#oh look i'm out of hibernation and writing again

[ash-overthinking]

In Defiance {Chapter 1}

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Main Characters/Pairing(s): Hargreeves-Family centric; Number Five centric (ish). Canon Pairings.

Chapter: 1/11

Fic Summary:

Five took a day to recalibrate after he and his family parted ways on the hallowed grounds where the Obsidian had once stood. Then, he got back to work.

Unfortunately, the Hargreeves family is more divided than ever, the clock is ticking in more ways than one, and Reginald has more power up his sleeve than any of them could have guessed. When the status quo is shattered and their respective realities become bleaker than ever before, will they be forged anew or irreparably broken?

Read it on AO3

Listen to the Playlist

#tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five hargreeves #tua fic #writing #hargreeves siblings #i say five-centric but it's really sibling centric and he's just kind of the lynchpin of it all #alternating pov #fanfic #tua s3 #angst #timeline shenanigans #number five the boy #oh look i'm out of hibernation and writing again #wasn't going to share here until I had more than the first chapter sooo ch2 is now up and here we are #number five #Spotify

[stop-talking]

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 5)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 4k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, lots of fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

To celebrate a week of sobriety, you decide to surprise Derek with a cake.

Of course, since there isn't exactly a bakery on a remote island, you had to bake it yourself.

Which you did. Last night. Now you stand in the kitchen, wondering how exactly you should decorate the damn thing.

And what to write on it?

"Congrats, maybe now you'll live past 40!" No, that's morbid.

"Bye-bye blunts and blow!" Too cringy.

"Happy one-week?" Hmm... that sounds like an anniversary thing.

Damnit. Maybe this isn't a situation that calls for cake after all. You sigh and continue to mumble random slogans to yourself as you slather the icing on nice and thick.

It looks a little messy, but you're not exactly a professional baker. Which is unfortunate, because that's probably exactly what he's used to. Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right?

You just want to show him how proud you are. He really has changed a lot over the past week, surprising you every day with how... normal he can be. When he wants to, at least.

Picking up a piping bag of green icing, you start placing decorative dollops around the edge of the cake. Some of them are a little lopsided, but it doesn't look too bad overall.

What now? You mindlessly lick some stray icing off your wrist and stare down at the gaping blank space in the middle of the cake.

Eventually, you settle on three words.

"Proud of you."

It's fitting. He has a lot to be proud of. Not just the sobriety stuff, but everything.

He's been picking up new skills every day. You smile as you tidy up the cake decorating mess strewn about the counter, thinking back to your first time cooking with Derek.

He'd been cocky and overconfident, and so utterly dumbfounded when that pancake met a splatter-y death on the stovetop.

And yet, he still got back up and tried again. After relentless pestering from you, obviously, but it still counted.

You stand back and survey your work. Cream colored icing, green lettering, and... okay, maybe the hearts were a bit much. Hopefully he didn't get the wrong idea. You're just... proud. That's all.

Now the only thing missing is Derek. He went upstairs an hour or so ago for a nap, mumbling something about a headache. Poor thing.

He's been so damn clingy lately, always touching you in some way or another. It seemed almost subconscious for him at times. A hand on your shoulder, his knee against yours, an arm around your waist... no matter what you were doing, he had to have physical contact.

You smile as you make your way upstairs to his room. Maybe today would be the day you finally give him a proper hug.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of you calling out his name.

Usually, that would be a welcome sound. You're always such a good distraction from his withdrawals.

But right now? He just wants to sleep. No, more than that. He wants to hibernate, to go into a goddamn coma and never have to wake up again.

"Can I have another twenty minutes?" He croaks, lifting his head from the mess of pillows to call out to you.

Apparently he can't, because he hears the door click open, and you peek your head in through the crack.

Derek just groans and buries his face back into the bed. His sheets and blankets are a tangled mess, and he's twisted himself into an awkward angle throughout his nap.

"Come on, It's been over an hour already." Derek can feel the bed shift as you take a seat on the edge.

"Well I'm still fuckin' exhausted." He mumbles into the pillow, not bothering to turn and look at you.

"Derek. You should know by now I'm not gonna let you rot in bed all day."

The almost sarcastic tone in your voice is what finally breaks him. This week has been hell, and you're just mocking him.

He hasn't only given up drugs this week, but all of his servants and staff as well. It was one thing to help you with cooking, but yesterday you'd made him do laundry. LAUNDRY. What the fuck did he look like? A maid?

"Fuck off." He grumbles a little louder, pushing your hand away as you reach to play with his hair.

His sour attitude apparently doesn't deter you any, because he can hear you laughing at him. Derek grits his teeth and finally sits up, glaring at you.

"You're really fucking annoying, you know that? Always pissing me off."

The words leave his mouth before he can really think them through, and when he sees your smile fall he immediately regrets them.

Unfortunately, he's too tired, sick, and stubborn to take it all back. Even while his heart drops into his stomach, he continues to glare daggers at you.

"Alright... twenty more minutes." With that, you slide off his bed and quickly make your way to the door.

Fuck. As soon as the door closes, Derek is left in darkness, in more ways than one.

His stomach twists into knots and he can feel his chest grow heavy. He tries to scramble after you, but gets caught in the tangle of blankets and ends up falling to the floor instead.

God damn it. Why does he always have to be such a fuck up? You aren't annoying. You're the only thing keeping him sane right now, and he goes and pushes you away.

He collapses on the floor, sighing at the feeling of the cold hardwood against his cheek. A few tears roll down his face, and he laughs bitterly as a thought crosses his mind.

Your thighs make a much better pillow than the floor.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Twenty minutes later, you knock at Derek's door once more. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and you take that as permission to enter.

The sight in front of you makes you pause. What the hell is he doing? You flip the lights on just to make sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.

They aren't.

Derek Danforth lies on the floor next to his bed, groaning and blinking up at the harsh overhead light.

"Looks real comfortable down there." You tease, setting the glass of water you brought him on his bedside table before joining him on the floor.

He refuses to look at you, throwing his arm over his eyes and groaning.

"You need to eat. And drink. I brought you some water."

Derek stays quiet as you sit next to him and place a hand on his shoulder. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and he's still hiding behind his arm.

"Why are you so goddamn nice?" He finally groans.

"We've already had that talk."

"Okay, then why are you so goddamn nice even when I'm being a prick?"

You move his arm away from his face, and he doesn't fight it. When you finally get a look at him, it's obvious he's been crying.

Derek Danforth. Crying on his bedroom floor. That's a sight.

A sight that really breaks your heart, actually. His watery eyes threaten to make yours overflow as well, so you quickly wipe away his tears with the hem of your shirt.

"You think I expect you to go through three weeks of rehab and not be a prick sometimes?"

Derek actually chuckles at that, and finally meets your gaze. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know."

You scoot a little closer, and gently tug at him. He takes the hint, placing his head on your lap with his cheek against your thigh.

Neither of you talk for a few minutes. He just closes his eyes and sighs as you play with his hair. Over the past week, you've learned what he likes. Tug at his curls in just the right way, and he...

Derek lets out a soft whimper and you smile. There it is.

"Wanna make it up to me?" You tease.

He glances up at you, an eager look in his eyes.

"How?"

"Get rid of this." You laugh and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling at his overgrown stubble. He most likely hasn't shaved since arriving here a week ago.

"What? You don't like it?"

"Do you?"

"..."

Derek pouts, pushing your hand away and feeling at it himself. His brow furrows adorably as he considers your words.

"It looks manly."

"There's a difference between manly and cave-man-ly."

He scoffs at that, but when you start poking and prodding at his face where his stubble has grown out, he cracks a smile.

"Fine, fine. You win. I'll shave."

He swats your intrusive hands away, then sits up and stretches.

Now that he's up and moving, you decide it's time to go. On your way out the door, you hesitate, remembering the reason you came to get him in the first place.

"Oh, don't take too long. I have a surprise waiting for you downstairs."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling at his stubble. You're right, he does look better with a trim.

He knows he should head downstairs, but his heart is beating a million times a second, and not even from withdrawals.

That little comment about a surprise? God damnit. You're teasing him. You have to be. How could you say something like that and not expect him to get excited?

Derek sighs and tucks his boner into the waistband of his boxers, then looks at himself in the mirror one more time to make sure it isn't noticeable. It's not... mostly.

Damnit. He could probably take a few minutes and rub one out, but he'd absolutely die of embarrassment if you walked in on him AGAIN.

He groans and turns to leave. Oh well. It's hidden well enough, and you'd already seen worse. Plus... maybe if this surprise is anything like his fantasies, he'd have an opportunity to use it.

"Oh, wait wait wait!" You scramble over to him as he trudges downstairs, keeping him from entering the living room.

"Are you gonna tell me what my surprise is?"

"No! Then it wouldn't be a surprise at all. Close your eyes."

Derek does as instructed, shutting his eyes tight. When feels you grab his hand and start to tug him along, he can't help but sneak a peek.

"I swear... if your Idea of a surprise is to walk me into a wall-"

"Oh, shut it." You scoff and clap your free hand over his eyes.

"Just trust me. And no peeking."

Derek grumbles, but he does trust you. A lot more than he lets on. So, he blindly stumbles along as you lead him into the... kitchen? Yeah, he's pretty sure he's in the kitchen.

"Okay, you can look." You uncover his eyes, but keep a tight hold on his hand as you beam at him.

"What do you think?"

What does he think?

What does he think?

Derek chokes up at the sight before him, and has to turn his head so you don't see the way his eyes are watering again.

A cake. You baked him a fucking cake to say you're proud of him. And he called you annoying.

"It's to celebrate being a week sober." You explain, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of his face.

He squeezes your hand tightly, but can't get any words out.

"A week." He whispers, blinking back tears. Fuck, has it been a week already? It feels like hardly a day has passed.

"Oh, love. C'mere."

Derek lets himself be pulled into your arms. He groans from your touch, melting into the embrace and burying his face in your neck.

God, this is perfect. He's wanted to be held like this for so long, but now that it's finally happening... he can't help but feel guilty.

"I'm such an ass." He mumbles into your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

"Not always." You laugh softly and pull him a little closer.

Too close. He can feel your breasts pressing against him... fuck. Any closer and you might be able to feel what he has tucked away.

"Not always?" Derek scoffs, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes.

"Is that really the best you've got to make me feel better?"

"What? You want me to lie?"

"Maybe."

He stares into your eyes, heart pounding in his chest as he suddenly realizes just how close you are. It takes everything in him not to lean in and bridge the few inch gap between the two of you.

"You look nice like this."

Derek can feel his face heating up as you cup his face with a hand. Shit, If you don't stop soon he might actually just kiss you.

"Like what?" He asks breathlessly, mesmerized by your touch.

"With a trim." You smile and run your thumb along his his stubble, eyes trailing from his jaw to his lips.

For a second, Derek is sure you're going to kiss him. He tilts his head ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flutter shut.

"So... you want a piece of cake?" You clear your throat, suddenly dropping your arms and breaking the embrace.

Of course you weren't going to kiss him. Derek gives you a half-hearted smile and nods, trying to hide just how crushed he feels.

"Yeah, sure. Cake."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"No, love, you're supposed to do the edge pieces first."

You chuckle as Derek angrily fumbles with two puzzle pieces. They quite obviously don't match, but he's trying to force them together anyways.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware puzzles had rules." He scoffs, dramatically tossing the little cardboard chunks across the table.

You'd dragged him out to the porch for a little fresh air, since he insisted he was too tired to make the five minute walk down to the beach.

"Well, they do. The biggest rule is don't throw the puzzle pieces, or you'll lose them." You laugh and continue flipping pieces over so they're facing upwards.

It hasn't been very long since you started the puzzle, and Derek already looks bored.

"Is this supposed to be fun?" He grumbles, helping you flip over pieces with one hand, the other finding it's way to rest on top of yours.

You wonder if he even notices he's doing it again. Touching you like that. You've gotten used to it by now, and usually just let it happen.

"Oh, come on. You gonna let a puzzle get the best of you, Danforth? A child could do this."

Derek makes a face and gestures to the sea of little cardboard scraps scattered across the table.

"A child could do a one thousand piece puzzle?" He scoffs.

"Okay, maybe not..." You laugh and adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"But I'm sure you can do it."

Derek's face flushes pink, and you aren't sure whether its from the praise or the way you're so casually holding his hand. Probably both. But so what if you're holding his hand? He's the one who started it.

He just mumbles something under his breath and looks back down at the table, suddenly very motivated to help you pick through the pieces.

His hand doesn't leave yours.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

He gasps and tries to sit up, but finds he's stuck.

Er, not stuck, just... underneath you?

"Come on, love. You slept through nearly the whole movie." You laugh softly and start to nudge him off your lap.

Derek finally remembers what's going on, and pulls his arm out from under you. Apparently he'd tucked it beneath your knees while he slept, because he sure didn't remember doing it.

"Told you a chick flick would put me to sleep." He mumbles, fumbling to sit up. He finds his other arm is also stuck, wedged in between your waist and the couch.

"Sure made yourself comfortable, huh?" You tease, scooting forward and freeing him.

"Shut up." Derek reluctantly pulls away from you, sitting up and looking at you with a dazed expression. He wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth and groans. That really was a good nap.

"It's just so easy to fall asleep on you." The words come out before he can really think over them, and he freezes in embarrassment. Thankfully, you seem to take it in a different way than he meant it.

"Oh, am I that boring? I put you to sleep?"

"Exactly. I'm yawning already." He teases, letting out an exaggerated yawn that only earns him an elbow to the ribs.

"Hmph. Next time you can fall asleep somewhere else."

"But you're so damn comfortable." He whines, scrambling after you as you make your way upstairs. You can't leave him yet. You just can't.

"Well, your bed is plenty comfortable as well. Go to sleep."

Derek is suddenly struck with a thought, and takes your hand before you can slip away into your room for the night.

"What if..." He starts, placing his other hand on your hip and pulling you a little closer.

"What if I don't want to sleep in my bed tonight?"

You give him an incredulous look, and Derek can hardly believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Fuck, you're going to reject him. He just knows it.

"My bed?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the way his hand is gripping your hip.

Derek can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He's being WAY too forward, and probably seems like a creep. Damnit.

"I... I just won't be able to sleep without you. I know it." He stutters, stumbling over his words. It's the truth, though. The only time he's been able to sleep peacefully lately is when he's touching you.

"Derek, love..." You chuckle and start to brush his hands away, taking a step back.

Fuck. He needs to show you how serious he is about this.

"Please? Just for tonight?" He grabs both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his as he meets your gaze. You said he has puppy-eyes or something, right? Derek does his best to look pitiful.

It's not hard to do. He really does feel pitiful in this moment, begging you so blatantly. He might as well get on his fucking knees.

"Fine." You finally relent, groaning and gently shoving Derek aside as you head into your bedroom.

"But I hope you know I kick in my sleep."

"I don't mind taking that risk."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly getting ready for bed, you settle down under the covers while Derek stands awkwardly to the side.

"Well? You gonna join me?" You ask, patting the spot next to you.

God, how did you get roped into this? Him and those damn puppy eyes. He's so hard to say no to.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Derek scrambles to climb into bed beside you. He looks like he's having just as much trouble believing what's happening.

"Sleeping with you wasn't really in my job description, you know. I'm complaining to your mother after this."

"Please don't." He groans, squirming and getting comfortable under the shared blanket. He keeps his distance, seeming content just to be in the same bed as you.

"You gonna sleep in that?" You lift the blanket to peek at his outfit, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?" He pouts and tugs the blanket back down, acting self-conscious.

"Nothing, just... You aren't going to be hot?"

"Are you trying to get me to take my pants off, sweetheart?"

"God, no. I've seen enough of that."

Your teasing clearly gets to him, because he rolls over to face away from you, grumbling. You swear his ears are a little pink. Is he blushing?

"Oh, love. I'm just messing with you." You scoot a little closer to him, and put a hand on his waist.

"I know." He whispers, breath hitched.

"Is it okay if I do this?"

He groans when you get even closer, spooning him from behind. Your arm wraps around his waist and you press your entire body against his.

"M-maybe I will get hot..." He mumbles, but makes no effort to push you away. Instead, he completely melts under your touch, relaxing against the pillow.

"Keep your pants on, Danforth."

"Yes ma'am."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek has been in bed with you for what feels like hours, (though really only around half of one), and he still can't believe what's happening.

Your arm is around his waist, holding him tight while the rest of your body is pressed up against him. He can feel your breasts pressing into his back, and your lips on his neck.

He almost wishes you'd kiss him, but that would probably send him over the edge.

And God, is he dangerously close to the edge right now.

His heart is pounding, heartbeat in synch with the throbbing in his pants. He's been hard ever since you cuddled up to him, but no way in hell is he going to ask you to stop. Not ever. Even if it kills him.

Scratch that. It is going to kill him. Derek can't help but let out a whimper as his dick twitches in his sweatpants.

Fuck. Your hand is right there, on his stomach. If you'd just slide it down a little...

"What's wrong?" You mumble, giving him a tight squeeze and nuzzling against the back of his neck.

"O-oh. Just... headache... Don't feel good..."

He feels like a total prick for lying to you, but what is he supposed to say? Yeah, totally fine, just horny as fuck? He'd rather die.

"Aww... I've got you, love."

Derek's breath hitches as you throw your leg over him. He can feel your thigh pressed up against his side, and the way you squeeze him feels heavenly.

He whimpers again, and starts to squirm slightly in your grasp. Fuck, if you keep this up he's not going to be able to control himself.

You continue to gently squeeze, rub, and cuddle him, whispering words of comfort with your lips pressed against the back of his neck. He can feel your hot breath on him, your breasts against his back, your hand on his stomach, your leg wrapped around his...

He can feel everything. And it's driving him insane.

Okay, okay, fuck. He can fix this. He just needs a quick release. That's all.

Derek starts to form a plan in his head, fueled by desperation and lust. Once he's mostly sure you're asleep, he slips his hand down into his boxers.

Biting back a moan, he slowly starts to jerk himself off. Painfully slow. He can't risk waking you up.

It's so fucking hard to not go faster, or move, or make a sound. Fuck, it's just so hard. Period.

He didn't really think this through, huh? Asking to sleep in your bed. Next time he'll jerk off first. If there is a next time. Damnit. If you catch him like this, you'll never speak to him again. He's sure.

Trembling, he accidentally lets a small whine slip out. Even with the absolute minimum amount of stimulation, he's close to finishing.

"Hnngh... Derek? You okay?"

Fuck. You're awake.

"Huh? Yeah, just... nightmare..." He chokes the words out, hand still wrapped around his cock as he slowly milks out a steady trickle of precum.

"It's okay." You whisper, holding him even tighter. "I'm right here."

Yeah, and that's the his damn problem. Your words and touch send him spiraling over the edge, and he bites his lip with nearly enough force to draw blood as he comes in his sweatpants.

It's not the most satisfying orgasm, seeing as he could barely touch it... but it still feels so much better than being that fucking horny with no release.

"Thank you..." Derek groans, praying that you don't ever discover the double meaning behind his words.

He had originally planned to sneak away and clean himself up, but with the way you're clinging to him...

Fuck. Guess he's sleeping in wet sweatpants.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Oh my goddd, sorry for such a long wait on this chapter!!! I've been wanting to write this scene FOREVER, but I also wanted to get it right!!

I love putting Derek in uncomfortable situations. Not sorry.

Also its crazy to me that I've written 16 thousand words of fanfic for a character that had 20 minutes of screen time and then fucking DIED 💀

Anyways... expect the next chapter in 2-3 days. Thanks for all the love and support!!!

Part 6

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #josh hutcherson x you #derek danforth x you #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #fluff and angst #slowburn fic

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

Summarising every single HTTYD movie, short and episode in roughly one sentence:

HTTYD 1:

ADHD incarnate befriends Death: The Dragon and with the power of friendship they OH GODS OH FUCK OH HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

Legend of the Boneknapper:

Gobber likes to tell campfire stories

Book of Dragons:

DreamWorks attempts to write a reader POV fanfiction

Gift of the Night Fury:

Critical series lore in a Christmas special?? Yeah seems normal for this franchise

Riders of Berk:

1. Mildew tries to get a bunch of teenagers executed or some shit

2. Solidifying Gobber as a total madlad: The episode

3. Hot take: You can skip this episode, it's arguably the worst one in the franchise, but you WILL miss a penis joke so there's that going for it.

4. Toothless develops an Older Sibling complex over Beyblade: The Dragon™ and HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THAT???

5. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, MILDEW?? I mean I knew you were an ass but I didn't expect THIS??

6. "The films aren't anything like the books!" UM, ACTUALLY- (aka the episode where Hiccup goes full-on Book!Hiccup mode and Alvin is nothing like his book counterpart but the rest of the outcasts are)

7. "Look at this super dangerous dragon I found! I'M GONNA WRESTLE IT!!"

8. Hiccup has body image issues

9. Mildew gets bitten in the ass (SATISFYING)

10. The Mary Sue: Part One

11. The Mary Sue: Part Two

12. Oh yeah Snotlout's dad is an abusive cuck who can go fuck himself I'm not even joking. Love Snotlout tho I gotta say.

13. "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! STRIKE ME DOWN, ZEUS!! YOU DON'T HAVE THE BA-"

14. Toothless has a mortal enemy apparently and it is fucked up

15. (Dagur fanboys start screaming in the distance)

16. Snotlout fixes his mistakes (they were very big mistakes)

17. VALKA??? VALKA MENTION??? HICCUP HAS A DRAGON PLUSHIE??? (silently weeping by the end of the episode)

18. Fishlegs and Snotlout piss off some helicopter parents who are also Invisible Acid Dragons™ (ohhhhhh no)

19. Are there... other Night Furies????

20. Lol no BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT THERE IS-

Defenders of Berk:

1. Fight Club reference

2. That one time Meatlug became magnetic and almost died

3. Dagur is gay for Hiccup but like in a yandere way

4. Whoever designed the Screaming Death must have been on a particularly fucked up slice of magic mushroom because I've never seen something more in need of holy water than that dragon (my childhood favourite :D )

5. Snotlout's dad is a fucking asshole but I never thought he'd stoop that low

6. Behold: My second favourite dragon who canonically killed Astrid's uncle

7. They tried to train Terrible Terrors in this episode, guess how that went lmaooo

8. (grabs more holy water) IT'S BACK.

9. Hey remember Tiny Beyblade Dragon? Yeah now he's kinda sorta the size of a house. Meanwhile everything is on fire (twin's fault)

10. Behold: My favourite dragon's frozen carcass preserved in ice- I mean my favourite dragon is hibernating in ice- I mean OH SHIT OH FUCK HOLY FUCKING SHIT OH NO-

11. Dagur subjugates my favourite dragon and then karma bites him in the ass

12. Snotlout and Gustav are an anxiety/adhd wombo-combo

13. Ruffnut cuts her hair short to save the life of a really cute dragon and Dreamworks was too pussy to keep it like that for the rest of the season.

14. (darude sandstorm plays)

15. The dragons get high and try to kill each other

16. Toothless is on drugs (I'm not even joking, during the Toothless POV shots you can literally hear stoner music playing)

17. Dagur with helmet hair Dagur with helmet hair Dagur with helmet hair

18. THORNADO NOOOOOOOOO T-T

19. ALVIN, DAGUR, SNOTLOUT AND THE SCREAMING DEATH. HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO GET BETTER THAN IT ALREADY IS???

20. IT GOT BETTERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

Dawn of the Dragon Racers:

The gang got new fits and invented a sport

Race to the Edge S1:

1. Oh shit, Dagur's out of prison, better go chase him down and OOOH, SHINY TELESCOPE THINGY?? (Hiccup is a magpie apparently)

2. Gothi once again proving herself to be an absolute madlad

3. Hiccup and the gang move out of home because telescopy thingy told them to. What could possibly go wrong? (GONE WRONG)

4. Welcome to our new home on Dragon's Edge! It's been years since we've been able to function effectively as a team, and Tuffnut's been smoking way too many hallucinogens lately OH FUCK HE WASN'T HALLUCINATING OH FUCK ME

5. Snotlout is gay for Fishlegs

6. NOT GUSTAV NOOOOOOOO

7. Basically what happens when you put me in charge of anything

8. "Look at this super dangerous dragon I found! I'M GONNA WRESTLE IT!!"

9. Fishlegs and Snotlout are gay

10. THE MARY SUE IS BACK AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH

11. WELL THAT PLOT TWIST CAME OUTTA NOWHERE

12. (darude sandstorm vocoded to running in the 90s plays)

13. they made girl dragon pink

Race to the Edge S2:

1. Astrid becomes that "SHOW ME YOUR WAR FACE" guy basically

2. SCOTLAND FOREVER!!! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 (new villain alert and he is AWESOME)

3. MARY SUE IS WORKING FOR THE VILLAINS NOW???

4. Dreamworks introduces Dragon Werewolfism and does NOTHING with this concept after this episode?? What a ripoff!

5. Fuck Snotlout's dad so much

6. Hiccup punches Snotlout in the face and knocks him out which is no surprise considering he is God of Dragons

7. MARY SUE WAS SPYING ON THE VILLAINS ALL ALONG NOW???

8. Two people and a singular dragon try to fight off an entire armada

9. They succeed somehow

10. Oh hey it's a HTTYD 2 dragon (Free Willy parody? You couldn't have done anything more original?)

11. SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!!

12. Prepare to thirst in 3... 2... 1: (Viggo appears)

13. If you thought Dagur was homosexual, you aren't prepared for how gay Viggo gets

Race to the Edge S3:

1. Dagur did WHAT NOW???

2. Fuck Cavern Crashers so much but SNOTLOUT SNOUTLOUT OI OI OI!!!

3. Sword in the Stone parody?? Are all the Fishlegs episodes story parodies now??

4. Did... Did they try to portray Snotlout's dad as being in the right in this episode?? Ew fuck that.

5. Viggo almost caused Covid-19

6. Hiccup forgets that not everyone has ADHD and the dragons go completely fucking feral

7. This show loves to force romances, doesn't it?

8. I think these people took HTTYD/Pokemon crossover fics a bit too far

9. A musical episode which has a reason to exist. Sarah Z was right all along?

10. Favourite Fishlegs episode :)

11. DAGUR DID WHAT NOW???

12. My go-to introductory episode for non-fans. It's got everything. Including Viggo.

13. OKAY BUT THAT CLIFFHANGER WAS METAL

Race to the Edge S4:

1. OH THAT FINALE WAS METAL MALA IS JUST SO METAL I LOVE DEFENDERS OF THE WING

2. If you listen closely you can hear TJ Miller in absolute hysterics in the recording booth

3. At this point in time Viggo only values Hiccup as being worth 1000 gold coins

4. I love Snotlout so much... Spitelout can go suck a bag of rocks

5. Oh fuck yes Dagur's back

6. Viggo throws a hissy fit and kisses a man and Toothless is willing to die just so Hiccup doesn't have to die alone (sobbing)

7. Everyone is high in this episode

8. "You didn't think after all we've been through I'd expose myself without some... added protection?"

9. Jumping into a volcano on purpose: The episode

10. Viggo takes a sip of water in this episode (very important)

11. It took Hiccup and Astrid over four years since their first kiss to officially start dating, but they finally did it and it was one of the best episodes in the whole show

12. Ryker has had enough

13. Viggo confesses his love for Hiccup and then fucking dies (or did he?)

Race to the Edge S5:

1. "The volcano on Dragon's Edge is a dormant volcano" THINK THE FUCK AGAIN, FISHLEGS

2. How the fuck did Gen Z: The Dragon get ahold of Viggo's sword?

3. Savage needs therapy

4. Snotlout's casual sexism almost gets him killed: Lesbian Island edition

5. If you've ever watched an elderly person try to escape a nursing home then you've seen this episode before. Just without as many bones and corpses

6. The Gays Are Back In Town ft. Gay Snotlout, Gay Fishlegs and Gay Viggo

7. "my city now" - Krogan

8. You cannot watch this episode and tell me that Viggo isn't in love with Hiccup

9. Krogan insulted Viggo's hobby and Viggo got mega salty about it

10. Astrid punches a dragon with poisonous scales and almost dies because Save Stormfly Make Anditode™, turns out she did this for no reason whatsoever because Stormfly Wasn't Dying

11. Tuffnut fakes his own death in order to make Ruffnut happy

12. Dagur not-so-casually finding his fathers dead body

13. Rage.

Race to the Edge S6:

1. My blood has never boiled so hard as it did watching this episode

2. Stoick gets played like a cheap kazzoo and regresses back to how he acted in HTTYD 1 out of sheer stress

3. THIS SHOW LOVES TO FORCE ROMANCES, DOESN'T IT?

4. Fishlegs can't believe that his ancestors were Dragon Hunters as if he wasn't once enrolled in Dragon Killing School

5. Nothing solves a sibling rivalry like teaming up to kill the annoying cousin

6. THIS EPISODE GOT AGE RESTRICTED ON NETFLIX BECAUSE ASTRID SHOOK HER TITS AT HICCUP AND DAGUR AND MALA HAVE A MUTUAL PAIN KINK

7. The twins are just. So ride or die for each other it's not even funny.

8. Viggo confesses his love for Hiccup and then fucking dies for real this time (Viggo fans start sobbing as The Winner Takes It All by ABBA starts playing in the distance)

9. Snotlout writes a book

10. What if the gang had never left Berk? What if Hiccup never shot down Toothless at the start of HTTYD 1? What if Spitelout actually loved his son?

11. Protecting an island filled with a bunch of dead dragons

12. The satisfied smirk on my face knowing what the characters don't

13. The most satisfying death in the history of mankind.

HTTYD 2:

Way to straight up ruin Hiccup's life, am I right?

HTTYD 3:

Ruining every character and spitting in the face of all that I love

Homecoming:

20 minutes of my life that I'll never get back

Snoggletog Log:

Half an hour of a fireplace and the wrong voice actors. This shit plays like a DVD menu.

#httyd #riders of berk #defenders of berk #race to the edge #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #long post #vigcup

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Tav’s sex parade – Chapter 12: Mate me, mark me, make me yours (Halsin x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, cunnilingus, biting, the feels)

Notes:

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics, Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.)

Chapter 8 is mentioned.

The snowflakes twirled through the cold air of the grey day, covering the world in its first fine layer of this year's snow like powdered sugar.

Tav was sitting in the living room, composing, while Gale wrote letters to scholars, Astarion rested in reverie, and Shadowheart was at Morena's place to help her heal some clients. Gale's mother appreciated an extra pair of hands at this time of the years when the townspeople ended up with runny noses and coughs. Scratch and Naïlo were sleeping in front of the fireplace, tightly entangled. The owlbear had grown a lot and barely fit through the doorframe anymore, but he still behaved like an over-excited puppy. It was adorable and gave them 'scary dog privilege' when going on a walk in the park with him.

Tav was in the middle of figuring out what rhymes with 'apple' when there was a knock on the front door. The bard wiped her ink-stained fingers on a cloth before getting up and opening the door.

"Oak Father preserve you, my heart. How are you?"

"Halsin!" Tav fell around his neck, beaming. "I missed you. I'm alright, and you? Come in, love."

With a chuckle, the druid entered Gale's tower house and shook off his coat and boots.

"Nature's preparing for her hibernation. The snow will cover her like a warm, protective blanket soon."

"You're always so poetic," Tav smiled. "We truly must write a poetry book together. Maybe this winter? Will you stay longer this time or did you plan to travel during the winter season?"

"I'm not sure yet," Halsin answered as he was ushered into the kitchen to sit down. "It depends on how much it'll snow – and how long I can stand the city."

"I see. You can decide spontaneously," the human bard told him. She put the kettle on the stove and piled cookies from a ceramic yar onto a plate. She put it down in front of the druid. "Here, eat some. Gale baked all of our favourites."

Halsin looked at the plate and pointed at the vanilla shortbread.

"Let me guess; Gale's favourite?"

Tav nodded grinning.

The druid chuckled, studying the assortment again. He took a crescent-shaped cookie and sniffed it.

"Cinnamon, hm... Shadowheart? She strikes me as someone who likes exotic flavours."

"You're right, kudos."

Smiling softly, Halsin grabbed a pale star-shaped pastry and took a bite.

"Lemon? That's your favourite? I wouldn't have thought that. You look more like someone who likes raisins."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tav asked, pursing her lips.

Halsin chuckled and leaned his head back to look at her.

"Your welcoming, open-minded, flamboyant nature reminds me of the people in the south - even though your skin's so pale it would burn down there. When I'm in wildshape, you smell like raisins. Somehow, I can picture you between the vineyards and the olive trees."

"And the citrus trees," Tav added. Then, she sighed. "You're awfully observant. It's almost a bit scary."

When the druid looked at her confused, she sighed again, explaining: "I am from the south and did grow up next to a vineyard."

Halsin's eyes widened in surprise and Tav chuckled. She kissed his temple and muttered: "I do like raisins, but lemons are my favourite. When I was a kid, I ate them like apples."

The druid shook himself at the thought, making his lover snicker. The latter stole a lemon cookie from the plate and shoved it in her mouth. Halsin pointed at the sticky clusters, asking: "And what are those?"

"Walnut-honey cookies. Gale thought you might like them since you love honey."

Halsin blinked at her dumbly.

"Gale baked cookies for me?"

"If course! You're family after all."

"Oh."

Touched, the druid gazed at the plate and welled up a bit. He gently took one of the misshapen cookies and took a bite. He closed his eyes and moaned as the taste of flowery honey and earthy walnut exploded in his mouth.

"Good?" asked Tav, rubbing his shoulder blades.

"Mmh, definitely my favourite," sighed Halsin. "I must thank Gale properly. They are divine."

"He should have become a cook or baker instead of a wizard," Tav agreed, stealing another lemon cookie.

Halsin did the same, happily munching on the sweet treats. The bard walked over to the stove and brew tea. She filled two cups, placed them on the table, and sat down next to the wood elf. They silently enjoyed the beverage and the pastries for a while.

"What do you think was Astarion's favourite cookie?" Halsin suddenly asked. "Maybe something with exotic, expensive spices?"

"Or cherries?" Tav wondered.

"No, peaches," the vampire spawn revealed as he strode into the kitchen. "Hello, druid. Nice to see you again."

"Oak Father preserve you, Astarion. How was your rest?"

"Good, but I'm peckish now. Can I take a nibble?"

"Sure."

Astarion stared at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"Mhm," Halsin answered with a shrug.

Licking his lips, the vampire spawn moved closer, stroke a finger along the druid's thick neck before biting down. Halsin gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. He still wasn't used to the feeling of being bitten – other than Tav and Gale. Shadowheart refused to let Astarion feed from her and he respected her boundaries. The vampire spawn drew back, licked the wound clean and then his mouth. He swayed slightly, drunk on the druid's blood, again.

"Thank you, darling," Astarion slurred and kissed him sloppily before staggering out of the kitchen to lay down in front of the fireplace.

"Your blood has an interesting effect on him. I wonder why," Tav mused.

"Me too. He only gets drunk when feeding on me," Halsin muttered. "He says I taste like a bear."

That made Tav giggle.

"And what a lovely bear you are," she teased and leaned over to connect their lips. "I'll run you a bath."

"Mmh, thank you, my heart."

They kissed again before the bard left the kitchen and the druid finished the plate by himself. Then, he got up to seek out Gale in his study. The wizard was hunched over his letters, conferring with Tara.

"Oak Father preserve you, Gale. How are you?"

"Oh, hello Halsin. It's a pleasure to have you back. How was the journey?"

"Good. We'll talk about the details over dinner."

"Of course. Excuse me, I have to finish these letters first before I can start cooking."

Gale turned his attention back to his work.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Halsin," Tara said and purred as she accepted the druid's caresses.

"It's nice to be back. Thank you for the cookies, Gale. They're delicious," Halsin said, smiling.

"Oh? I'm glad you like them," the addressed replied with a sigh of relief. "I didn't know what you prefer, but when Tav said you like honey, I remembered this recipe."

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart," the druid told him. He didn't know how to show his gratitude or how to repay the favour, thus, he did the only thing that was able to express his feelings; he gave Gale a tender kiss. The wizard gasped in surprise, but placed a hand on Halsin's chest immediately. When they parted, they leaned their foreheads together.

"Thank you," whispered the druid. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Mh, I can only assume," mumbled Gale, still slightly overwhelmed by the sudden kiss.

"Halsin! The bath's ready!" yelled Tav from the bathroom.

Halsin smiled and kissed Gale again before he left the room.

"What a lovely way to show his gratitude," purred Tara, highly amused.

Gale hummed, dazed, and went back to work.

At the dinner table, Halsin told them about his journey. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands had recovered and the wildlife was returning, slowly but steadily. Soon, the area would be suitable for people again, but Halsin was torn.

"It had been my home before the Shadow Curse claimed the lands. I always dreamed of returning, but now, that I can, I'm unsure about it. It feels so different now. The energy's not the same, nature has changed, and it doesn't feel like my homelands anymore." The druid sighed melancholically. "But I'm sure the lands would serve the refugees well. They're not welcome in Baldur's Gate and are forced to live in misery. Maybe, if I'd guide them to Thaniel's Realm, they'll find new hope and a new home."

After said gloomy words, Halsin changed the topic and handed Gale a set of ceramic soup bowls that he'd bought in Mirabar. The wizard marvelled at the craftsmanship and gushed over the design; dark blue background with yellow stars, moons, and suns.

"You were in Mirabar again?" asked Tav.

Halsin nodded.

"I saw the beautiful ceramic ware last time, but didn't buy anything. Winter Solstice is near and your hospitality's always wonderful, thus, I thought I'll bring you a gift to show my appreciation."

"Thank you, Halsin, but you're not just a guest here, you're family," Gale told him, looking serious.

The druid was taken aback and averted his gaze.

"Am I? Hm... thank you. That's... an honour, truly," he mumbled, blushing slightly.

"Of course you are," Gale replied with a smile. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Tav nodded in agreement and the latter placed her hand on Halsin's.

The druid welled up a second time this day.

The conversation had lit a fire in his belly, something he'd never felt before, and it overwhelmed him. Halsin possessively placed a hand in Tav's neck as he kissed her hungrily. Even though he'd had dinner, he was starving. With a growl, he grabbed the bard's buttocks and hoisted her onto his hips. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"What's on your mind, love? You're acting strangely," Tav panted.

Instead of answering, Halsin kissed her again. He didn't want to talk, couldn't put into words what he felt. He dropped his lover onto the bed, hastily removing her clothes before stripping himself. Tav stretched an arm towards him to caress his cheek.

"Halsin, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Quite the opposite actually," he answered.

Before she could keep pestering him in concern, the druid bent down and started to eat her out. Tav moaned, bucked her hips up, and sunk a hand into his hair. Halsin focused on drowning in her taste and smell. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to be. The bard mewled and came across his tongue, and Halsin moaned at the familiar taste. He didn't give her time to rest and entered her immediately. Tav whimpered but pulled him into a messy kiss. Halsin squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. It was too much, too intimate, too loving. Tav was warm and welcoming, trusting him completely. He smelled her skin, felt her breath on his cheek as she panted, her strong arms around him. Halsin drew back and looked at her. Dazed, she gazed up at him.

"Halsin, love, what's –"

The addressed pulled out, flipped her over, and pushed her head into the mattress.

"Stop talking. Please," he pleaded, desperately trying to gain control over his emotions and the scratching beast inside him.

Tav nodded silently and he grabbed her hips to pull her up onto her knees. Halsin entered her again with a groan and leaned over her. His thrusts were hard and fast, making the bard whimper and sob in ecstasy. The druid kissed her shoulder blade. The bear inside him spurred him on to mark his possession. To mate and mark what was his. Moaning, Halsin licked the bard's sweat off, grazing her rosy, freckled skin with his teeth. The beast roared and the druid growled irritated.

"Do it," Tav told him. "Bite me, Halsin. Mark me and make me yours."

The wood elf growled again, grabbed her broad shoulder to pull her closer, and listened to his natural instinct. He sunk his teeth into the nape of Tav's neck, biting down until he could taste blood. The bard gasped and groaned, but kept perfectly still. A shiver ran down the druid's spine, it felt like he was lit aflame, liquid fire running along the bones. A mating bite. Marking someone as his. His.

Mine, Halsin's brain screamed and he moaned as his climax hit him like a boulder. Colours exploded behind his closed eyelids and his ears were ringing. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto Tav who got squished into the bed under his weight. At the moment, Halsin neither noticed nor cared, his brain was still caught up in the fact that he'd marked his lover. It hadn't been a new feeling, he'd had the urge to bite for as long as he could remember, but he'd never acted on it. Halsin had never marked a lover before. It had been a big no-no, too animalistic, even for his taste. Something he'd been ashamed of and had always controlled – until now. Halsin finally unclenched his teeth and lazily tongued the bleeding wound and rolled off of Tav to let her breathe properly.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out huskily.

"Don't be," she replied, way too calmly for someone who'd just been mated and marked like an animal.

"Why aren't you freaked out by this?"

Tav just shrugged nonchalantly.

Halsin's non-bear brain started panicking.

"I- I bit you. Marked you. I left a mating bite on you!"

"I know," the bard replied, stretching languorously.

The druid stared at her in disbelief and repeated: "I left a mating bite on you."

Tav looked at him with a smile and stroke his cheek.

"I know," she said and kissed him sweetly. "I'm yours."

"You're mine," Halsin whispered, pulling her into another kiss.

The beast in him was sated, satisfied, and the druid felt as content as he hadn't in a long while. Tav was his, and now, the entire world could see it.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #halsin x tav #halsin #tav #smut #mind the trigger warning #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #astarion ancunin #shadowheart

[legacyshenanigans]

Hello B I've crawled out of my cave to wish you a wonderful day and also share this really weird thing I've had stuck in my head for the past few days. ❤️🐲🏔️

Now a crazy idea I just had and it's probably just my preference (it's definitely, 100% a dragon thing) but hear me out:

Marvolo and Ominis with fangs and tongues like snakes.....I know it's a weird fantasy but for some reason I can't get it out of my head, and at least with Marvolo it would kinda fit, (that man has a personality of an actual viper) 🐍

Like imagine him having his way with MC and than he just chops her....lord have mercy I'm way too bothered over this...

Also I could see him constantly fighting with Rowan over whose fangs are more intimidating, and Ominis could use the snake tongue like an actual snake to navigate himself around....(this sounds like such a fever dream)

Sorry for just dumping this weird mess onto you like this out of the blue but if I don't write it somewhere I'm gonna go crazy.

Now excuse my while I crawl back to my den and hibernate in shame. 🏔️

Have a lovely day B, with lots of love your little Dragon friend. ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💙

Hey little Dragon 😊 I weirdly love that! Oh Marvolo would be alot more scary with it than Ominis would in general yeah haha. So here's some small little scripts on the things you said💚🐍💚

Sebastian: Shit, we're lost..

Ominis: Hmmm *stands there doing little snake wiggles his tongue, then smiles towards Seb, baring his sharp little fangs* This way *wanders off to the right*

Sebastian: ....

Marvolo: *His body atop MC's, holding himself up, by his hands either side of her, smirking down at her* Are you ready?

MC: Mhm *moves her head back for him and giggles*

Marvolo: *looking at her neck, his eyes widen for a moment, his pupils narrowing sharply as he opens his mouth slowly with a deep hiss, two sharp pointed fangs extend as he moves down and drives them into her skin*

Rowan: Mine are better *frowns*

Marvolo: *narrows eyes and grins, the small fangs showing* Think again.

Rowan: *slams his hand down on the table and growls loudly, showing his fangs*

Marvolo: *slams HIS hands on the table, opening his mouth widely, the fangs extending longer, with a loud hiss*

Rowan: (?!)

Marvolo: *raises a brow and smirks*

~

#marvolo gaunt hc #marvolo gaunt #marvolo gaunt headcanon #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt headcanon #rowan the wolf

[aladaylessecondblog]

Six Questions (raphael x tav, pt 8)

Tw: Raphael is his own warning, no sex though

stg I'm doing some Gortav next, just had to write enough to shut Raphael up. mf thinks he's special enough to get two chapters at a time

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

Wyll left, thanking her in the morning and saying briefly that she'd given him much to think about.

The days kept passing. Raphael's visits started happening weekly, and stopped involving her mouth. But she had other things to think about, and when he left her attention drifted to anything else she could lay it on.

Spring was nearly here, but the wind was still chilly, and so Tav wrapped the bearskin cloak around herself.

She'd made it ten years ago...needing a mindless task to occupy her time while she decided what to do, after finding her two loves dead. She'd sat in camp, cleaning Halsin's bloody pelt, preparing it, until it was ready. She didn't dare to use it as a rug--that felt too disrespectful.

In the end she'd made a cloak out of it, but after marrying Gortash she'd hidden it away--feeling almost like his dead eyes would be on her at every worst possible moment.

And then she'd started to love Gortash, and...

...she wrapped the cloak more tightly and moved out the door, activating the spell of Disguise Self. Had it not been for the vitiligo she might have been able to pass unnoticed, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

What are you so afraid of?

"Everything," Tav whispered under her breath. She only went because she was relatively certain she could avoid seeing Halsin. And given the fading winter, he might sleep more than usual. Assuming he didn't simply hibernate the entire time in his bear shape.

It would be better not to see him before the Goblin Camp.

Or not at all?

She swallowed.

(The voices belonged to Raphael now)

Tav had needed to see what the druids might have to trade in the way of clothes and metal, and so had chanced the journey. Cald was growing all the time, and given how close the nautiloid must be to crashing...she wanted to be ready for it.

The Disguise Self spell changed her appearance to that of a middle-aged human woman, the same one she'd used for any trips too far from her home that she'd made in the past. She wasn't the sorrowful Tav, she was the reclusive and somewhat eccentric druid of the swamp, who favored spending more time in nature than with others.

It couldn't be long, she thought, when they let her through. Not long at all. She'd forgotten exactly what month it had been, but certainly all the snow had melted by then. It had been...warm. Mid-spring, maybe summer?

Six years she'd waited, and now it was nearly upon her--everything, again.

Deep breath.

A little bird moved too close; landed on her shoulder.

Oh! Apologies. I thought you were someone else. You smelled of--ah, so sorry.

And just as quickly, the bird was gone.

She met with two of the shopkeepers, providing some potions for healing various things, and getting in exchange some linen bandages, a few robes Cald's size, and--she grabbed it quickly--a piece of Infernal Iron. A visit to the smith netted her a few pieces of twisted metal, not good for swords or shields, but perhaps handy for other projects. She smiled at the thought as she looked at them. Cald could superheat them with his sparks, and adjust them into whatever shape he needed. No metal was entirely useless, everything--

Looking down at the handful of scrap metal, Tav hadn't been looking at the path ahead. She ran right into someone--stumbled back, and started apologizing. "I'm so sorry, I--I wasn't paying attention, it's not that I didn't see you there, it's just that--"

"Quite alright." A soft tone, a gentle laugh.

Don't look up.

"I...I...was just in a hurry, was all."

"On such a fine day as this?"

Halsin--

HalsinhalsinhalsinhalsinhalsinHALSIN

"I merely wanted to return home, as...as...nice as it is to see other druids. It's cold, true, but nothing I can't handle."

She wanted to run, to run until this pain was GONE, to run until she was hollow and beyond the regret that filled every fiber of her being. The perverseness of wearing the very hide of the man speaking to her was not lost on her, and she wished for a moment that the earth would take mercy upon her and swallow her whole.

"More a lover of solitude, eh? I can't say I disagree with the idea. Me...there are weeks I won't come back here at all, so consumed am I with my bearish shape."

Tav swallowed.

"Not so different from my own preference, then. I spend a fair amount of time as an owlbear...and occasionally I wonder if the day will come when I decided not to return to this shape."

That was an idea, she thought. When Cald was grown, when she no longer had to worry for his safety--

Do you truly believe that day will come, little mouse?

She took a step, and Halsin stopped her with a touch at her shoulder.

Only his thumb touched her skin, but it was enough.

(it was like being burned by a brand, it left pain behind)

He seemed to breathe deeply before speaking again. "You're pale. Are you unwell?"

"No," Tav lied, "Merely...eager to move south again. I find the swamps an easy place to gain solitude."

"Ah...I see." The smile in his voice, she could practically hear it. See it, in her mind's eye, even. "I've heard there's another resident of the area though...not the hag, of course, the--"

"The priestess of Ilmater. I've...seen her before," Tav lied. "She seeks solitude as well, though...I know not why."

"Perhaps to protect her child. I've heard they're drow, and sadly...the world is not often kind to them on the surface, Seldarine or not. Prejudice is a difficult thing to battle when one is an adult, but as a child..."

He breathed deeply again, and looked to the road.

"At any rate, I must be off. I'm hoping to investigate a temple nearby. Goblins have overrun it, and I wish to gauge the extent of their numbers."

"I've seen them," she said quickly, "You should be careful, if you intend to approach as a bear. Those little imps can swarm you in a hurry...and it would be a shame for the Emerald Grove to lose their Archdruid."

"Yet danger of this kind cannot be ignored. I appreciate the warning, however, I am certain that regardless of what happens, all will be well. All I can do is trust in the Oak Father's will, and do my best."

Does he remember? No. No, he couldn't, he'd have...

Run. She needed to run. She needed to get out of here now.

"Good to speak to you then, miss--?"

Tav thought for a moment, and struggled to come up with a name. When she finally thought of one she added, "Apologies, I...spend enough time alone that I often don't think of my name. It's...Deirdre."

"Farewell, Deirdre."

Halsin left, and the relief she'd hoped for when she'd managed not to meet his eyes the entire time did not appear.

"Farewell."

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

She'd gone back to the waypoint, and then home, and practically dropped to the ground the instant she was back.

Halsin.

She'd seen him. He'd touched her, that was--

You keep swearing you won't indulge these feelings...and really, that's the best way.

If she never loved him, it would not hurt so much to lose him, if he died.

Tav stood, gathered her things, and headed for the Teahouse.

But then, she'd thought that about Gortash, hadn't she? She'd married him because he was despicable, and that bedheaded Bane-worshipper had managed to make her love him anyway.

At least, she thought bitterly, There is one man above all too heinous for even me to--

She opened the door, and sucked in a sharp breath.

Speak of the devil...

At her table sat Raphael, once more indulging in the tea she'd left out.

"You've kept me waiting," he replied with only a slight edge in his voice.

"I was--out," Tav replied, gesturing briefly with the bags she was carrying. "The nautiloud will fall soon, and I--wanted to be prepared."

After putting the bags aside, she looked back up.

"That disguise doesn't at all suit you, mouse. Why bother with it?" he gestured over her, waved a hand--and the disguise dropped, leaving her as she had always been.

"I made a trip to the Emerald Grove, and...wished not to attract attention, should--"

"Should your bear be there," Raphael finished for her.

"He's--"

She meant to say 'he's not my bear', but she found herself looking away, jaw tensing, before looking back.

"I prefer to keep it so everyone meets as they should."

He laughed. "You could not be more transparent, my dear. Tell the truth. You were afraid he might be the one to remember, weren't you?"

Tav would have stayed quiet if she were able, but she spoke automatically, "I was."

Raphael tutted at her. "One would think that the possibility would make you HAPPY. Imagine it...he sees your mottled face, and immediately takes you to bed. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

"If anything, I've told you frequently. I plan to avoid any--any--entanglements, if I can help it. And not--" She tried to keep her tone polite, respectful, deferential, despite what she was about to say, "Not out of some sense of fidelity to--to you."

"Of course not. You're simply trying not to get your heart broken. And as I have told you frequently, if you seek one you will not lose to a madwoman's blade, all you need do is look to the man before you."

Tav swallowed.

"You don't mean a word of that," she replied, "And even if I were--to view such a proposition favorably, it wouldn't bode well for you. That--that isn't a THREAT. I've simply noticed that the men I take into my bed..."

She took the bearskin cloak off and hung it up.

"Such melancholy thoughts, mouse, will not aid you in your quest at all. Sit. Sit down, and eat."

Tav approached the table, now laden out with a teatime meal.

Scones, sandwiches, lemon curd, and--

"Battenberg cake? I'm sure Cald would enjoy that."

"This treat is only for you, mouse. The boy is busy at his workbench." Raphael paused, "So we shall not be disturbed."

Joy.

For several minutes he let Tav eat in silence, but when she finished a second plate he spoke up.

"I have in mind...something of a game."

"That sounds ominous, coming from you." She finished the last of a scone, and managed not to flinch when he reached up to wipe a bit of lemon curd off her lips.

"Regardless of your intent, I'm certain you would not want to owe...too much time on your debt. You'll be quite busy handling the matter of the Absolute and the Dead Three...and an excess of my presence could cause...inconvenient questions."

How GENEROUS of you, Tav thought sarcastically, To be so concerned with my reputation.

"So I propose a game of questions, to give you the opportunity to cut more time from your debt."

"Hearing 'opportunity' makes me think there is the distinct chance of gaining time, too."

Raphael chuckled. "That is why you are my favorite client, mouse. You're smarter than the average debtor. But you're right. I propose to ask you six questions...and for each one you answer honestly, I will cut ten minutes from your debt. Decline to answer, and you will gain ten instead. Lie to me, and you will gain thirty."

If she answered them all--an hour. An entire hour cut from the debt, without having to suffer his attentions on her knees another fifteen times, or a session with Haarlep, or worry about being caught with him by anyone at camp later on.

But at the same time...suppose I decline to answer them all...I could end up back at the halfway point.

She imagined being caught on her knees with him. The walk of shame, with all those eyes on her.

How utterly disgusted they'd all be with her.

"Would I be able to quit the game?"

"Yes, but at, let's say...a five minute penalty."

He could fit two sessions into that...

The opportunity to erase time from the debt was--tempting. Too tempting to pass up. What more could he possibly wring out of her with some questions that he hadn't already?

"Fine," she said. "Ask your questions."

Raphael gave an expression somewhere between a smile and a smirk. "Let us begin with your most recent love. Tell me, mouse -- how did your lordly husband die? Be specific."

Tav swallowed, and shut her eyes. She'd tried not to think about it, like she'd done with so much else of late.

"He didn't. I left him..."

She opened her eyes.

"Only one person could come with me. Him, or...or my son. And..."

Tav took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. No relief from closing her eyes--when she shut them, memory flooded her vision with images of Gortash. Still bleeding from Orin's madder than usual attack, burned from Cazador's attack--

"And you chose to take your son. Ever the prideful mother."

"No," Tav replied quickly. "No, E--Gortash made that decision."

Art thou certain?

Stop, she pleaded with her mind, Please, stop reminding me of this!

Raphael raised a brow, and sipped from his teacup.

"Quite the surprise. He was always a selfish sort."

He was a better man than you'll ever be, Tav thought angrily. But she schooled her face. Kept it calm, shoved the pain back.

"Very good, mouse. Ten minutes cut. Now..." Raphael looked over the rim of the cup at her. "One hour, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds."

"Next question," she said quickly. "I'm sure you have places to be...other deals to make."

"You can't rush work like mine, my dear. Now for my next question..." he added a cube of sugar to the tea, and stirred at the cup until it dissolved. "Which death weighs heaviest on you, and why?"

Tav looked away, and clenched at her knees beneath the table. Whether Raphael noticed that, or she'd lost control of her expression didn't matter. What did was that he saw some change, and pounced on her for it.

"You could always decline to answer, mouse."

She wanted to.

Gods, how she wanted to.

But those ten minutes...ten minutes of not having to kneel before him, or to be beneath him...

"Astarion's, because..." She felt a pain in her chest, like the weight of holding everything back was becoming too much. She told it to get its act together and went on, "He asked to go with me during my trip to--the House of Hope. And I said no."

She'd hated to see Astarion so disappointed...she'd promised to let him feed from her that night, when she returned.

But he would die before the night was out. Not that Halsin and Gortash's deaths hadn't hurt like the hells, but...those felt less her fault. Astarion had ASKED...if she'd only taken HIM with her.

If only, if only.

"One hour, thirty seven minutes, twenty-two seconds."

Twenty minutes cut. She could stop now and gain only another five minutes.

But the possibility of more time being cut, despite--

"What made you desperate enough to marry Gortash?"

"You don't remember? I...well...I suppose not, you, you died, and..." Tav took a shaky breath, bit her tongue for a second, and went on. "K...the hammer was swung down onto your head and it...it shattered like glass. It wasn't supposed to do that. Without the hammer, and without knowing what to do to control the elder brain, we...had to make an alliance. That was one of the conditions he set."

Another chuckle.

"And when the little lord saw a dainty before him, he could not help but gobble it up, I suppose. One hour, twenty seven minutes, twenty-two seconds. Do you wish to stop yet?"

"No," Tav lied.

She sipped quietly at her own cup of tea, trying not to meet Raphael's eyes. Every question was a ram to the gate of her mind, striking, weakening it. She knew better than to keep going, but she feared more what might happen if she kept letting him do as he liked with her body.

How many more times could she bear his attention before he shattered her entirely?

"Three more questions, then. Let's see, now...ah, yes. Why have you not told the boy whose son he is?"

The clench against her knees grew painful, even through her dress. But Tav managed to answer.

"What good would that do when his father doesn't remember us? I--can't risk leaving to try, either. He'd never believe me. I'll do it...later on. But not now."

"Ease your mind, my dear. You know-- you know, I COULD fix that for you."

"No," Tav replied automatically.

"One hour, seventeen minutes, twenty-two seconds."

Down forty minutes. Forty minutes she wouldn't have to listen to him talk at her. Forty minutes she wouldn't have to wonder what fresh sexual hell awaited her at his hands, whether there or at the boudoir.

Two more questions.

"What do you fear most from me?"

Damn it all.

"I decline to answer."

She wouldn't hand him THAT so easily. How stupid did he really think her?

"Smart decision, Tav," Raphael smirked at her. "Back up to one hour, twenty seven minutes, twenty-two seconds, however."

"Telling you the answer to that would be tantamount to giving you the Crown itself."

"Really now..."

Another chuckle, another sip of tea.

She clenched her hands into fists, ignoring the stinging pain of her nails against her skin.

"One final question, then," Tav replied. "I assume you will want to make it a good one."

"So long as you promise to answer it," Raphael replied, "I'll toss you an extra minute of time simply for an extensive answer, if you do."

She said nothing. A minute was a minute, but his question might--

"When you need to soothe your troubled mind where do you turn? Faith? The bottom of a bottle? Or perhaps...you indulge in fantasies of flesh, and convince yourself that your hands belong to that foolish husband, or--"

She realized her hands were wet, and she gave a glance down, noting--blood.

Tav took a deep breath. "Faith. I pray to Ilmater for the strength to endure everything that comes my way. And I don't drink, I'd rather not with my son in the house. And...I avoid sex--of any kind--when possible."

"Mmm." Raphael murmured, and drained the rest of his tea. "I thought otherwise, you see, because I note that you kept Haarlep's bottle."

She had the feeling she'd made a grave mistake, from the way those devil-dark eyes flashed at her, and the way his mouth lifted into the predatory grin she'd learned to fear.

"Don't feel as though you must stretch the remains of it out, mouse. I'm certain Haarlep would be more than willing to refill it for you...provided there's appropriate stimulation."

"As I said," Tav replied, in a voice that was beginning to shake, "I have no need of it myself."

A huff.

"You lie to yourself so EASILY, my dear, it's a wonder you can keep anything straight. A pity I've run through my questions....I would DEARLY love to know, after all...will you find it so easy to lie your vampire and bear?"

There was a pause, and Raphael gave a strange little laugh.

"Well, at any rate, I must be going. Let me see, I forgot to take into account our last few trysts, so...fifty minutes, and twenty-two seconds. Expect to see me soon."

A second later he was gone.

Then, and only then, did Tav reach for a napkin to clean the blood from her hands.

#you have no idea how badly i wanted tavs fake name to be eurydice #raphael is performing surgery of a mental variety #exploratory surgery you might say #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #female tav #tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #halsin #halsin bg3 #drow tav #vitiligo tav

[eileenslibrary]

Leave A Travelers Path

Pt.3

A/N: it be the time I leave my hobbit hole of hibernation to write some orcs

Warnings: supposed blood and gore, mental illness, depression, PTSD?, anger?

The sun beat down on the beasts backs as the orcs packed their belongings and strapped them to the mighty beasts.

"Krall! Come here" a young boy calls

"I'm coming! Let me finish helping Granga!"

The adolescent orc calls back.

He slides down the muddy slope with caution, only to fall on his ass.

He stands back up and rushes to the young boy

"Krall what took you so long?"

"sorry, Granga was having issues getting into the saddle due to her age"

The other boy shakes his head smiling

"Krall weakness s is what will get you killed in these lands"

"Hey! I'm not weak"

He puffs his chest out

The two boys burst out laughing

"Krall!, Flare! Get over here"

Their mother shouts

"Flare! please you don't have to do this!"

Flare glares at Krall

"You just don't understand, do you Krall"

"All my life you've been in my way! You're the reason I'm not chief! All because of some stupid heroic act put you before me! They see you as a king! You get everything I deserve!"

Flare points his axe closer to Krall's neck

Krall grabs the handle

"Six years ago, we stood in this exact location, that day I was going to kill you but I was too cowardly to hurt you because I still saw you as a brother, but now all I see is a weak, cowardly, thief. Who stole my crown!"

Flare presses the axe into Krall's neck, cutting the skin making a deep wound.

"And I can finally finish you off"

"oh and if you manage to cheat death, don't come back, I've told the group all about who you really are"

Flare growls

Krall's eyes open wide, before Flare pushed him into the icy water.

Krall tries to fight the ice to allow him to breathe but slowly he loses consciousness.

"Leah! There's a boy in the water!"

The teen runs over next to her friend

"Leah we have to save him!"

"(Name) are you crazy! Can't you tell! He's an orc! We should just let nature do its thing!"

"Who cares if he's an orc! He's still a living being with thoughts and feelings!"

(Name) runs to the icy river bank, grabbing the boys hand and pulling him into their arms

"oh Lord! his neck!"

They rush to cover his bleeding neck with their gloved hand

They pull off their fur coat throwing it over him

Leah runs over

"What are you doing!"

Leah tries to force (Name's) arms off the boy

"If they catch you with him, you're surely to be kicked from the village!"

"Then so be it! I will not stand by and watch someone die suffering that is simply not who I am!"

(Name) pulls him closer to their chest

Leah sighs

"then at least let me help you carry him somewhere safe and warm"

The two find a recently abandoned cottage on the edge of the town, previously owned by two halflings in the mining industry who found gold and jewels in some old mountains owned by dwarves.

(Name) places the young orc on a soft lounge chair, they rush into the other room to find blankets, while Leah starts a fire.

The two teens care for each other and the orc, patching up any of his wounds, cooking for all three of them, tending the fire, up until Leah had to leave for home.

"Tell my parents that I am not going to be home until tomorrow afternoon because I have accepted Anderson's proposal!"

Leah gasps before nodding and rushing off

(Name) turns towards the orc before sitting on the stool next to him and lays one of their hands on his cheek

"you're not burning up but I'll have to check again in the morning" they sigh

Before slipping into the pile of pillows and blankets and drifting into a comfortable sleep

Krall's eyes flutter open, he looks around the warm room before his eyes lead to (Names) silhouette on the floor. He slips his feet from the bed and puts them on the floor, (Name's) fur coat falling from his shoulders.

He creeps towards their sleeping form. He steps next to them and crouches down next to them. He notices bandages covering his arms and legs. He looks back at them. Huffing he pokes their cheek. They shift in discomfort, he pokes again, they swat his hand.

"Leah, stop it and let me sleep for a bit longer"

He stops, looking at them.

They shift and turn towards him eyes cracked, they gasp before sitting up

"I'm sorry you must be starving"

They stand rushing towards their bag grabbing bread before walking towards the pantry

Luckily there was enough left from the past inhabitants of the home as they wanted to leave immediately

They grab dried carrots, butter, cheese, and dried tomatoes before rushing out of the cottage scooping up snow and bringing it back inside to put in a pot before getting a fire started and putting the pot over it.

Krall watched in amazement at the human running around so early in the morning.

They melted the snow and used the water before adding the things they bought from the small shop down the road. Cream, dried tomatoes, and carrots. Before cooking up some grilled cheese and sitting down with the unexpected orc.

A few days had passed and Krall was ready for departure from the small cottage

He thanked the human for hospitality and left to figure out what to do now that he's been abandoned

Years passed and he became a well known orc chief and duke in the western empire

He still wondered where this peculiar and stubborn human is doing

He searched for them everywhere each time coming up with nothing

He eventually gave up and carried on with his life

Until a certain traveler took up a job to return a precious jewel to his manor in the western empire

He had hope that it was the human he'd been searching for.

Translation of Granga: old woman or grandmother

#fluff #angst #love #orc x reader #dnd orc #dnd races #dnd #dnd 5e oc

[nix-writes-mcyt]

hello it is the local mumbo simp

I've been seeing a hc where Mumbo in s9 is canonically hibernating in a copper cocoon (thanks grian) and will come back as a butterfly or moth! So could you write something where he comes back/wakes up and the reader sees him for the first time and is just a completely flustered mess while Mumbo is confused and a bit worried they don't like his new look? They're already in a relationship and the reader has they/them pronouns?

Soft Mumbo fluff my beloved 💕💕💕

I was not sure about this at first but I gave it my best shot I hope you enjoy it!

Copper Coloured Wings

Drabble Contains: Butterfly/Moth Hybrid!Mumbo, Fluff, Self Conscious Mumbo --------------------------------------------

Putting down the last shulker of materials has you relieved. Moving to the new location, the location of yours and Mumbo's megabase, was quite the task.

This year it had been even more of a task, as Mumbo had entered his winter hybernation late. Which meant you had to move all the resources yourself.

"I'm taking a week off once he comes out of that cocoon." You grumble, entering the nether yet again to go back to the vault.

The trip through the nether is long, you run into Impulse on the way back, who is replacing his emerald bridge yet again.

"How's the building going over at the new spot?" He asks, careful not to fall off of the bridge. "Oh you know, haven't even started." Impulse chuckles at your words.

"I imagine it was quite the task moving two sets of resources over there. I'm not looking forward to moving my one set." His smile is warm, comparable to the nether surrounding you. You've missed having him around like last season when he was just next door.

"Yeah, it wasn't fun. My advice is go when it's overcast, the sun out there is hot." Impulse nods. "I'll keep it in mind, anyway, I better get this finished off." He gestures to the bridge which was previously made entirely of emerald blocks. "Between you and me, if I catch the culprit I won't be held responsible for any tnt minecarts found in people's bases."

The two of you laugh and say your goodbyes, you leaving the nether.

The light of the overworld is, like always, just a little too bright after stepping out of the nether. Even under the shade of Scar's tree.

Everything is slightly over-exposed, the grass is bright, the vault is bright, the shiny orange and green blob that's moving is bright, even the door of the vault is bright.

Wait. Orange and green blob?

You blink a few times, eyesight returning to normal. And what you see is.. interesting. You can't really say you're sure how to react.

Mumbo is walking around in the sunlight, black suit quite the contrast to his vibrant wings. They still look a little wet, he mustn't have been out for very long.

His wings, much like his cocoon, are copper coloured. But where his cocoon started that beautiful copper orange and turned the vibrant oxidised green his wings are a number of colours.

For the most part they're orange and green, with some places where the shades are transitional. Some of these are highlighted with white specks. On each wing there is one large black spot with a small red area on the inside. Eyes, the defense mechanism.

Most would likely find them an unsettling sight, after all they are a defense mechanism to keep predators away. You on the other hand are enamoured by their beauty.

Mumbo turns slowly, catching sight of you standing there staring. "Y/n I, my wings, I didn't know." He stumbles over his words, doing his best to hide them from your view.

"What are you on about Mumbo, my love?" You say, walking over now.  "I saw them in the Hermitissippi, they just, I don't know." He frowns, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt sleeves.

"Show me properly?" You ask, Mumbo looks unsure, but turns around anyway. Slowly he stretches out his wings. At full extension they're even more gorgeous than you saw before.

The colours marry each other perfectly, blending from the rich orange to the vibrant green. The eyes are a perfect contrast to the rest of the colours, the deep back and rich red reminding you of the formal wear he so often dons.

Mumbo is quick to hide his wings from you again, turning back around with a sad look on his face. "I understand if you don't like them or want to see them or me ever again." He mumbles.

"What?" Mumbo looks confused at your question. "What do you mean what?"

"I mean whatever gave you those thoughts?" Mumbo shrugs. "That's what I thought."  You fold your arms over one another, walking until you're so close your arms are against him. You slightly move your hand to poke him in the chest.

"Your wings are beautiful, more beautiful than I ever imagined they would be. I can't wait to see them every day of our lives, I can't wait to see you every day either." You smile, noticing the pink flush that appears on Mumbo's face.

"So you don't hate them?" He asks, tone lighter than before. "No, I don't hate them." Mumbo smiles, pulling you in for a hug. "That's good then." He says with a small laugh, holding you tight with the reassurance that you still want him, even with his wings.

#mumbo x reader #mumbo jumbo x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mumbo jumbo #request #moth hybrid!mumbo #butterfly hybrid!mumbo #mumbo #fluff #wings #moth #butterfly #hermitcraft #bug #mcyt x reader #hybrid

[pvtjxker]

Lazy mornings

(pvt. Joker)

This is some kind of Fanfiction I tried to write. The english is shit but I tried. For the story I used @zombeyfreakmode 's headcanons she wrote in one of her posts.

I hope you guys will like it!

(PPN: I changed the story a bit, now it like a Joker x GN!Reader, I thought it would have been more appropriate :3)

Somewhere in Vietnam, next to DaNang, 1970

It was a very cold night, last night, and Joker insisted to stay in the same bed with you to keep you warm.

Being a clingy little piece of shit was typical of him, together with being childish and being a genius of eloquence.

You woke up well rested, for the first time in a long time, and warm.

"Goal achieved", Joker would have said. If he had been awake.

You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the moment.

His hands resting on your belly, his chest laying on your back and his slow and steady breath on you neck.

The first rays of sunshine of the morning were passing through the glimpses of the curtains, showing segments of the closet you slept in.

The smell of dust it was strong, but it made sleep easier.

What a beautiful morning, was it?

You heard a grunt coming from behind you: Joker was waking up.

"Mh...'mornin"..." He said, with a sleepy voice.

"Goodmorning, honey, how did hibernation go?"

"Very funny..."

"It is, for me" you said, as you giggled.

He grabbed your hips and turned you around, allowing him to look at your face, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Pretty..."

And he kissed your nose.

"Pretty and sleepy..."

And he kissed you softly.

You loved that kind of attention.

And he loved to give you that attention.

Then he turned around, and he reached out of the bed, reaching out under the bed next to yours, from which a possum appeared and began to lick his hand.

"Goodrning, Tincan" he said, and patted him on the head.

The possum closed its eyes as he happily recived the pats.

You loved his relationship with all his animals: he treated them like if they were his children.

He had two pets, a possum, whose name was Tincan, and a little green frog named Teacup.

He sit on the bed, grabbed the possum and put it on the bed with you, and he started to cuddle him.

You followed him and sat on the bed too.

"Wait" he said at one point and took your hand, placing it on the head of his possum.

"He loves cuddles on the head" He said, as he smiled.

He had the most beautiful smile in the world, you could have stared at it for hours.

You started to scratch his head a little, and the animal closed its eyes again, starting to stamp the back paws on the mattress.

"Oh, what a spoiled possum you are!" Joker said, with annoyed tone.

You blastes in a laugh.

"Oh, come on, Joker! It's cute!"

"He's not cute, he's a spoiled little simp, that's what he is!"

"Why is he a simp?"

"He never takes head scratches from me!" He turned to Tincan "Is it because it's not me? You little maniac!"

You kept on laughing.

He turned back to you "What's so funny?!" He asked, smiling again.

"Nothing, it's just the way you talk to him."

"He's my boy, alright? He's my son! And I need to correct him when he messes up!"

He turned back to the possum.

"You're my boy, are you?" He kept on patting his head.

"Are you? Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

You couldn't stop giggling, he was just adorable.

He put the possum down, and the pet disappeard under the bed again.

"You could be an amazing father, Joker, for real."

"I know I would, it's because I'm fucking awsome!"

You burst out laughing.

"Why? Am I not awsome?"

You sat on his lap, laying your arms on his shoulders.

"Yes. Yes you are..."

He brought his face close to yours, intending to kiss you, but you cut him off, finishing the sentence.

"...together with being childish and a clingy little fucker."

"Oh! Is that so?"

"Yeah!" You laughed.

"Is that what you think I am?"

"Yes!"

He kissed you.

"You are right."

You bursted out laughing again.

There was a croak from one of the windowsills.

"Oh, Teacup just woke up!" He said, all exited.

You got up, so that he could get out of bed and go saying hi to his frog.

Inside of a big bowl, filled with water and dirt and covered with some sort of cage, there was a cute little green frog, croaking for attention.

"Hello, little one!" he said almost under his breath, placing an index finger on the frog's head and stroking it.

"Slept well, Teacup? Are you hungry?"

He took a flies-filled jar and opened it inside of the cage. Four or five flies got out of the jar.

None of them survived.

"Good girl, Teacup! Eat'em up!"

He closed the jar and came back to bed, he put his back against the wall and made you sit on his lap again, stroking your thighs.

"How about Tincan? Won't you feed him too?"

"Not now, he eats when I eat: he is a mammal, he has a table for eating different from that of Teacup, which is smaller and is an oviviparous amphibian."

Damn he was hot when he explained the things he liked to you.

Sometimes you asked him stupid questions only to get him yo explain that to you, and it was amazing.

You leaned down and kissed him.

What a beautiful morning, was it?

______________________________________________

#full metal jacket #full metal jacket headcanons #full metal jacket preferences #private joker

[vimbry]

a moomin kid oc story I've had for a while, but will never have the stamina to draw or write up, is liljekonvalj waking up one year a short time into hibernation (just like her dad). she has a play about discovering snow for a little while, before running into her older sibling hiljainen, who's always awake in winter, just before they're due to leave on their usual trip.

turns out hiljainen doesn't stay skulking around the valley like people thought they did (and never questioned, because they're a fan of the season, and being comfortable in their own company isn't out of the ordinary for them) - but actually ventures very far out of it most years, by hopping different trains and such. they've never told anyone about it because it's their little secret adventure, and sharing it would spoil that. as would their parents' worry if they ever found out; the moominkids are pretty free range, as you can imagine, but skipping several towns over in the dead of winter is another story. moomin in particular would be beside himself.

so after a little bit of squabble, blackmailing, etc. hiljainen agrees to let lilja come along with them, so long as she's NOT a bother. after a long walk to the nearest station, they sneak aboard a train as hiljainen does each year, and settle down in one of the compartments. a seasoned rider like hiljainen is usually good at making themselves scarce when the ticket inspector rolls around, but this time they end up misjudging it, and get caught red-pawed. of course, hiljainen's also a seasoned liar.

they quickly explain that it's their first time on a train, sir, and we had them with us, honest! but their tickets must have been misplaced somewhere, we're ever so sorry ("sorry, so sorry" echoes lilja, pitifully). "where are your parents, then?" asks the inspector. "they're... not with us, sir" they reply, with a mournful tone. and the inspector's slightly sceptical about this sad orphan act, but doesn't wanna push it, so eventually is like, well. fine. I'll let you off just this once.

the ticket inspector leaves, and their celebrations about getting away with it are short-lived, when they look out across the station they've stopped at from their carriage window - and see snufkin on the other platform, looking right back. but he's not really staring at them, right? he's so far away. he could be looking at something else. right?

both watch in mild horror as their dad breaks out into something more brisk than a casual walk. they're not sure he's running, exactly, but it seems... purposeful. but the train's sounding its whistle now, so he'll never make it in time - and as it soon pulls away again, the kids sink back in their seats in relief. until a few minutes later, when a very familiar coughing begins to echo through the carriage. and the sound of tottering heels soon comes to a stop somewhere in the middle

the inspector's voice is too far to make out, but snufkin's louder, cheerier responses reach their compartment, even through the closed door. "oh, dear. yes, again, I'm afraid. was it you I saw last time, as well? my memory is not what it used to be, you know." their dad's only a middle-aged fellow, but the smoky voice and many layers he dresses in age him a good deal. the inspector must be in a forgiving mood today (just their luck), because they're soon moving up the carriage again. "well," they hear him begin. "this one's occupied; but we're filling up, and I think these two would appreciate your company." there's a knowing light-heartedness in the inspector's tone, the kids notice. they wonder how far snufkinpappa's reputation stretches.

after a few moments pass by both agonisingly slow and far too fast, the door slides open. "is it alright if this gentleman shares a compartment with you two?" the inspector asks. snufkin simply smiles beside him, without recognition. hiljainen and lilja nod numbly, their shock fortunately passing for shyness. the inspector, apparently under the impression kids don't have ears or eyes, or just generally lacking in tact, mumbles something to snufkin about "orphans" and "poor little mites". "is that so," replies snufkin, eyes widening in pity. "well, it's perfectly alright with me, too". they both bid each other goodbye, and snufkin sits in the seat opposite his children.

anyway that's all I got for it!

#see I remember them #ocs #moomin

[myshredda]

I KEEP ON FORGETTING TO GIVE YOU THESE; Supplemental clump songs because I didn’t have enough room last time! (Spoiler alert, they’re all by James Arthur). Duck: “Recovery” (was gonna be for Red, then realized it fits Duck a bit better). Yellow: “Get down” (this was hard ‘cause his character’s so surface level, so this is kinda like his blind faith in the world). Green: “Supposed” (guilt for “failing” his purpose). Finally, “Coming home for Summer” (I think it fits the vibe of your fics<3) -🍓🍷

Oh this is so exciting!!!! Time for lyric analysis I'm putting my old lady glasses on okay here we go!

Recovery is immediately a punch in the gut with the opening lyrics being "I don't want to play this game no more" over and over like OW??? The direct parallel to Duck screaming "I don't want to do this anymore!" in the Healthy song :(((((((((

Get down really is so Yellow, especially that pre-chorus: "I could draw you a picture/I could write all my fears/I could read you a scripture of tears" CRIES thats so him oh god.....

Supposed is so good for Green? Like right from the start? "I should've known better/Than to ever/Look to heaven questioning/Whether I've found it" as a parallel to him venturing up to the attic and looking for answers, even him hearing the bigger Duck say "This is as good as it gets!" and immediately answering with "Can't be! Has to be something else! Doesn't there?" and him asking Lesley if he can stay with her and her immediately answering with "you don't belong up here" like...ow?

I'm like crying and weeping over Coming Home for Summer bc the vibes are so immaculate and it's so in line with what I want my works to reflect and every lyric is so perfect for them that I just want to copy/paste the whole song into this ask but I can't so I'll stick with these bits:

"We shadow-boxed the enemy/Swing until we extradite our fears/They're backed into a corner/Ring the bell, we shed our blood and tears/Like hibernating sun-rays, hoping for the sun/Watching the horizon"

"Oh, we suffered in silence/Through storms and through violence/We've stayed our way/The waves have sub-sided/The clouds have divided/Found a reason to survive/Found the will to stay alive/That will be the last thing that we do/Heading for summer/Back home for summer"

which is like exactly how they live now?? They lived through the teachers and bled and sweat and sobbed and finally made it around to the other side and they can be alive now and they're finally happy oh my GODDDDD its so perfect.

Now! I have a song rec for you! I've been listening to a lot of Lemon Demon lately and I think "Fine" is totally a Yellow song, with his upbeat enthusiasm and his tendency to be in-denial of how dark the world he lives in truly is! These bits are my favorite:

"Everything works out nice in the end/The sun will marry the moon/It'll be fine/Why don't we sit back mellow again/And have a nice afternoon?/It'll be fine"

"I know/That in a snap, all the birds will sing, I know/I know/I'm full of crap, but still"

#amazing songs as always #strawberry wine anon #my askbox

[sarriane]

2022 Year of Fic in Review Boogaloo

sariane on ao3

Total number of completed stories: 4 Total word count: 42,185 Fandoms: dr who, our flag means death

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted?: i am honestly surprised i wrote anything at all, this year has suuuucked!

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?: our flag means death was a surprise! i even saw the trailer in january and thought it looked very dumb (the trailer was... not great). the last thing i expected was that it would have a fandom, much less that i would be into it.

What's your favorite story of the year?: space growlr, hands down. i literally had so much fun with it, mixing goofiness with romance and writing something for me.

Did you take any writing risks this year?: i was gonna say no, but i did technically write furry fanfic, and that's a whole new genre for me. i doubt i did it any true justice.

Do you have any fanfic goals for the New Year?: keep survivin', meet zine deadlines, work on your plotting and pacing skills, & spice up the prose a little babes.

My best story of the year: i'm going to say space growlr again, bc it may be the only one i like.

My most popular story of the year: stay the course, which i feel caught the last wave of ofmd fandom before it went into hibernation. i am slow! (and honestly, dw fanfic world is sooo dead right now, and i am writing rarepairs. there's no competition.)

Story that was most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: again, space growlr!!! because no one appreciates danvanista like the ship deserves!!!! hmph!!

Most fun to write: oh my god are all of these answers going to be 'the silly furry rarepair fanfiction that three people read' oh no

Single sexiest (or cutest) moment: somehow i didn't post a real smutfic this year, so i'm gonna go with fourteen/simm punching each other silly and then having a dumb makeout session fight to see who wins. they're so dumb and i missed them.

Hardest to write: stupid! pirate! story!!! i don't even know WHAT that story is. it needs like... probably half of it cut out and the last chapter rewritten. idk man i don't get paid for this.

Biggest disappointment: me ngl i was hoping that posting updates on the pirate fic week-by-week would somehow encourage people to comment or talk to me about the fic, and that i'd make friends, but i only had one or two people follow it as a WIP! i'm never doing anything for ~the engagement~ ever again haha.

Biggest surprise: that i somehow ended up writing rassilon/omega smut as a joke!! it took me a half hour and was easier than anything! i will do absolutely anything for the bit, huh.

Favorite lines: because i only posted 4 fics this year, i'm just gonna drop a line from each.

space growlr:

Dan: SOS Karvanista: [AJE928384AJ392DJ9402.jpg] Dan: It means Save Our Souls, not send SHIRTLESS PICS!!

stay the course:

Stede can taste it on his tongue. He can hear it beating in his chest. It sounds like love, and it looks like Ed curled up on the sofa with a glass of brandy and his deep, heavy eyes drawing him in. It’s moonlight and fleeting touches, dodgy treasure maps and scary stories. It’s a life, and an adventure, and it’s not rooted in anything but the promise of each other. “I won’t say that I love you, because I haven’t proved it yet,” Stede says. “But I think I’m figuring out what that means, to love someone. And I want a second chance to prove how I feel.”

the black scrolls of rassilon:

i can't lmao this is too cracky to choose from

which to bury, us or the hatchet?:

He fills himself in through the gaps in the Master’s memories and takes them all with the kiss. The Master dies and dies and he lives on, the Master is a gaping wound and he is a yellow bruise, the Master accepts and he grieves. The Doctor takes it all.

#i write fanfiction

[vinc3nnt]

𝐀 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Summary: Xiao's dream.

this ones kinda boring imo so get ready for the wack writing

xiao awoke on a peaceful shore, it was as if he's been drifting off into the ocean for far too long. here he is now, nowhere. xiao felt incredibly lazy.. or just too tired to wander elsewhere than this shore.

who would even want to leave such a peaceful sight? this isn't liyue for granted, he'll return back eventually, no? well.. he ended up staying there for the sunset, it was worth it.. though, it did remind him of a distant memory, it continues to shimmer like gold through his life, even though he's tried forgetting.

"hey,, you. um.. are you okay?" a familiar voice rings throughout xiao's ears. he knows this voice extremely well, though its been a long time by not seeing that specific person.

xiao turns around to meet a familiar face, one's he's missed. it was another version of you. the clothes were foreign, like what foreigners from fontaine who are usually said to wear. how fancy..

"sir.. I've noticed you've been sitting there for a while, I was wondering if you were doing alright?" the person asked, sitting down next to xiao.

xiao just looked away, not responding at all. "uh.. I'm y/n, how about you?" they replied, trying to get xiao's attention. that name's done the job of catching his attention. "y/n?" xiao felt as if he wanted to hug you... but what if it was just someone with the same appearance, name and anything else? it sounds crazy.. though its been past decades, you can't really look this young...

"I'm xiao." xiao bluntly responded, trying his best to bottle up his current feelings towards seeing 'you' once again. it hurts, though it also creates a weird feeling inside him. did you really leave him for all those years just to be here?.. No, you swore to come back. and I wouldn't ruin your fun.. perhaps you just hadn't had the time to visit by.

"that name sounds familiar." they giggled, combing their hair. "say, have we met before? you look like you know me too!" they exclaimed. "I don't believe we have.." xiao lied through his teeth, you barely even remembered him. will you even accept him back into your arms? "hm.. if you say so." they pouted, writing using their finger through the sand.

"oh, are you a vision bearer?" y/n pointed to xiao's wrist, where his vision stays. "I am." xiao bluntly responded. "how cool! can you do anemo tricks?" y/n said, doing gestures of floating tricks. "anemo tricks?" xiao asked, not knowing what it is. "anemo tricks are like making things float or something, controlling something into the wind and other stuff! can you do that?" y/n asked, as xiao tried to concentrate his energy to a tiny hole that sucks in items, soon enough the sand was able to be caught into it, making y/n amazed.

"how cool!" y/n said, clapping their hands. xiao slightly smiled at your behavior, he felt as if you two just met again. then y/n were just playing with the sand in the anemo stormeye, running out of potential conversation topics.

"xiao, can I tell you something?" y/n smiled, cuddling their knees. "go on." xiao said, relaxing himself into the sand. "I was put into a cryogenic sleep once! they told me it lasted decades!" y/n rambled about a cryogenic sleep, "what is this 'cryogenic sleep', you're talking about.." xiao asked, feeling a tad bit curious.

"cryogenic sleep is sleeping in a cold place.. I think its similar to hibernation, y'know, the thing that animals do when they're cold n stuff. cryogenic sleep is like freezing food, or.. I lost examples. It's like preserving yourself for the next time!" they continued to explain, soon enough you felt as if you've said too much. "ah.. sorry. Its fun talking about things I've known.. and plus, cryogenic sleep sounds suuuuper cool!"

"...I see. who put you in that cryogenic sleep?" xiao asked, willing to take down anyone that you've mentioned. "uh.. what was their names? hmm.. I don't remember!" y/n thought from the top of their head. "alright then.." xiao felt a need to go already, it was too early for that..

xiao felt as if the world was spinning, his head felt pain never once felt, as if it was asking it to leave. the vision of your face became blurry for xiao. "seems like our time's up.." they muttered, feeling saddened by xiao's departure.

"maybe we could see each other next time, no?" they smiled, as xiao now awoke in a cold sweat, he's just fallen asleep onto the table he were eating almond tofu on. that dream just gave him more questions than answers itself, quite confusing, though you were still alive, were you?..

never had he once wanted to go back to a dream.

#xiao genshin x reader #xiao #genshin #xiao fluff #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #xiao genshin impact

[lazarettta]

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

~~

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

~~

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #resident evil #resident evil village #lady alcina #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #dis tew much #assassins creed odyssey #lady dimitrescu #i'm a big simp for these bishes

[logan-please-smile-speaks]

[Long, Tw food (in depth descriptions), brief references to unnamed heavenly beings of no specified religion, brief reference to hell. Not really any angst. Just good Dadza.]

[Hurt/comfort my beloved]

Me: i can't write

Also me: writes an entire fic by accident while telling my friend about an idea I had

(I'm gonna need this ask back at some point so don't keep it too long, okay? But make sure to take care of yourself (unlike Techno sksksks))

(How many words is this) (Cenn I've been writing this for like 3-4 hours. I've been hyperfixating on this)

-@2ble

I had this really cute idea where Techno gets sick after doomsday and Dadza takes care of him (for an animatic, or? How should i draw techno?)

Phil's Dadza side kicks in. He gently pushes Techno, who is in full garb back into bed. "Techno, you're sick. You can't go."

"But I haven't streamed in 2 weeks!"

"Rest."

Techno turns on his side in bed. Dadza gently pulls the blankets up and tucks them around Techno. Techno begins to cough, and the coughs rack his body. Dadza's expression is soft and concerned. He rubs his hand on Techno's back until he stops coughing. Techno closes his eyes. He's exhausted.

Dadza takes Techno's crown and places it on the bedside table.

He observes his ill friend. Techno is nothing like what he was up until Doomsday. He seemed--weak. Vulnerable. Sick.

"Have you had anything to eat, Techno?"

Techno doesn't open his eyes. He shakes his head. "I ran out of food a few days ago. I meant to get more but..." Techno doesn't want to admit that he couldn't get downstairs. He doesn't want to admit to weakness, to vulnerability. But everytime he thought of searching through chests, of trading with the villagers, they just seemed so far away.

Phil noticed a tear leaking out from Techno's eyelid. If he brushed it away, Techno would feel worse about his state because it would mean he was in fact vulnerable.

"I'll make you some stew."

Phil goes downstairs and tends to the fireplace. The fire seemed to have gone out sometime between now and the last time Phil checked on Techno.

How long has the house been this cold?

Phil builds up the fire and puts a cauldron over it. He makes mushroom stew because he doesn't know if techno can stomach rabbit stew.

When it's ready, he ladels it into a bowl and climbs the ladder.

Hanging off the ladder by one hand, he calls out. "Techno, stew's ready."

Techno's eyes flutter open. He sees his friend holding out a bowl of food and his eyes widen.

Phil notices that Techno is sweating and the blanket strewn to the side, only covering his feet.

"Are you too hot mate?" he asks.

Techno is broiling but he can't summon the strength to take off his outer clothes. His body refuses.

He's more focused on food. He's starving, and his body uses up what little resources it has left to sweat.

Phil walks over and puts the stew on the table. The heavenly aroma fills the room.

"Let's get this coat off of you." Phil reaches around Techno and unclasps the chain on his neck. He gently pulls the coat off of Techno's arm but he's still laying on it.

"Techno," Phil says.

"Whaaat," Techno drawls.

"You got to let me get this coat off ya mate."

Techno lets out a deep groan, then turns over on his stomach so his other arm is towards Phil.

Phil reaches under techno and grasps the coat. He pulls it out from under Techno and off his arm. The sleeve turns inside out. Phil fixes the sleeve and hangs up the coat.

Techno's shirt is drenched in sweat. He rolls over and starts fidddling with the button closest to his throat, looking up at Phil.

"Here, I'll get that for you." Phil undoes the button. He can't imagine how tired techno must've been after Doomsday, that he just collapsed in bed fully clothed, not even bothering to loosen them.

At least he took off his armor. Sh-t's heavy, he thinks. Phil ignores the fact that after the adrenaline and excitement wore off, the sore and tired Technoblade probably couldn't move with it on.

Phil pulls the blanket off the bed entirely, folds it, and places it on the table next to the stew. He pulls off Techno's shoes and socks and puts them near his coat.

They were also drenched with sweat, not to mention the smell--but it doesn't bother Phil all that much. He's smelled worse. He's frowns at the imprints on Techno's legs from the socks.

Phil loosens the rest of Techno's clothes. Techno seemed to were his tightest, least comfortable, most regal outfit to Doomsday.

Lucky for them both most of that was just accesories and pins, and Phil could easily remove those.

While Phil was doing this, Techno had been lying on his back, eyes closed. Though Techno tended to be stone-faced, Phil noticed the relief on Techno's face.

"How you feelin', Techno?"

"Philzaaa,"

"Yeah?"

Techno opens his eyes halfway, just enough to see Philza and the bottom of the bed.

"Do you have water?"

Phil procures a water bucket from his bag. "Thirsty mate?"

Techno looks at the water bucket and a small smile creeps over his face.

Phil smiles at his friend. He moves to the head of the bed and looped his arm and tattered wing around Techno and sits him up.

He holds the bucket up to Techno's mouth and tips it to his lips. Techno sips gratefully as the cool liquid pours over his hot, dry mouth and down his throat, cooling him from the inside.

"You've lost quite a bit of fluid, mate."

Techno lets some of the cold water slip out the sides of his mouth and drip down his face. His skin is boiling. The water dropelts running down his skin feel like heavenly beings allowing drops of mercy to fall upon him in the pit of hell.

Techno pulls back briefly to swallow and catch his breath and Phil rights the bucket. Techno leans in again for more water.

After drinking his fill, Techno leans back and wipes his mouth with his arm.

"All done, Techno?"

Techno swings his arms up knocks the bucket out of Phil's hand, dumping it on his head. The gush of water cools Techno, drenches the bed, and spills all over the room. Phil can't help but laugh. He picks up the bucket and scoops up the water source. He puts the bucket back in his bag.

"Had enough of the water?"

"Philza--I gotta be honest with you, Philza I haven't felt this good in weeks."

Phil laughs again even louder. The two friends are now in a good mood.

"Well now your stew is probably cold too." Phil tastes it. "Actually it's a bit warm still. Not too hot, either."

Techno scoots towards the wall and leans on it. He reaches for the bowl.

"Oh, no you don't."

"Phil, I'm a grown man-pig. I can hold a bowl."

"Maybe on a good day, Techno, but three minutes ago you couldn't sit up by yourself. No offense mate, but I don't think your arms have enough stamina right now. Now come on and eat."

Phil lifts the bowl to Techno's lips and lets him sip at his own pace. He pulls it back.

"How does it taste?"

"Pretty good but could maybe use a little salt."

"Eh, you probably need electrolytes as well after sweating through your clothes and drinking all that water."

Phil put the bowl on the downstairs counter.

Phil found salt in the downstairs chest and stirred it into the cauldron.

He heard the bowl fall to the floor behind him. It fell facedown and spilt on the floor.

Phil swore quietly.

He got a new bowl and more stew from the cauldron.

"How is it?" Techno inquired.

"Try for yourself," Phil said. He smiled as he held the bowl to Techno.

Techno looked at the bowl, then up at Phil. He took a sip.

Techno pulled back and looked at the bowl.

Phil thought he may have tainted the stew somehow. "Is it bad?" he started to say.

But he didn't quite get out anything after "Is" because Techno cut him off.

"It's delicious." Techno looked up at his friend. "Philza Minecraft, you should be a chef. This is the most wonderful thing I've ever tasted."

Phil chuckled. "All I did was add salt, what ya mean?"

"Phil, you have to sell this stew to the rest of the SMP. We could get rich!"

"Techno, I think the sickness may have gotten to your head a bit."

"Phil, I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life. We could be the the most powerful people on the server!"

"We already are. We just blew up a country. Down to bedrock."

"But we could get even more rich and powerful!"

"Well I'll be happy to listen after you eat. And rest. And bathe."

"I don't need to bathe."

"You're not getting out of it. You reek, mate."

"You can't judge me by the smell!"

"I'm not worried about the smell so much as what the smell tells me about your body. I don't know when the last time you washed was but it was definitely before Doomsday and I can't have you laying in your own sweat and filth for much longer. It's sh-t for your health, Techno."

"Philza--"

"Please just eat, Techno."

Techno leaned his head forward slightly and Phil pressed the bowl to Techno's lips.

Techno closed his eyes and savored the flavors. They were so pleasant, so soothing, so comforting. They reminded him of a time when he was safe and there was no betrayal. No war. No need for violence and bloodshed and destruction.

Phil, being a good Dadza friend, made sure that Techno ate an entire bowl. He brought Techno another bowl upon his request, of which he ate half, then left the other half bowl on the table in case Techno got hungry later.

After changing Techno's bed to clean, dry sheets and tucking his friend back into bed, he went downstairs to clean up the spill. He told Techno he would be back at sunrise to check on him. Though he might come earlier just in case. Sunrise was just the latest. Phil had decided that since Techno had gotten through the brunt of his hibernation and was now waking up sick, he should check on him at least twice a day.

Phil scrubbed the dried stew off the floor. He wondered what could've made Techno love it so much. Mere salt couldn't have made it so delicious, could it?

Phil finished cleaning the floor and the bowl and put everything away. As he was about to leave, he stopped. Eyes locked on the cauldron. There was something about it.

I can't leave that there, he reasoned. It will go to waste. If Techno like it, I can't let it waste or burn. I should freeze it outside.

Phil took out a bowl and knelt in front of the fire place. He scoop up big, full ladels into his bowl. Could it be that the soup was really that much better with something as basic as salt?

Phil dipped his finger in the bowl and sucked the stew off of it. He was instantly transported to his childhood. His mind played out feelings of safety, of healing, of comfort, of rest.

He heard his family laughing, remembered learning how to fly, the first time he soared high, feeling the wind beneath his wings. He remembered when Wilbur was born, holding the tiny baby in his arms, filled with love. "I'll always protect you. I'll always be there for you." When he met Techno, when he built the bee farm, and so on.

Phil was moved to tears. He felt loved. He felt like someone loved him no matter his flaws, his mistakes. Phil cried.

It was not out of pain but rather emotion. He wiped away his tears and drank the rest of the stew in his bowl, but it only caused more tears to stream down his face.

Techno was right.

Outside, watching through the window was the one who made the soup what it was. It wasn't Phil's salt.

He stood on his hind legs, paws pressed against the wall of the house.

He had been listening to the two friends talk, had been watching protectively as the wind ruffled his thick white fur.

He was Technoblade's guardian.

Soon he would be called Steve.

2ble this is literally amazing hello????

#ask #anon #under the 2ble #food mention #food tw #tw sickness #crying mention #technoblade #philza #philza minecraft #long post #steve the polar bear #fave tag

[hailbop1701]

Chapter Four: Damn Kids...

Chapter four is here guys! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story because I've been having a lot of fun writing it! I want to say thank you again to @dw-writes for being an amazing beta! You are freakin' awesome and I love you.

-H❤🖖

Hollow Castle Masterlist

The trek to medical was a long one. They were no longer in easy territory; Reaper couldn’t help but compare it to one of those old games he played as a kid. Shaking his head, John led the team through the halls at a snail’s pace. The corridors went from decorated and vibrant to the stark clean white of a medical facility.

‘Well, I suppose they were clean at one point in time,’ John thought with a tired sigh.

Chekov, who had managed to keep up with John’s fast pace, looked up from his PADD. The kid blanched at what was in front of them. Wrinkling his nose, John and his finer sense of smell could definitely confirm that the walls were covered in blood and feces. Not to mention the bits and pieces of people that had been discarded and left behind to rot.

Chekov swallowed thickly, looking green around the gills. John was impressed; the first time he had ever seen anything like this he threw up. Twice. Though that was two lifetimes ago.

Pausing, John nudged Chekov gently. “Breathe through your mouth,” he advised and the boy did just that. Tilting his head to the side, John looked over his shoulder to check on the others,

“Jesus,” Lawrence muttered, covering his nose and mouth with a gloved hand.

Bitar sidled up next to him, eyeing the mess ahead of them with a slight grimace on her face. “I think God left this place a long time ago, Gabe,” she whispered with a shake of her head.

“Damn,” Jim whispered from John’s left, his eyes wide, his face growing pale. Pressing his lips together, Jim cleared his throat. “We, uh, getting closer to the signal, Pavel?” he asked quietly.

The young Russian nodded, gripping the PADD tightly in his hands.

John moved forward, making sure to keep only a couple of feet ahead of the group, far enough to take the brunt of an oncoming attack, and close enough to run back if he really needed to. He gave each room they came across a quick check. Poking his head into what looked to be an empty exam room, John stopped short. Frowning he stepped further into the room with his weapon raised.

“Bones?”

John grunted, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the trail of blood dripping down from a ventilation shaft. He twitched ever so slightly as Jim moved into the room cautiously. “What do you got?” he asked quietly.

Reaper moved around the exam table. Kneeling down, he pulled a knife from his boot.

A gagging noise erupted from behind him. “What the hell - what is that?” Jim groaned, turning away from the bloody mess on the floor.

John took the knife and moved around the bits of what used to be the remains of a human torso. Open and practically cleaned out, upon closer inspection, John noticed something odd. Leaning closer, he saw bloody footprints leading from the body and up the wall where they disappeared into the vent. They were small, almost childlike. His stomach dropped, ‘oh I’m not liking this at all.’ he thought, grinding his teeth. Standing abruptly, John grabbed Kirk’s arm and led him out of the room,

“Human torso. Fresh, we need to go,” He growled out, sending Kirk stumbling forward into a bewildered away team. His inner “Red Alert” system had been going off throughout this entire disaster, and it had just gotten louder. He was kicking himself. He’d figured that his raised hackles were due to the situation but no. That wasn’t it at all. They were being watched, hunted. Cursing under his breath, John looked over at Jim, who had a concerned and questioning gaze. Pressing his lips into a line, John urged everyone onward. “We’re being watched,” he whispered to Beckworth and Kirk. Both men tensed at his words. “We need to keep moving.” he barked, raising his rifle again.

They moved quickly and quietly down the corridor leaving bloody boot prints in their wake.

Three rights and a left turn later, John skidded to a stop. Low growls and the smell of death made him freeze at the corner. Holding up a fist letting the others know to stop, John, without saying a word, looked back and tapped his ear, then pointed to the corridor they needed to go down.

Beckworth nodded then gave a silent order to his two subordinates, “Cover the rear.”

Peering around the corner, John spotted half a dozen infected. They were in a sleeping state, standing on their feet like horses, hibernating until a fresh meal caught their attention. Frowning, John bit the inside of his cheek. His mind churned, trying to come up with the best way to deal with the block in their path without the others coming to harm or alerting every demon and its mother to their location.

Reaper let out a frustrated huff. He glanced over his shoulder at Jim and scowled, showing the captain his displeasure.

Kirk grimaced and mouthed, “That bad?”

John looked back at the milling group of demons, then back at Jim. The look he gave his friend was clear: “I can do it but it’s gonna cause problems.”

He beckoned Beckworth over and let the security officer take a peek at what was around the corner. Henry looked at John with almost startled eyes. “And you’ve dealt with these before?” he asked, voice barely above a hissed whisper.

John shrugged. “Sort of. These are a new breed and made up of several different species. Some will be more difficult than others.” His murmured explanation made both Beckworth and Kirk wince. Reaper chewed on the inside of his cheek again, his mind made up.

Beckworth looked at him with a glint in his eyes. “You have a plan?” he asked. John shrugged, “I figured I’d do what Jim does. Wing it and hope it works. Hunker down in there,” he whispered, jerking his head in the direction of a door closest to them in the crowded hall.

Jim gave him a teasing glare before his face became serious. “You’re not going to seriously fight those things on your own, are you?” the captain hissed and Reaper gave Kirk a raised eyebrow that clearly said, “Yes and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Jim set his jaw and his mind raced as he tried to think of other options but there weren’t any. Cursing, Kirk looked down the corridor again and then at John. “Damnit fine. Don’t die or I’m gonna be pissed,” he growled while pointing an accusing finger at his friend.

Reaper gave a short nod. He looked over at the rest of the group who had been silent but were aware of the new plan. Taking a deep breath, John let Jim settle behind him, ready to lead the group into the cover of what looked to be a large supply room.

Taking a deep breath, John pulled a grenade from his belt. Pressing down on the button, he heard a faint beep and hum. Waiting for a breath, he tossed the grenade into the center of the small horde. Holding Jim back, John ducked his head just as the grenade went off. The ‘boom’ rang in his ears as it shook the walls around them.

“Move!” he shouted as he rounded the corner with his rifle raised. The demons, or what was left of them screamed and howled at John with rage. Without missing a beat he fired. The lower demons fell in bursts. The two knights roared and raced forward, ready to tear Reaper apart. He was ready for them.

Fixing his stance, John took a deep breath. His first thought was, ‘Fuck this is gonna hurt,’ his second was, ‘God I hope these guys were human.’

No such luck.

One barreled right into him like a linebacker. John’s breath wheezed out of him like air from a balloon. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the monster who sent him flying was green. Orion.

‘Fucking fantastic.’

Reaper collided with the supply room door with a painful bang, his beloved rifle sent flying. Pushing the pain away, John, in one motion, shot to his feet and pulled his handgun from its holster. Firing three shots, he managed to make the turned Orion stumble back in surprise. This gave him time to clock the other knight - who was currently trying to pull a pipe from the bloodied corridor wall - and decide his best course of action.

The Orion roared at him, sending spit flying in all directions. He was pissed. Rolling his eyes, John pivoted and kicked out. His boot made contact with the Hell Knight’s knee, causing the monster to fall to the ground. In one swift movement, John grabbed the creature by the neck and gave a firm twist. There was a sickening crack and the demon fell; its head was no longer connected to its spine. But, being as paranoid as he was, Reaper expertly reloaded his handgun and put two in the demon below him. One in the head, and one in the heart. The action was illogical as Spock would point out, but it made him feel better.

He didn’t relax though; the fight was far from over. John turned and raised his arm just as the second Hell Knight brought down a large water pipe Yelling out in pain, John felt his arm break. Though, he was just thankful it wasn’t his head that broke instead. Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Looking closely at the Hell Knight, John knew this fight was going to be harder. This one had intelligence.

“Ah fuck me!” he growled upon seeing the “Section 31” badge stuck to the monster’s rotting flesh.

John gritted his teeth as he pushed back with force. The demon stumbled back and raised his weapon again. Rolling out of the way, John tucked his injured arm against his chest, he could already feel the bone knit itself back together. It was always an unusual sensation, as if his whole arm had gone to sleep but without it going numb. If fucking hurt like a bitch.

Panting, John glared at the demon before him. “Come on asshole, let’s get this over with,” he snarled, his hand slowly inching toward his belt. The ex-agent roared, raising his pipe again, then swung hard aiming for John’s legs.

Yelping, Reaper dove out of the way of the oncoming blow. He landed gracelessly on his back. Quickly, he twisted to his side, narrowly missing a fatal blow from Hell Knight above him. Startled muffled screams and a boom made Reaper momentarily freeze.

“BONES!” Jim Kirk’s scream made time come to a standstill.

Jumping to his feet, John barreled into the demon, sending them both crashing into the corridor wall. Pulling another SD grenade from his belt, John quickly pressed down on the button and shoved it into the demon’s rotting chest. Pushing away, John dove for the supply room door, where his crew was in danger.

A deafening boom and a burning heat licked his back, but he didn’t even feel the burn or the blood that coated him. He needed to get to them before the worst could happen.

----------oOo----------

Jim barreled into the dark supply room with Chekov right on his ass. Beckworth, Bitar, and Lawrence practically shoved them forward before sealing the door behind them. Jim squinted into the darkness, his antique gun raised only halfway.

“Nothing should get through that door,” Bitar said with a relieved sigh.

A loud bang echoed through the room as something big hit the door they had just come through, followed by a slew of muffled cursing. Chekov let out a soft chuckle and Jim had to smile a little.

“No matter what, it’s the same ol’ Bones,” he sighed with a shake of his head.

“Gabe, check the room. Lila, check for supplies,” Beckworth ordered and the two redshirts immediately moved out.

Jim raised his gun the rest of the way and followed the young security Ensign further into the room. This caused Beckworth to sigh in exasperation, no matter what he did the captain will always be beside his men. Not behind.

“I got the right. Gabe, you go left,” Kirk whispered.

The young man nodded, and swallowed hard, unable to speak. He was so damn scared. Taking a deep steadying breath, Gabriel Lawrence moved into the dark.

He wouldn’t say that he was the best in security. His mother was a high-ranking security officer back in her day, and she had high expectations for him. She was older when he was born. Her end goal wasn’t to raise children, she simply wanted to continue on with a big legacy. And Gabe refused to let his mother down. So, he went to the academy and entered the security track. if Gabe were to really choose what to do with his life, he would have been a chef. He loved to cook, he loved to make people happy with his cooking. He wanted to drop out and tell his mother what he really wanted to do, who he wanted to be; but they had gotten word that he was assigned to the Enterprise and she was so proud.

The Fleet’s flagship.

He didn’t have the heart or the courage to turn it down. So, he went. And there he was, walking through a dark supply room on a taken-over starbase with monsters from Hell. “This is just great Gabe, wonderful life choices,” he muttered to himself. A clang and shuffle made him stop short in his tracks.

Turning, he strained his ears, “Hello?” he called out, bending at the waist he kept his phaser up. He peeked and peered through the crowded shelves of the supply room only to see nothing at all. Another clamor made him stop and quickly twist around; shadows danced around him, skittering in and out between the shelves.

Cautiously moving forward, Gabe called out one more time, “Hello, is anyone there?” the sound of crying reached his ears. ‘Sounds like a kid,’ he thought as he rushed forward.

Sitting there in a small pool of light was a small child curled in on themself, shaking like a leaf, facing a blood-stained wall.

Moving closer, Gabe reached out a gentle hand. “Hey kiddo it’s okay you’re going to be-” he choked on his words as the little boy turned around.

Lawrence has never seen anything like that before. Yelping, he scrambled back, falling onto his ass. The little boy in front of him looked dead: skin gray and rotting; his once brown eyes dull and oozing dark blood. The boy gave a raspy giggle and a leery bloody smile. It all made the hairs on Gabe’s body stand on end. He raised his phaser at the boy with shaking hands. But the dead child in front of him wasn’t what made his blood freeze.

It was the sound of low growls and snickering coming from behind him. Slowly turning around, he saw them all. Small, hunched, bloody, and ready for a fresh meal. Gabe knew right at that moment that he was never going to make it off Genesis. ‘Hope I made you proud momma,’

Later when it was all said and done Jim Kirk stopped to talk to Admiral Lawrence, she responded to his question, “Were you proud?”

Her answer was and would always be, “I was proud of him no matter what he did. That boy was more than just a legacy, he was my whole world. And I regret every day that I didn’t tell him that enough.”

Jim refused to tell her how he died. How much he screamed, and how afraid he was. All Kirk would say was that, “Gabe was an amazing security officer, and that he saved them all from dying the same way he did.”

Kirk would sometimes flashback to that moment. He would remember Gabe's screams of pain and terror but before he could run to help him, a blast knocked him off his feet. Phaser overload.

“BONES!”

Tags:

Everything: @thottiewithashotgun, @lauraaan182, @writerdee1701, @stileslover13-blog, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908

Hollow Castle: @chook007, @lauranthalasah

#star trek aos #doom 2005 #doom!trek #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #john grimm is leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy is john grimm #john grimm #john reaper grimm #james t kirk #jim kirk #pavel chekov #redshirts #reaper!bones #hailey the queen of typos #hollow castle #The Four Horsmen Series #a moment of silence #for the fallen