren’t what you might call spry - and captain, honestly, you could kick the ass of any proper cavalier anywhere. You're a damn sight better than Ortus."

Harrowhark cleared her throat.

“Look,” Gideon said, as if preventing Harrow from speaking would prevent the conclusion to this conversation that she felt rapidly approaching. “I know what you two are angling for here. And, I want to say, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take Ortus in a wheelchair.” When this didn’t land, she continued. “I’ll take Lachrimorta. I’ll take the skeleton of my dead mother. I’ll - I’ll - I’ll take Crux.”

Harrowhark’s eyebrows rose a full one-eighth of an inch. This was, for her, the equivalent of bending double with laughter. “You are desperate.”

“Harrow,” Gideon said. “I would not take you with me if you were the last swordswoman alive. I would not take you with me if we were handcuffed together. I would not take you with me if the Ninth House was just me and you and the corpse in the Tomb. I’d break in there and take it instead of you.”

“You require a capable cavalier, loyal to the Ninth and to the Tomb,” Harrow said. “No other options are forthcoming.”

“You’re a snake, Harrow. You don’t know what loyal means,” Gideon said. “Bringing you would be like drinking a tall, frothy glass of cyanide before I hopped in the shuttle.”

Harrow smirked, just a little. “You pay me a compliment, Griddle," she said.

“Aiglamene,” Gideon tried, but the captain just shot her a look. Gideon changed tack and flexed, hard. Even she had to shield her eyes slightly. “I’ll be my own cavalier.”

“Reverend Daughter, do you want to leave the Ninth?” This was a low blow, only exacerbated in its impact by the lack of reaction to Gideon’s frankly awe-inspiring biceps, and Aiglamene let it sink in for a few moments. “Because this is your chance. Ortus was not the ideal choice for cavalier primary, but he had the manners and the training. He would have sufficed. That route is no longer available to us, for good or for ill. Harrowhark… may also not have been your first choice. But she wants this as badly as you do.” She paused again. “If the choice is Harrowhark or eternity in Drearburh…?”

Gideon scowled. On one hand, eternal torture. On the other, Drearburh. She opened her mouth to answer, winced, and closed it again. She opened it again, and closed it again. "If those were my only choices…"

"I also possess one important aspect you lack," Harrow said. "Well, one of many. Literacy. You will have to study, Griddle, and I promise to read aloud for you."

Gideon glared. "That's it. I'm not taking you. I'll animate a skeleton cav, that'll probably seem pretty Ninth. Anything is better than you. I'd rather die. I'm not doing it, I won't, and you can't make me -"

-

"Harrowhark the Ninth!" Teacher called, and Harrow strode, with a smirk, up to the little priest to claim her key ring. Gideon fumed.

#writing #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb