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#until i come back with a proper fanfic
Y’know that one scene in A Servant of Two Masters where Merlin tells Leon he’s off to kill the king and Leon just laughs
What if Merlin realises how much power that actually has and just starts telling Leon the truth instead of coming up with excuses
Like
Leon: Hey Merlin, where are you off to?
Merlin: Just going to fight a gryphon!
Leon: ha! Have fun!
Or
Leon: Merlin, why do you have highly illegal poison?
Merlin: it’s only poison mixed with alcohol, otherwise it’s just great sidhe repellent!
Leon, chuckling fondly: Alright, as you were then.
Or
Leon: Merlin! Where were you?
Merlin: nowhere interesting, just practicing sorcery.
And Leon believes he’s just keeping the gag going every time.
Which also makes the poetry scene so much better because Leon is used to Merlin being funny, never giving proper excuses and joking about high treason crimes.
So when Merlin is so flustered that he blurts out poetry, the only possible explanation can be that something Merthur is happening and Leon wants no part in it.
It also got me thinking about post Camlan when Merlin and Arthur get back to Camelot (I’m in denial, shut up) when Leon finds out Merlin has magic.
He waits at the gates for Merlin with his arms folded looking like a disappointed mother, then Merlin stops and realises every one of his “excuses” came back to bite him in the arse.
Until Leon has to explain to Arthur that he’s known Merlin is a sorcerer for a while now, but always thought it was a joke because “it’s Merlin”
Merlin: in my defence, I never lied.
Leon: you confessed to multiple crimes!
Merlin: you let me get away with them!
Arthur: huh?
Leon: Sire, I can explain.
Merlin: can you?
Leon: can you?!
I’m tempted to turn this into a fanfic if anyone would want to read it
It’s out now on Ao3 - The One Where Leon Knowingly and Unknowingly Becomes an Accomplice to Treason
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lizzyk137 · 3 months
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Picture Perfect- A Sepencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)
Summary: After months of not hearing from Spencer you move on, breaking both of your hearts. What he wasn't expecting was a frantic call from you one night. Warnings: Fluff, slight panic.
Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!
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"Spence, please tell me you're going home after this." JJ said, eyes squinted as she watched him fiddle with stuff on his desk.
He cleared his throat and nodded before answering. "I will. I just want to make sure everything is ready for when I come back into work tomorrow."
"Are you thinking it's going to be a long night?" Morgan interjected jokingly.
Spencer just rolled his eyes and went back to making sure everything was in its proper spot.
Rossi came down the stairs and headed towards the small gathering that as forming around Spencer. His brows raised at Spencer dawdling. "Still avoiding things?"
"No, I'm just straightening up before leaving for the day."
"Reid, we're profilers, we know you're avoiding going home." Rossi smirked. "Go home, she's waiting for you."
"Fine, I will." Spencer collected his belongings and headed to the elevators knowing his team was watching him go. He headed towards the bus stop after being cleared to leave, his thoughts going a mile a minute.
He had been away for seven months working at the Las Vegas's FBU headquarters, helping train and work on cases. It at first started off as a case the whole team was invited in but as time went on trying to catch a team of killers, Spencer enjoyed being near his mom and decided to take on mentoring for a few months. He thought it was a smart move, but he never took into account of one thing. You.
He left one day then never came back. That was how you saw it. He didn't answer his phone for three weeks, his head focused solely on catching the monsters behind all the killings. All you had gotten back as a reply from the many calls and texts was a few sentences telling you that he would be staying there for a few months and that he was okay. At first you were okay with the decision, knowing what he was doing was for the good of the city and that what he was teaching was saving lives. But the texts and calls started to slow down and eventually you would count yourself lucky if he answered you back a week later.
Spencer was so busy helping on cases that he would forget to text you back, but he thought you understood. It wasn't until he came home to find the shared apartment empty of your belongings. At first, he was frantic, searching for you everywhere, but that turned to desperation and then quickly turned to a broken heart. You wouldn't reply back to any of his calls or texts, and he tried to get Penelope to find you, which he gave him a hard no a stern glare before turning back to her computers.
He didn't understand what he did wrong until the team pulled him to the side and explained it.
You were hurt by him. The replies became nonexistent, and you gave up trying to make things work.
He was a fool. A stupid fool.
He was almost home when his phone rang from an unknown caller. He ignored it and continued walking from the bus stop to his apartment when the phone rang again from the same number. Sighing, he answered and put it to his ear. "Hello?" The voice that answered made his feet stop.
"Spence?" You called out after a few moments of silence, your voice breathy.
He cleared his throat. "Y/N?"
"Spence... I need help... Please come..." He heard a loud crash, his heart stopping.
"Y/N, where are you? I'm on the way." His feet had already started racing to his parked car.
You gasped out the address, as he started the car racing to you. He made it to the apartment within a few minutes, drawing his gun as he made it up the stairs to the apartment. He heard another crash from inside, and before he could think, his foot was kicking in the door, and he was clearing the room. He saw you on the floor, your back to him as he heard you cry out in pain.
He was by your side in a second as he turned you slowly over, your large belly coming into frame. His eyes went wide as you looked at him, tears in your eyes as you clutched his arm.
"What's going on?" His eyes searching your face for answers.
"Hospital. I need go." You said through gritted teeth as your grip tightened on his arms.
Spencer quickly shook his head, and then cleared his throat. He helped you up onto your feet, grabbing the purse and diaper bag by the door that you directed him to get. He quickly locked up to find you trying to make your way down the stairs, if he wasn't in such a shock, he would laugh at you as you waddled around.
You grabbed the railing and cried out. He was by your side in a second, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out the door.
"Any news?" Hotch asked, as he sat down next to Spencer in the hospital's waiting room.
"No, they're running some tests, so I stepped out." Spencer was crouched down, his elbows on his knees his eyes focused on his clasped hands and the ground.
He had been struggling the past three hours to come up with answers that were already answered. The baby was his and you tried so hard to tell him but when he stopped replying you left to start the next step in your life alone.
Everyone knew but him. They had visited you daily to make sure you were okay, and they became your family, the only thing that was missing was Spencer. You knew you needed him; you were still in love with him, but he hurt you and you needed more than just an apology.
"Has it happened?!" He heard Penelope's voice scream as he looked up to see a giant pile of balloons headed his way.
"Not yet they're running some tests."
"Oh good! I can't miss out on our baby's arrival."
Another hour went by, and Reid was called to go into one of the hospital rooms. He lingered by the door for a second before pushing the door in to find you lying in bed, a beautiful sweaty mess as you reached out to him. His hand quickly found yours and he brought it to his lips. "How are you feeling?
"I'm feeling better after taking the epidural." A minute went by before you continued, your voice a whisper. "I'm still mad at you. You left for so long and no word. But I can't do this without you."
Spencer brought your hand to his cheek. "I know baby. I'm never leaving you again. I've been a wreck without you. You and our baby are my first priority."
You just nodded. "We have a lot to discuss later but I'm getting sleepy."
"Get some rest, my love."
Seven hours and two broken fingers later, Spencer was watching his daughter and son swaddled as they slept, their hands holding each other's.
"They're perfect." JJ cooed.
Rossi wiped a small tear from his eye, as he gave a big pat on Spencer's back. The team had been watching the babies for about an hour as you slept.
"You're going to be a good father." Hotch smiled at Spencer before lightly touching Spencer's son's hand.
"I hope so." He looked at his kids, his daughter yawning slightly, tears filling his eyes as he realized how lucky he was. He never thought he would have kids, he thought he would never see you again, never thought you would allow him back into your life. He knew things were probably going to be rocky, a lot of conversations were going to be needed, but you had said you wanted him in your life along with being with his children.
"Spencer?" Your voice called out and him and the team looked up to see you with a big smile, your phone pointed at them as you took a photo of them. "Picture perfect."
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laurey257 · 10 months
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Good Omens fanfic recs that ease the pain. (All complete, canon-compliant)
I am an avid reader and I’ve been combing the floods of new (awesome) things hitting Archive and similar to find what best eases the pain of That Episode. Here’s the best canon-compliant and complete ones that give some soothing to the angst of our angel and demon parting:
**This was a hard decision but I am excluding works in progress since they need time to mature—all these are complete /compliant and can be invested in without fear.**
Jesus, Etc.
This one had me howling.  Crowley runs into a frantic Aziraphale with Jesus at a Barbenheimer premiere who he is frantically keeping busy to prevent the Second Coming.  A battle of the wills with pop songs in the Bentley, Taylor Swift, Kenergy, sushi, a nativity play and a magic show are the least of the insanity that comes next.  (Kudos for the awesome cameo from Mrs. Sandwich.)
To the Universe
This one is a 22-chapter, complete, canon-compliant season 3 full arc that can take the edge off for everyone who is internally screaming that we have years to wait to see all this resolve.  Really can’t say enough about this one.  It tied up every loose end.  Certain parts reminded me of Pratchett and the ending had me on the edge of my chair and cheering out loud.  (bonus extra in a hilarious treatment of Jesus in Tadfield that has him turning himself into a teen named Dave.) This could have been season 3 in another timeline.
Separate Ways
A sweet, short little one where Aziraphale has Muriel checking up on a devastated Crowley from the bookshop, and they finally at least talk.  No resolution, but it felt so nice to read. 
The Second Coming
One-shot (but around 7000 words in chapter format) that is canon-compliant.  Aziraphale “awakens” in the elevator (think ox ribs but sexually) and yeets himself back to earth to roger Crowley six ways from Sunday.  Smutty, so don’t read this one aloud to your parents.  (naked apology dance reference in here made my eyes fall out.)
Heaven is not fit to house a love
A sweet little one with a *small* deviation from canon (that seemed ok because they have a good point.) Crowley had never told Aziraphale about the way the angels managed his trial OR about what he saw in the Heavenly files with Muriel.  He jams his way into the elevator (telling the Metatron to get the next one) and tells him.
Not for all my Little Words
An adorable one where Aziraphale, realizing he screwed up, chases Crowley through loudspeakers and other people’s phones through Europe using famous love quotes until he gets his attention (and some forgiveness.)
Everywhere
Oh so lovely! A longer one-shot where Azi realizes that management is not what he cracked it up to be (they tell him nothing.) So he saves Crowley instead from a Heavenly asassination attempt. (Maggie, nina and anathema help!)
A Proper Apology
One where the Angel simply calls over and over until they really talk.  (Or imagine the idiots simply just used the phone.)
Cause you like me too much and I like you
A sweet little one where Aziraphale quietly resigns, has a chat with Gabriel and Beez in the bookshop, and does the apology dance.
A sweet little daydream Azi has in the elevator about apologizing to Crowley in the Ressurectionist pub  before waking up and realizing oh crap he is still in Heaven.
Did I miss any other good ones?  Tell me?
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haunted-moon · 4 months
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Long Way Home [Part X]
[Azriel x Reader fanfic]
Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.
Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.
Read Part 3 here. Read Part 9 here.
Read Part 4 here.
Read Part 5 here.
Read Part 6 here.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Part X
My father had taught me that most illnesses could be broadly classified into two: diseases that had a tendency to spread, and the diseases that did not. 
While treating a patient with a spreadable illness, there was a high risk of the caretaker getting ill. To combat this, we had made some discoveries like: covering the nose and mouth while in contact with the patient, washing hands with soap frequently and general personal hygiene. It didn't make the caretaker infallible, but it did lessen the risk of spreading. 
Azriel didn't have a cold or any other illness that spread, so I was pretty safe from that. He had an unusually high temperature paired with aches, dizziness, tiredness, and a minor stomach issue. 
Rhys and Cassian winnowed Azriel to my bedroom and I helped them get him under the covers. Father had fetched a couple of bags of his clothing and other supplies which I'd need. They promised to visit frequently and left. 
I sat beside him on the bed, tears threatening to spill over again as I took him in. His skin had lost its colour, his wings looked limp and he was murmuring deliriously as we settled him in. Now he looked like he was in some kind of fitful sleep, his arms and torso jerking now and then. I leaned over and kissed his forehead, sending waves of reassurance through the bond. His body instantly relaxed and the jerking stopped. 
I let him sleep until I finished making lunch, consisting of steaming vegetable broth which was both light on the stomach and masked the taste of the bitter medicine he had to take. I toasted some bread for myself and took a tray upstairs. 
When I gently woke him up to eat, he had trouble staying conscious at first, but when he figured out that it was me, he fought hard to stay awake. I cradled his head against my collarbone and fed him the broth from a small bowl. He hadn't eaten in days, and I didn't want him to throw up the food. I let him lie back down after wiping his mouth with the hem of the shirt I was wearing. Then, I placed a cold compress on his head to ease some of the temperature.
The medicine started working after a few hours. His body started sweating and the temperature reduced to a manageable level. It was just as Cassian had said: it was quickly healable illness, but it had come to this level because he refused any medicine. I gently wiped the sweat away with a damp cloth, then applied a soothing balm to help restore some moisture to his dried skin and lips. 
As the sun dipped in the west, the villa's magic lit the candles and sconces for light. Azriel's ever present shadows weren't there, and his beautiful wings looked brittle and fragile in the candlelight. 
His temperature rose a bit, though not to the previous unmanageable state. After I made him have another bowl of the medicine spiked broth, I stayed up all night trying to keep him cool with damp cloths and cold compresses. Throughout the night, there were a few times when he seemed to have awoken, but it was just his delirium talking. He was far more relaxed now, and I stayed beside him and held his hand as he mumbled my name. 
I was waiting for the fever to break, which might help him return to proper consciousness. I kept a careful watch to make sure it was reducing and there were no sudden spikes in his temperature. 
Somewhere in middle, he also had a nightmare, I think. I couldn't get him to wake up, so I held his hand physically and also reached out through the bond. 
Finally, the fever broke on the cusp of dawn, just as the morning birds were getting ready to herald a new day. His nightmare also seemed to have eased, and he was now calm. I had the sensation that he had reached out to me through our mating bond, as we were holding each both mentally and physically. 
After another round of wiping sweat, I laid down next to him for a quick nap before breakfast. I had to take care of myself too to take care of my sick mate properly. 
My body was tired from the all the work, and the nap turned into two hours of sleep. The morning sunlight was spilling through the open French windows when I opened my eyes. Cassian, Rhys, and my father were on the other side of the bed, and Azriel seemed to be awake. He was propped by pillows and talking to my father in low tones. 
They stopped talking and turned to me when I sat up and stretched. Azriel looked better now, not like a dead body as I had seen him yesterday. His eyes showed apprehension as he watched me. 
I merely stood up and walked to the door. There was a long conversation to be had, but first, Azriel had to get healthy. It could wait until that. 
"I'm making breakfast, hope you three will stay for that," I nodded at the others and made my way downstairs. 
I made some savoury vegetable oats, buttered toast and put the kettle to boil water for tea. Rhys, Cassian and father made their way down just as I was finishing up. They looked a bit suspicious to me, glancing at each other and then telling me that they'll serve themselves, and I should go just ahead and take a plate to Azriel. 
They wanted us to talk and clear it out. Sighing, I carried a tray upstairs. 
Azriel was lying back down when those three had left, but he raised his head at my entrance. When he noticed it was me, he started to push himself upright. I moved to help arrange the pillows behind his back so he was comfortable and sat down next to him. 
His body was still weak, and his hands trembled, so I fed him the food I had brought. 
"How are you feeling?" I asked after a couple of spoons. 
Instead of answering the question, he looked me directly in the eyes. "From the first time I saw you, I haven't had a proper night's sleep."
I exhaled audibly, returning the spoon to the bowl and waiting for him to go on. 
"You were alone and nervous during Rhys's treatment without your father present. But still, you never showed it on your face and saved him. And when you shifted to the House, you were a ray of sunshine that brought a smile to everyone's face."
I looked away from his intense gaze. "Never on your face, though."
"You've made me smile and laugh so many times that I've lost count."
I wasn't buying it, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? And somehow I happened to not see even one of those alleged smiles?"
He replied to this statement with a goddamn smile. 
I wasn't amused. I wanted to smash the bowl I was holding into his face.
I reined in my rising anger. Maybe I wasn't ready for this conversation yet. I needed more time to sort out my thoughts. 
I shoved another spoonful of oats into his mouth before he could say another word. Placing the bowl back on the tray, I pushed it onto his lap and stood up. He could eat on his own. 
"Finish eating and take rest," I started towards the door. 
"Y/n, please, wait. Listen to me—"
I whirled on him so fast that he instantly stopped. "Say another word and I'll poison your next meal and shove it down your throat. You can't just ignore me for months, giving uninterested replies to my attempts at conversation, then reject me when we found out that we were mates. As if that wasn't enough, you have the fucking audacity to FALL SICK AND HAVE ME TAKE CARE OF YOU! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP AND LET ME BE!"
I banged the door shut behind me and stomped down the stairs, breathing heavily from my outburst. 
Rhys, Cassian and my father were at the base of the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, I guess. They scattered like mice when they saw my murderous expression. Rhys started wiping down the table, Cassian was furiously scrubbing at the dishes and father was straightening things up. 
I was amused at Rhys and Cassian. Never thought the High Lord and his commander would be doing a domestic chore in my house out of fear. 
Fetching a bowl from a cabinet, I scooped some food in it and sat down at the table after Rhys was done. I set the bowl down hard enough to make the table rattle. The anger was still present. They all started inching towards the front door. 
"You're welcome to my house anytime," I said in a low, controlled voice, making them stand still. "But the next time you even attempt to patch things up between me and Azriel, I'll poison your food and turn your dead bodies into compost for my fruit orchard. And that includes you, father."
They all nodded wordlessly and tripped over each other trying to hurry outside. 
Well. 
Good thing to know that my anger rattled even the best of the High Lords in Prythian.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Tags:
@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 11 here.
This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home
Happy reading! <3
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
[Thank you for your patience as I know I was late in uploading these parts. I love you all very much <3]
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neverchecking · 1 year
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hi i just discovered your blog and your writing is amazing 😳 could i request wild x reader, breeding kink? can be yandere or not, up to you!
This deleted twice- if it does it again I'm going to cry-
You ABSOLUTELY can. You can, you can you can-
I have a bit of a favorite. sue me.
If your looking for some noice breeding stuff with wild, @fanfic-fairy-fountain has some mouth watering, thigh clenching, till it remembers every vein DILF! Wild content that made me bark man.
Anyway, Smut so MDNI! 18+
Smut CW: AFAB reader, Breeding Kink. Wild being his namesake, mans has baby fever badly.
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He couldn't explain it.
After coming out of the shrine of Resurrection, he had felt...lost. Like a shattered vase with too many pieces missing to have any hope of being put back together. He was no longer the knight that Zelda boasted around- that Link died in the shrine over a century ago- even if it didn't stop her from parading him around like a show pony. He wasn't a champion of old, Revali was right about one thing. He was just...Link. Link of Hateno, who lived on the outskirts of the small village. Who came into town every once in while for supplies. Who otherwise kept to himself, but remained friendly, as long as his companion was happy.
The village couldn't quite place what you meant to him, but that was fine. He knew what you meant to him. You were his Goddess. His reason for living. You kept him sane. You saw his shatter pieces and decided they were worth it. You saw his jagged edges and razor sharp features and soothed them all with a gentle hand and graceful words. You placed yourself firmly in his life without any intentions of leaving. He wouldn't let you leave anymore anyway.
Not when you had made such an impact in his life. Not when you put value in something he saw as worthless. Not when you put your entire trust into believing he could be someone worthy of your love. How could he let something like you, such a blessing, go? He couldn't.
And what better way to keep him tied to you by doing everything you asked of him? Want him to slay an entire monster camp? Elementary. Want him to go, venture out into the wilderness just to hunt this incredibly rare animal? Done. Want to sit on his face and choke him with your thighs? You better be ready to suffocate him because he's not coming out until your coming undone over top of him. Wanna ride his thighs? He's sitting prim and proper for you. Want to tie him up in satin ribbons to use for your own desires?
Just tell him when.
Anything to keep you happy. So when you came up to him, asking him so nicely to breed you, to fill you up, who was he to say no?
So he didn't.
Honestly, what better way to tell everyone you were his, and his alone than to fatten you up with his child? To make you round and plump with his seed. To tie you to him for the rest of your lives.
There was no better way he realized.
Sure he could paint your neck and back and chest and thighs in bitemarks and bruises in his own signature color, singing his name on you in his own unique way. Sure he could put the fattest, prettiest rock he could mine on your finger, watching as you wore it with pride. Sure he could that all.
But none of it quite painted you as his as a child did. An absolute precious little being a perfect mix of the two of you. He could see it now. And absolute angel with your hair and nose, maybe his eyes and ears. Filled with his trademark sense of curiosity, only to be paired with a healthy sense of caution you would instill in them.
Would you want an entire Litter of children to trample along your feet? Or maybe just two or three to focus your attention to carry your legacy? Or perhaps just one perfect mix of you two to shape into the best person this world had to offer.
Didn't matter. He would give you anything and everything you wanted.
Right now? You wanted to be filled.
And he would comply, tearing your tunic and bottoms from your body and pinning you to the dining room table. One hand kept your chest to the table, pushing between your shoulder blades as he freed himself with a single hand. Your whines and please, all but begging for him to breed you, fill you, start your family right then and there ignited a fiery inferno underneath of him, just aching to make your dreams come true.
Anything to keep you tied to him.
His grip was practically bruising as he pulled your hips to meet his with every thrust, ensuring the head of his cock kissed your cervix with every plunge. It had you crying out for him over and over again, tears pearling in your eyes. He cooed at your trembling form, leaning over you without loosing tempo to thumb away your tears. He kissed your cheeks, temples, anywhere he could reach really, letting the one hand left holding your hips drift to fiddle with your clit. He circled it in steady circles, making the tears come back as you jutted against him, thighs twitching wildly.
"Shh, that's it wildflower, just let me take care of you. Leave everything to me. I'll fill you up so nicely, you'll have no choice but to carry our child. In no time at all, you'll be all round and gorgeous, telling everyone you're mine. All mine."
You came with with a hard cry, milking him for what you desperately craved. And if you wanted it, he'd give it to you. The one hand that was gently brushing your tears away snaked between your body and the table, gently cupping your throat so he could pull you against his chest while the other one returned to your hips. He pulled you flush against him, biting into your neck with a muted growl as he emptied into your womb.
But that wouldn't be enough. No. he wouldn't be satisfied until you were nothing but a brainless little thing, trusting him to breed you, and even then, one more wouldn't hurt, would it?
You'd get the child you wanted. He'd make sure of it.
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bun-z-bakery · 1 month
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(Repost from my abandoned account) these are just my personal head canons for dogday. this is a survivor au
(All characters are over 18 btw)
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-dogday sometimes has dog like tendencies, like growling, barking etc.
-he doesn't remember a lot about his life as a worker but will share stories he remembers of his human life once you two become close.
-man is like a love sick puppy. First you save him? Give him legs? AND a home?! And his friends are here too?! You really are his angel.
-he's very protective of his angel. He can't have anyone take them away or even hurt them. Plus all those years locked away, he can't loose you, you're his hope.
-this man will most certainly plan his confession, script and all. Maybe you're away at work and this is something he's been working on for a while. He's always bringing you little gifts on his hunting trips (depending on if you like to collect rocks and such) but this dude went out of his way to find the best of the best. Even somehow found flowers beautiful enough to almost rival your beauty, keyword: almost.
-he enjoys spending time with you, poppy and kissy, he enjoys playing outside with you three, even if you guys have been out of the factory for years already. They still enjoy the outside world.
-I know bro is huge, like dude is taller than an American door way (according to some measurements fans have made, hes 9'5) if you're a shorty (like me 5 feet even😭) he will most definitely pick you up and carry you like a dogtoy. He likes the feeling of carrying his angel, it gives him a sense of pride doing so. Even if you accidentally hit the ceiling or he needs to really get down so you don't hit the top of the doorframe, he will always apologize or joke about it.
-he's a cuddler, he LOVES cuddling! He has his own giant dog bed in your shared room, but he prefers to sleep on your shared bed. If you're away from work and he's eepy, he'll pass out on your bed because it smells like you. Your scent keeps him at bay until you come home. Poor guy will shoot up and push anyone out of his way to be the first to get to you! He sits there on the floor waiting for his mandatory headpats and kisses as soon as he hears your keys.
-it takes his brain a few minutes to properly turn on. After all those years he finally gets proper sleep, I can imagine you waking up first and getting ready for the day to prepare breakfast for the group and you poke him, trying to wake him. He'll mumble some random stuff about not letting rats do taxes then fall back asleep only to be woken again by your pokes still talking nonsense. I can also see him sometimes waking up confused, you know like when you wake up your parents and they're mad for no reason asking what's wrong while gasping for air? (Just me?) I can see him being THAT dead asleep bhahsha
-my take on the survivor au is more of a modern take (as in yes the factory closed years also but reader is possibly in early to late 20s sometime in 20xx / non specified year) so they weren't an employee but probably knew someone like a family member who worked there or was dared to enter the factory (we'll see if I ever post my fanfic haha as these hcs kinda tie into that story) so dogday being alive in the 80s or 90s he probably has like the old school idea of love and attempts to swoon you as such. The flowers, cheesy pick up lines.
-I can imagine because he's not up to date with the newer terms and he might be confused while trying to seem cool haha. "Angel what does rizzler mean?" (Poor peepaw)
- Personally I love the theory that DogDay is an ex worker aka Rich. Which is probably why he was the leader of the smiling critters. Because he was mature enough to make sure everyone was in line/well behaved, I also think some other workers were turned into the mascots too (obviously) but maybe they trusted Rich more so they just threw him into the dance circle and hope that he'd be a good leader.
- this one ties into the first one btw! I like the think that maybe he was one of the mascots when he worked there. Like a guy in the costume who worked with the kids (hence the zipper, how else would the workers get into the bigger body suits?)
- I like to think DogDay likes when Angel calls him by his old human name. Maybe once he opens up more about his human life (or at least bringing up some of the memories he still has) he just randomly brings up his name when talking about a memory and hearing Angel repeat his name back, he'd probably like hearing it. It might make him feel like less of a monster in a sense. Granted I think he wouldn't care about what Angel calls him but he would most definitely prefer for them to alternate. Like you know when someone makes you mad and you use their real name instead of their nickname? He'd hate for his Angel to get mad, especially at him. But when living with 3 other people it can get a bit hectic.
"DogDay! Did you bring mud into the house?!"
"N-No!... "
*silence*
"RICH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
*footsteps are heard and DogDay bolts out the door*
- Now this head canon I have can go either one of two ways, right? Hear me out. Listen up, listen carefully, and listen closely. (Lmk if you got that reference) ok so back to the zipper! I think the zipper just opens to his organs tbh like the zipper was just left functional in case he needed to be "repaired internally". BUT another thought, I also can see there being some sort of barrier! You know those stuff animals who have their stuffing blocked by a barrier so it doesn't fall out but the zipper opens to a compartment where you can store items? I kinda think that's whats there tbh, I mean it makes sense. What if one of the kids opened the zipper by mistake? Surely there would be a barrier just in case.
- as I mentioned in the last hc post, I can see him trying to swoon Angel in the old romantic type of way. I can see him pinning after Angel hard, at first they wouldn't get the hint, they'd probably think he's thinks he's indebted to them for rescuing them and giving the 3 of them a better and new life. But quickly they realize bro is in love. Of course poppy teases him about it too at some point lol. He doesn't really try to hide it either. I can see poppy and kissy thinking it's sweet and first then they get annoyed once you're the only thing he talk about lol.
- You're married. That's all! No but I can see in his mind you two are basically married. He'd probably want to have new custom star collars made for both of you or maybe even a ring for you and a matching collar or something for him to wear and propose. Of course it will bother him a bit because he can't go out with you, take you on dates or show you off but he trusts you (even though he gets jealous when you smell like someone else) he basically tries his best with what you guys have (If only there was a holiday that came once a year where you guys could go out dressed in customs without looking like freaks).
- He looks like the type of guy who would love pasta. I'm not sure why or how this even came into mind but I just feel like that's what he often wants for dinner. Poppy would probably eat fruit for dinner, kissy isn't really picky, but Dogday would probably be asking for either pasta or meat. Also I think Angel would be hesitant to feed certain foods to Dogday because you know, he's a dog (not really but hear me out) but because he acts like one at times I could see Angel being like haha nope you can't eat this!
*Angel eating chocolate cookies*
"May I have some?" *cutely pouts*
"I don't want you dying, love."
"You know I'm not actually a dog...right?"
ok ok you got me there" (they just really didn't wanna share lol)
- tbh this is more of a general head canon for the toys but I seeing as they had to resort to c*nnibalism. They clearly need food and water to survive. I think catcap was probably keep Dogday alive as a "lol now look at you now, look at me" (yes that's a BP reference) moment but only feeds him when he felt like it, since food is basically scarce in that place. I think that their human organs were transferred over but little things like veins, teeth, tongue, blood vessels basically anything that's not a major organ was made artificially and connected in a sense to those major organs making them function as such.
Yeah that's kinda it lol, there might be some more parts to this if I can think of anything else! But yeahhh that's kinda my hc and rambles lol (I tend to ramble a lot especially when I have to give context, I apologize!)
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yuyu1024 · 5 months
Text
Two friends with Benefit
Pairings: Yunho × y/n x Mingi
Genre/tags: arranged marriage, cheating
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 poly, smut, cursing, pet names, jealousy, smut/angst, kink/fetish, fingering, unprotected sex [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 1.3k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: reposting all my stories one by one again as I deleted my acct by mistake. All of the stories I will be posting is all mine. (All of my fanfics/oneshots are also available wattpad @/shinestar1024)
It has been more than a year since you moved in to your new apartment. Work has been so hectic for you that going back from work and your house, with your parents, every damn day is too much to handle. Sleep is very important for you. If you can't sleep, you can't focus on work. And if you can focus o work, your boss will probably yell at you and shame you in front of everybody. Nobody wants that. You need this job. You need the paycheck and that money can't give you the space you need. Everything is so damn expensive these days.
And that's why, you are incredibly lucky that your two best friends from college offered their extra room for you.
Yunho and Mingi are both working at the same tech company that is in the area. Their work pays well thats why they can afford the nice and spacious apartment they have now.
The room they gave you was their gaming room. Its spacious enough for you and your needs so you can't complain about it. It's free! Actually everything is sort of free to you. They didn't asked you to pay or share besides your part of the rental. Which makes you question how much they earn by typing things in their computers.
But besides that, the two towers are not just your roommates. Besides being your bestfriends, these two have been your fuck bodies for awhile now. It started from a small bet while all three of you are tipsy and now it flourished to this amazing trio that you thought will never work but It did... and its still going.
"Babe!" Mingi is across the street from where you at, waving. He's smiling and jumping. He can't wait to cross the street. Yunho is standing beside him, laughing at him.
When the signal says Okay to cross, Mingi runs and immidiately hugs you. "Y/n, you're back!"
You've been away for a week because of a work thing and this has been the longest you three have been separated.
"Yeaaah, glad to be back. I miss my bed..." You pout
"Just the bed?" Yunho tugs the strand of hair that's been bothering you.
"Of course I missed you two! My roommate for the trip is a handful... she's so talkative and does not respect my personal space. I CAN'T!" you say, rolling your eyes.
"Guess you prefer us being noisy than her..." Mingi says
"Of course..." You wrap your hands around his arm and lean your head.
"You look tired... so let's get home and eat something good to make you feel better." Yunho takes your luggage and carries it for you.
"Thank, Yunho."
When you guys arrive at the apartment, the first thing you did is lay down on the huge as sofa that you call your second bed. This is is where you usually fall asleep after a night out or an extreme overtime at work.
"I miss this!" You hug the pillows like you've been gone for a year.
"Yah!" Yunho comes over and playfully pulls your leg so you get closer to him and slaps your butt "Don't be such a tease this... we should eat first... like proper food before we can play."
You giggle as you see how Yunho's eyes are gazing on you. "Did you missed me that much?"
"you have no idea." he crawls over you until he reaches you, close enough that both of you lips almost touchs.
You bit your lip gently, teasing him even more. "You can show me later..." you whisper
"Oh, you bet I will." Yunho leans more and finally kisses you. The kiss is soft and yet tender that it pulls you in wanting more.
"Seriously? No one is going to help me prepare dinner?" Mingi calls you guys out
Laughing, "Okay, okay! I will get up and help you!" Yunho plants a small kiss on your cheek before letting you go.
"You! Yunho! You're taking advantage of me being busy here in the kitchen...why did you start making out with y/n?"
"I'm sorry! I can't help it. I missed her." Yunho takes an apron and puts it in.
"I too, missed her. I've been dreaming about having sex with her for days now... but we need to cook first!" Mingi pouts
"Aww! Mingi!" You get up and walk towards the kitchen to hug your baby giant. "Don't pout... I am back... we can make your dreams come true."
Hearing that made Mingi happy. He can't hide the smile on his face. "I promise to make you feel good. To fill you up." He leans down to kiss you, placing his hand behind your neck.
You start to moan as he continues to kiss you, then suddenly you felt hands moving from behind you. "Maybe... we should just skip dinner or order in for later?" Yunho breathes as his hands skims over your breast.
"Ah! Yunho!" You cry, leaning your head back to his chest. He's fingers circling over your hard tips. "S-shit! That's so good!"
"Baby, you sound so heavenly." Mingi goes down on his knees, kissing your exposed stomach as she starts to unbutton your jeans.
"Your breast is so plump." Yunho kisses you hard as he massages your boobs. "It's perfect... that... it fits our hands..." he says in between kisses.
"Ahh!" You raise your hand to grab onto Yunho as you feel the cooling sensation down there. Mingi removed your pants so easily.
"I've been craving this for a week now." Mingi snarls as he puts his face between your legs. "I want to eat now... can I go ahead?" He asks Yunho
"Go ahead... I'll make her busy up here..." Yunho changes his position have more access to yout breast. "Tell us to stop okay? If it's too much..."
"I... will..uhhh..." you try to answer but your knees weakens as you felt Mingi's tongue lick you up. "G-God!"
Smirking, Yunho unclasps your bra, freeing your plumps breast. He grabs one to massage while the other one he starts to lick using his tongue.
"Fuck!" You grab onto the counter for support. These guys are really making up for the whole damn week you've been gone. They are sucking the life out of you.
"W-wait..." you tap both of them. They stop and looks at you. "Let me... breathe..."
"Are we being too much?" Yunho kisses the back of your hand. "Do you want us to continue this on bed?"
"I can't wait to go to bed. Just fuck me on the sofa." You pull both of them with you. "Sit."
The two of them follows. They both stare at you, as you strip the rest of your clothes in front of them.
"Damn." Mingi bites his lips as he watches you. "You're so sexy!"
"Am I?" After throwing away the last clothing, you get closer to Mingi, spread your legs and sat on his lap. "Since, you are the first one to talk... you can fuck me first."
"Yes!" Mingi lowers down his jogger bands along with his boxers. The tip of his cock shows and the sight already makes you wet. "Come to Daddy little kitten!"
He gently puts himself in your core. He's to long and thick that you can already feel the thightness.
"Baby," you cry as you look at Yunho, sitting beside you two, watching. "Fuck!" You gasp as Mingi begins thrusting. "Kiss me..." You ask Yunho
He takes his top off, lowers his pants and moves closer to kiss you as he strokes himself.
"Y/n!" Mingi cries as you start to move your hips together with him in rythm. "You're so... tight!" He growls. "S-so good!"
Yunho backs away from kissing you and then moves to the next person. "You're so noisy. Making me jealous that you're fucking her first." Yunho goes in and kisses Mingi.
The other boy is so naughty, that he bit Yunho's lip lightly. "Don't worry. I'll make it quick so you can fuck her next while I fuck you behind."
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coltermorning · 2 months
Text
Of Love and Loss Ch. 13 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)
Summary: You and Arthur get to know the town better, getting to know each other better in the process.
Author’s Notes: This chapter needed some major reconstruction, so I apologize for the wait on it! I split it in half and completely changed the ending, but I’m so glad I did because it’s one of my favorite chapters now. Enjoy all the fluff and these two getting drunk together for the second time :) Chapter thirteen of this one.
Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence
AO3 Link
~
Of Love and Loss
Thirteen: Townsfolk
Word count: 5416
You startled awake at some point in the night, darkness pushing in through the lone window. Once you had your bearings, a sudden panic overtook when you realized Arthur wasn’t there until you saw him lying on the floor beside you. You’d slept through his return. And the fool had refused to wake you, had let you have the bed. This was no better than lying under canvas for him. You told yourself you would berate him for it once he woke, but the thought soon eddied away when your tiredness overtook you once more, your panic easing away now that you knew he was there beside you, that you didn’t have to face the bedroom alone. You fell back into dreams of your family, of a past life, of a time when you were never alone.
~
You must have truly needed rest, as you awoke a second time to Arthur reentering the room, having slept through him ever leaving it. You were normally a lighter sleeper.
“Just stabled Harriet and Bo,” he said. “Figured they could use a good rest and plenty of hay.”
“Does this mean we’re staying?” You couldn’t help the hope that lined those words.
Arthur caught it and smirked. “What, my company that miserable?”
Truth be told it was…quite the opposite. But before you could blush over the thought of that kiss, you pushed on. “You don’t see me running for the hills. Yet.”
“Yet,” he replied with a low laugh. He turned to the small mirror and basin the room had to offer, running his hand over his beard. It had grown long in the time you’d been traveling with him. His hair had too, starting to hang down past his eyes when his hat wasn’t pinning it back.
“You’re starting to look like a Montanan,” you told him. Starting to, because most men’s beards were twice the length of his in those snowy mountains.
“I usually keep it short,” he said, still looking at his reflection. “But it’s sure as shit been cold enough not to.”
You shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“The cold or the beard?” he asked, his hand falling as he turned to you. And when his eyes landed on you, the room suddenly felt a little smaller.
“The cold. Afraid I’ve no experience on the latter.”
He smirked, and you hated how much that look burned you up inside. You turned away.
“Well,” he said. “I’m starving. Want to go eat a proper meal? See a little of this country for yourself?”
Your heart gave a nervous kick at the very idea.
“It’s either that, or you’re staying here,” he added, and you knew without having to look at him he was just trying to rile you. Of course you would come with him, no matter how begrudgingly you did.
“Forgive me for not liking either of those options.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, and I can think of worse ones. Especially having to deal with me when I haven’t eaten, so come on.”
You rolled your eyes and wondered when the day would come that he would stop using his humor to get you to agree to things. Or maybe when you would finally find the will not to listen.
You threw your legs over the bedside and stood, realizing you were still wearing his clothes. “It won’t be…odd for me to walk around looking like this?”
“Like that? Sure,” he said with a laugh.
You glared at him. His amusement wasn’t helping.
“Here,” he said, crossing the room. And you let him invade your space without pause as he turned up your coat collar, sticking your hat low on your head to hide your hair. No matter that your heart was racing. That you felt disappointment take hold when he stepped away.
“Could pass for a man now. Ain’t no one looking a man’s way, ill-fitting clothes or no.”
“Great,” you said flatly. But Arthur just gestured to the door, and you scowled and did as he said, making for it.
After eating one very well-deserved meal of oatmeal piled with sugar, you and Arthur explored the town. It was interesting to see how mankind lived all intertwined like this. And sure enough, you got to look around relatively unnoticed. After a stop at the launder for your and Arthur’s clothes in which you weren’t even glanced at, you came out with a newfound confidence. It was nice being looked over, being an afterthought. All you had ever known of other people was unwanted attention, and now you felt freer than you ever had around so many eyes. It made for an enjoyable morning.
Arthur found a barber and stopped in, annoyed with all that hair after all. You sat outside in the sunshine and watched the people mill about. If where you were headed was anything like this for you, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
You were basking in the rare heat when you heard spurs clicking in your direction.
“Ready to go back?” Arthur asked.
You turned to answer, but when your gaze landed on him, words escaped you. His beard was now nothing more than stubble, his hair shorter but still framing his face, his hat in his hands instead of on his head for once. He was…distractingly handsome.
Apparently thinking you had fallen into another one of your spells of not speaking, Arthur put his hat back on his head. “I posed that like a question, but let me rephrase. You’re coming with me.”
The way he cleaned up so well plus him demanding that of you…it had you blurting out words to shake your sudden stupor.
“Why not stay? Get to know the town a little better, I mean.”
He smirked at you. You couldn’t figure why, your nerves at looking at him making it hard to do so.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” he jeered.
“What?”
“You, sitting around enjoying the place.”
“I just- I’ve never-”
“Save it,” he said, holding up a hand. “You don’t have to explain it to me. But tell you what, let’s go back, let it get dark, then I’ll show you around. Town’s always best at night anyhow.”
You could feel the nerves veritably rushing through you at the prospect of that, at all these people, at him. But you just nodded and stood. “Lead the way then.”
You were pondering what it would be like to finally get to experience this kind of life when you looked up and were faced with Arthur’s broad back, his mere presence carving a path through the people walking about. Had it always been that broad? And had he always looked that good in that big coat?
You shook your head to get that particular madness out of it and went back to watching the townsfolk. Anything to distract you from the one thing you wouldn’t allow yourself to think of for the remainder of this trip.
Nearing the hotel, you still felt those cursed nerves, but you had fully convinced yourself they were nothing more than timidness over the town. Certainly not a lone room and a bed and an outlaw to keep you company.
~
Arthur sat in the chair in the corner of the room and drew in his journal. He had stripped his coat, the heat of the day making it sweltering inside the hotel. He was just glad it wasn’t snowing. He’d had enough of that to last him the year. So he took up his time drawing the town you found yourselves in, debating what trouble to get you into tonight. He’d told himself miles back he’d show you how to cut loose for once, only now it seemed not the brightest idea he’d had. Now all he could think of was those men’s eyes on you at that shit hole of a trading post. But he’d given you his word, and he wouldn’t go back on it. Not when you had shown genuine excitement for once, all over seeing the glamor of city living. Well, glamor was a stretch, but it was something to you at least. More than could be said for Montana. So he sketched down a few bricks on a building side, debating all the while some type of harmless fun. Harmless, because his type of fun usually ended up being anything but. He wouldn’t show that particular genius to you lest you both end up in a jail cell. He grinned at the very thought.
The sound of the creaking bed reached Arthur’s ears, and he snuck a glance at you, seeing you sprawled out on your back, lazily reading the ledger you held above you. You were calmer here. He could tell you felt safe when you had been fine staying outside while he visited the barber earlier. And especially when you’d wanted to stay. Considering what happened in the last settlement, he was surprised you even wanted to do that much. But this trip would be coming to an end in a few short weeks, and maybe you, like he, knew it was time you got used to being on your own. Or without him, more like. Though he did feel a certain pride that you felt so safe around him, the same pride that still plagued him while he sat there admiring his shirt on you. It made him want to…well. Best not to think on that.
“Think I could make it as a trader in Nebraska?” Your eyes remained on the ledger despite the question.
“I know you could,” Arthur said, going back to drawing. “Better question is, would you want to?”
You sat up then, sitting cross-legged on the bed in a way that drew his eye.
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“You’re good at hunting,” Arthur said. “Those are two different things. You want to be a traveling salesman on top of that?”
“Maybe. Probably not.” You looked down at the ledger, your lower lip catching between your teeth. It took everything in Arthur not to stare at your mouth. “I don’t know,” you went on. “Maybe I could have a stall in town. I’m sure I could sell something if it was as valuable as what Pa used to sell.”
“Sure,” Arthur said, surprised at your ambition. How far you had come, willing to consider opening your own stall in a town you used to think you would never make it to. Planning a future for yourself. He was proud of you for it.
“Anyway,” you said, shutting the ledger and setting it aside. “You got any thread? Sewing needle?”
He let his amusement show. “No.”
You scoffed. “Of course you don’t. I was going to offer to sew up your coat.” You pointed at it where it lie on a trunk under the window, the afternoon sun shining down on it.
“Well, I ain’t got any.”
“Sure.” Then you stood and crossed the room, headed right for the door.
“Where you think you’re going?”
“To find some. Most women have a needle and thread on them. At least, the ones working here probably do. I’ll go ask.”
“Hang on. I didn’t keep you cooped up in here all day just to get snatched now,” Arthur said.
“I won’t get snatched,” you said, already opening the door and shooting him a glare all at once. Like an entirely different person from the one who had followed his every step just yesterday. For some reason, this sudden confidence shut Arthur up, and he let you be. The door closed behind you with force, leaving him shaking his head and going back to his journal.
The minutes ticked by, and Arthur got to a stopping point with his drawing and stood, moving to the window to have something to do with his restlessness. Looking out over the back street, he spied a small, dingy-looking saloon that didn’t even have a name, just ‘saloon’ written in big block letters. It would normally be a place he would be drawn straight to if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t take you there. Certainly not with the kind of population that frequented those places. His population, he thought with a chuckle. You were damn lucky Dutch and Hosea had drilled some manners into him, what few they could. But the place did give him an idea for the night’s festivities.
The door creaked open behind him, and Arthur turned to find you with thread in hand, showing it off in triumph.
“Told you. She even had blue.”
“How ‘bout that?” he teased, though he was secretly grateful you had gone so far as to get the proper color thread. No one else would have bothered with something like that.
You motioned to his coat, and he picked it up and threw it to you. You took his spot in the lone chair and set to work, Arthur trying not to watch too closely. He instead went to looking back out the window, thinking of what the pair of you could get up to.
“This is a pretty wide gash. You sure you didn’t get scratched too bad?”
Arthur hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the scratch the wolf had left behind on his arm. He had enough scars to forget to worry about the smaller ones.
“Nah, it ain’t bad. Don’t need any stitches at least.”
You were quiet for a moment, likely thinking of your own nasty scar. Then, “Your shirt needs mending too. I’ll work on it once we get it back from the launder.”
Arthur looked at you then. You were never so nice to him this…willingly. It reminded him of when you’d cleaned the blood off his face, and the thought made something finally click in his brain.
“You do this kind of thing for your parents?”
He knew he’d gotten it right when you didn’t immediately respond. Then, in a small voice, “Momma taught me.”
You didn’t talk about her much. Usually only your father and all he had taught you. But Arthur was willing to bet that defiance in you didn’t come from him. It was a trait best suited to daughters who had learned how to fight through testing their mothers.
“Well, I’m glad she did. I’m dogshit at sewing.”
You snorted a laugh. “I’m not surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You may be pretty at shooting a gun, but sewing’s a far cry with those big hands.”
Arthur felt his face heat at the word pretty but barreled through the feeling it brought him. “I sewed you up just fine.”
Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You went red. “And you’re not going to let me forget it, are you?”
He felt his smile widen of its own volition. “Never.”
You didn’t respond, only smiled down at your sewing. Then you were bringing the needle away, gathering up the thread. “Done.” You handed the coat back to him. He took it and examined the new patch, a small line of darker blue now marring his right coat sleeve. It was a token of sorts—something to forever remind him of this trip.
“Thanks.” He meant it. You just waved him off.
Instead of putting the coat down, he put it on, not buttoning it up to keep the heat at bay. “Well, we may as well get going before the shops close. I have one more errand to run.”
You didn’t hesitate to stand, your eagerness returning. “What errand?”
He grinned. “You’ll see, nameless.”
He hadn’t called you that in a while, and it had you swatting at him as you passed, heading for the door. He opened it before you could, holding it ajar for you with hand outstretched. It made you even madder, and all he could do was laugh as he shut and locked the door behind you both.
The town was livelier at this hour, just as Arthur suspected it would be. Most folks were off work, in town to blow off steam after a long day. The heat had tapered off with the setting sun, turning it into the perfect golden evening. It was as good an introduction to regular life as you would ever get.
“You plan on telling me where we’re going?”
Arthur glanced at you, at your funny-looking clothes. “We could always stop at the launder, get you your clothes back.”
You caught the amusement on his face and frowned. “I don’t want them back yet. I was enjoying blending in just fine earlier.”
He figured. Looking ahead, Arthur found the shop he needed just down the main road. “Going to the gunsmith. I need more revolver cartridges since you shot all mine at nothing.”
“And you wonder why I’m mad at you all the time,” you muttered under your breath. He grinned.
The gunsmith had a fairly bare-bones shop, but it had what Arthur was looking for. He coughed up the money and was soon putting the cartridge boxes in his satchel, getting a few out to stick them in his gun belt.
“As riveting as this is,” you said, watching him do it, “I had hoped for a more…memorable evening. To be one of the townsfolk, if you will.”
Arthur finished and waved at the gunsmith, opening the door for you. “You always gotta be on a man’s case so bad?”
“It’s the duty of every woman.”
Arthur barked a laugh and pointed at the saloon he had already scoped out—the Red Horse. It was the biggest of the three saloons he had seen in town. Biggest usually meant easiest to blend into. “That’s where we’re headed. You up for it, miss townsfolk, or is that not memorable enough for you?”
He could see your eyes catch on it, see the way you clammed up with nerves before you calmed yourself back down. “No, memorable is a good word, I think.”
“Good. Come on then.” You both made to cross the street, but a horse and rider came barreling through so fast from around the corner you didn’t see it in time. Arthur grabbed your hand and yanked you back. He expected you to be cross about his saving your hide, as you tended to be, but instead you looked down at your hand. He was still holding it. He dropped it and cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”
You wouldn’t meet his eye then, turning to attempt the street again. Or maybe to get ahead of him so he couldn’t see that blush on your face, but it was too late for that. He had seen it, and it was making him stare after you like an idiot.
Arthur remembered himself and rushed after you, putting all meaning of that blush behind him lest he let some pitiful semblance of hope get to him.
The saloon was lively and growing fuller by the minute, the bar full and nearly all of the tables the same.
“Beer or whiskey?” he asked you, having to talk loud over the man at the nearby piano as he pushed you into the room.
“Beer,” you responded, busy taking in the scene before you. Life at its very simplest. Gambling, alcohol, and a good time. Women, too. There were women hanging off of men’s arms everywhere, and Arthur hoped the sight would settle you some, as it seemed to settle you having women around in that hotel.
“Over here.” Arthur steered you toward the bar and let you stand behind him as he got the barman’s attention. He placed his order and handed more money over, thinking he needed to count through all he had left before the trip was over. He didn’t want to find himself without the means to get back to his gang. The bartender handed him two beers, and all thought of that washed away as Arthur pushed back through the growing crowd with you and made for a less populated wall to stand against.
Enjoying the first taste of his beer with more satisfaction than he could name, Arthur sat back and watched you. He had to keep from laughing at the way your head kept turning in all directions to take everything in. This would be a regular night for him, given that the gang had made it into town, but for you it was likely a whole new world.
“Careful not to hurt your neck there,” he said, smiling over his beer.
You shot him a dirty glance but saw him drinking and seemed to remember the beer in your own hand. You brought it to your mouth to take a sip, and Arthur couldn’t resist watching the way your lips touched the bottle. Something shot through him at the sight that he let be for once.
“God, that’s terrible,” you said, cringing. “Is there any alcohol that doesn’t taste like shit?”
He chuckled. “Probably not. But that’s not why you drink it.” He thought of how much gin he had downed with you that had led to a kiss and knew that to be true.
The pair of you took to arguing over how well you could handle yourself in a town like this before a game of poker across the way got so rowdy it couldn’t be ignored any longer.
“Ever played cards?” he asked.
You shook your head. “Don’t know how.”
“Come watch me then. I’ll show you.” And, at your sudden reluctance, “Relax, I won’t make you play.”
You eyed him and took another swig of beer before cringing just as noticeably, motioning at him to lead the way.
There were only two players left sitting at the poker table, but both had such high stacks of chips that Arthur knew better than to get in on the game until after one busted. Those high stakes were also why a crowd had gathered and was cheering so loudly for one man or the other. The pair of you watched alongside them, most rooting for the yellow-haired working stiff nearest you. The other man, a well-dressed but worse for wear man with a hatted, dark-haired head had men cheering for him that all looked just like him—well-dressed but sloppy.
“Stick it to him, boy!” someone shouted at the working man. His cards were visible to those standing behind him, showing a strong hand—two high-value diamonds to the flop’s two of the same suit.
Arthur knew as the turn revealed the third diamond—giving the man a flush—that he had his opponent beat. And sure enough, he went all in. Either bluffing or drunk, the other man followed suit and swiftly lost all his winnings.
“Now, now hold on,” he slurred, standing. “I saw him stick that diamond up his sleeve an hour ago!”
“Awe, save it, Lawrence!” someone in the crowd shouted back.
Arthur was too amused to notice you leave until he turned to find you gone entirely. Panic overtook him before he spotted you against the nearest wall, watching from a distance. He stormed over.
“What are you doing running off like that?”
“I didn’t want to be in the middle of…whatever that is.” You pointed to the poker table, and Arthur watched as the interaction between the two players started to get heated, the slimy-looking one not wanting to pay up.
He turned back to you. “Fair enough. But warn me next time.”
You eyed him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You turned your attention back to the others, taking another sip of beer. And Arthur was mad at you for it, for distracting him like that when he should have been giving you a piece of his mind. But instead he watched your mouth again, watched as your lips pursed against the glass and thought of how they had felt against his own. He turned away and took a sizable drink himself.
To take his mind off of things, Arthur started explaining poker to you, namely the game that had just been played. You asked a few of the usual questions—what call and check meant and why the seedy man’s high card didn’t win him the game. Arthur finally seemed to explain things well enough that you said, “I get it. Go play then. I’ll watch.”
“I ain’t leaving you over here.”
“I know you want to play, Arthur. Go. I’ll stand closer if it makes you feel better.”
The sarcasm lining your words had him ready to argue.
“Just go,” you said with a small smile, pushing against his chest. Your hands on him made him comply. Made him melt into compliance, more like.
“I’m…getting another beer,” he said. “Then poker.” He hadn’t even realized he was out until then.
“Go then. I’ll be fine here.” Arthur really didn’t want to leave you. But you were looking at him with a light in your eyes you didn’t normally have. And he knew, stubborn fool that he was, that he wouldn’t always be there to protect you. Now was as good a time as any to test you when you were so comfortable being left alone.
“Stay here,” he said, voice filled with as much authority as he could muster.
“Yes, Arthur,” you teased, and even that did something funny to his insides. Christ, what the hell was he doing, getting so worked up? He needed to be drunker than this. Much drunker.
Two beers later and deep in his cards, Arthur kept turning to make sure you were there. You always were, usually shaking your head at him for the way he played his cards—he was almost out of chips to show for it.
He had a decent hand but not a great one when he heard you come up behind him and whisper, “Fold.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw the other man’s cards.”
Arthur had to stifle his laugh, but he did as you said. Then he was finishing his beer, cashing in while he still had some money left, and leaving the table. Only when you were far enough away so as not to be overheard did he turn to you. “That’s cheating, you know. I didn’t take you for a cheater.”
“I didn’t take you for a terrible card player.”
“I walked into that,” Arthur said as he stepped up to the bar to order yet another beer, this time two. Once in hand, he gave you the second one. “Cheers.”
You looked around for something to do with your empty bottle. “Here,” Arthur said on a laugh, forgetting how much you really didn’t know about this sort of thing. He took it, set it on the bar top, and turned back to you. “Now. To long, miserable, back-breaking travel. And not long left to go.” He held his bottle neck out to yours.
You smiled. “To you, Arthur.” You clinked the bottles together.
“Awe, come on, nameless. Don’t get sappy on me now.”
That smile of yours remained, and Arthur returned it before turning his bottle up.
The night went on, more beer drank and more people spilling in the doors than you had likely ever seen in your life. Arthur knew he was due to be cut off when he saw a few patrons dancing and thought it a good idea for the two of you to join them. Just for a moment. Then he came to his senses. But he asked you anyway, knowing it would irk you.
“Spare me a dance?” He held his hand out to you.
You swatted it away. “Very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, you’re not. I don’t think you know the meaning of that word.”
He barked a laugh. “Probably not.”
“Why don’t you show me this big, bad outlaw I’m supposed to be traveling with instead?”
“What?” He turned to you, shocked you brought it up.
“I keep hearing about him,” you joked. “Haven’t seen him for myself yet.”
“And you ain’t going to. You don’t want to.”
You leaned in close to talk low, and Arthur made a point not to look at you lest he think about how easy it would be to kiss you. “You mean to tell me you haven’t thought of picking anyone’s pocket tonight? Not one?”
Truth be told, he had. It was overcrowded, the patrons were drunk, and it would be easy enough to get lost or blame it on someone else if things went south. But he wouldn’t risk that with you here.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Some outlaw you are,” you teased, and the winning smile you gave him stopped him in his tracks. Half for the look of it, half for how happy you could be while talking about the worst parts of him. Like it didn’t matter that he wasn’t a good man. Like you enjoyed his company anyway. He couldn’t say how much that meant to him.
“Anyway,” you droned on, finishing the last of your beer. “Let’s go back. I’m tired.”
“You’re even whinier when you’re drunk,” he quipped, but he downed his beer too, even through the particularly hard hit you landed on his arm for that one.
He got up and motioned toward the door. “Lead the way then.” You shot him a mischievous look he wanted to kiss right off your mouth. But too quickly, you turned and nearly disappeared into the crowd, so for the second time, Arthur grabbed your hand to keep up with you. The warmth of it in his grasp filled him with whatever happiness he had left. Especially when you wound your fingers through his and led him on.
The two of you made it outside, and only then did you drop his hand, never bringing any attention to the fact that you held it in the first place. He wanted to grab yours again, keep it held in his all the way back. But, he realized, you were already walking, not looking back. He jogged to catch up. Then, like a fool, he debated threading his fingers through yours every step of the way back. He never quite found the courage.
It only hit Arthur that you were about to join him in this hotel bedroom, and that he very much didn’t want to sleep on the floor, when you stepped through its doorway. He watched you shed your coat and hat and boots, doing the same so as not to draw attention to the way his eyes caught on you. After he got his satchel and gun belt off, he turned to find you already curled up in the bed like a cat.
“You’re not sleeping on the floor again, are you?” you said through a yawn.
“My back may never recover,” he joked.
“Come up here then.”
You said it so simply—such an easy thing to agree to. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t resist doing it. So he lifted the sheets and laid down beside you, letting you curl around him in a way that had his heart pounding through his shirt. You laid your head right on it and yawned again. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
“That’s a relief. Let me know if it stops.”
You let out a laugh. A genuine, easy laugh that had Arthur wanting to turn your face to his and kiss you then and there. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The two of you were just lonely and drunk and had each other for company. That didn’t mean he could do something you may not want from him—something you didn’t understand. Not to mention how it would eat at him when he had to leave you so soon. So, he didn’t turn your face to his. He wrapped his arm around you instead and pulled you close, his head resting atop yours in a way that was so comforting it was almost worse.
“I’m glad you’re here, Arthur.”
Your voice was small, heavy with tiredness. And the words cut into him, because he was the one you wanted to help heal your loneliness. Of all people, him.
“I’m glad to be here, nameless.” He truly was.
After long enough that he thought you asleep, you whispered, “Not nameless.”
“What then?” He had never wanted to know a name so badly in all his life.
You just yawned again, curling against him. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Arthur smiled, looking forward, for the first time in a long time, to waking up.
_________
Chapter fourteen is here.
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heliads · 4 months
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because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!
'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov
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There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.
Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.
And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.
That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.
You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.
Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now:  curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.
You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.
And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.
Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.
You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream:  the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.
You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–
He was a prince.
Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.
The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.
Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.
You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.
The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.
So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.
No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed. 
A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.
You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?
It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.
However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.
“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.
She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”
She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”
The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.
You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens:  you feel better.
You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”
“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”
You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?
The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.
Almost.
The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.
The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.
Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.
Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”
You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.
It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.
You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.
The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.
Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.
Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.
Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.
You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.
“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.
Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.
You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.
“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.
Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”
A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”
“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”
“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.
“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”
You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.
“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”
This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”
The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”
He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”
You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”
Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”
You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”
Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”
You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small. 
Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.
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vemuabhi · 3 months
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Hello!! Do you mind doing Sanji with love language of quality time please? Have a lovely lovely day/night!!
(btw, I absolutely adore your blog, and I agree with so many things you’ve said about Sanji!!! Seriously I adore the way you think about Sanji <3 and actually, I’ve been holding this in since I first watched OP and I came across your post about your fav Sanji scenes, just never had the courage to tell you, not to mention I didn’t have tumblr account back then, but: I couldn’t have agreed more with you when you mentioned your feelings about Sanji and Pudding’s kiss. The only difference being that I knew I was already genuinely in love with him, so I felt it hit me quite strongly. And then I started making up all kinds of unrequited love angst scenarios in my head with him, where reader’s are unrequited. Though, I’m genuinely shocked by how similarly we think and simp for the man. I thought I was a crazy idiot until I saw your post. So thank you for sharing all your thoughts :))
Always a Priority
Hey love,
I am so so happy that you have read my favourite Sanji scenes work before and agree with that. I hope you have also read my fav Sanji outfits hehe. And yes, Sanji is someone who has captured my heat from a long while and I haven’t left him since. I am… a bit similar to Sanji when it comes to love. I adapt and make sure that my lover stays happy when they are with me. I… I haven’t been given a proper chance to make someone fall in love. It sucks that It’s always been me who falls in love fast, harder and deeper. So, maybe at some point I realised how Sanji would love his S/O and wondered how beautiful their life would be with him. He is Fictional. I know. I am aware of that. But, when real life just hurts continuously, I found a bit of relief in these fanfics. Getting way too personal here, aren’t I? Hehe, I hope you continue to read and enjoy my writings. Thanks for being here.
This is one of my pieces for the mini event. Please enjoy and let me know what you think about this. Please forgive any mistake, it isn't proofread.
Listen to Earned it by Weekend
Prompt taken from here.
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Quality Time
After a long shift of work, you noticed him on his bike outside your work, waiting to pick you up. Even though he was tired, he was everyday waiting for you. As if it was a medicine, your fatigue was gone after seeing him.
As it has been only 3 months since you have been going out, so this was the only time of day you both could meet. Sure, you both went on dates on the weekends but, he wanted to see you everyday just like you did. You sat behind him and hugged him, that was the only thing he wanted from you. Just to feel you beside him. Comfortable. Is how he wanted to make you feel.
You were grateful for him being there to take you home. Especially during the times when you told him to go home as it was getting late. Which was more of the reason he stayed to drop you. The smooth ride with him was all you wanted. Valued. It was what you felt with Sanji.
Before you met Sanji, he would go straight home after a long shift to just crash for the day, sometimes dropping his female colleagues or friends. Too tired to even eat after the day. While you would also go home. Thinking about your life choices. The mistakes you made.
Now, it was different. You both had something to look forward to everyday. Meeting each other even though the time you meet was less, it was all you needed to boost up your oxytocin levels. Everyday, after he dropped you, you made sure that make him eat with you at your house. Then he could go and crash at his place. If you let him go, he would be too tired to make himself something and would not eat. Well, he wouldn’t say no to you, especially since all you wanted was to him to be healthy. Not only he dropped you, he would always eat if he was with you. Always a Priority. For each other.
While he ate with you, he would never look at his phone. Unless if it was urgent call. You were so shocked at how you were being treated by this man before you. Your house was small, but it never felt so warm, like a home until he arrived. You were desperate for love and now, he pulled you out of it. Providing you with the love you never received.
Sanji on the other hand felt his home to be where you were. 3 months. How was his life before he met you, he didn’t want to experience it again. Longing for someone to love him, like he does. He would love to move in with you but, it would be too soon.
You noticed that Sanji was far more patient than you were. He would think a lot. You don’t even know how many times you were impressed by how calm he behaves in the most hectic situations. While Sanji loved how you don’t filter your words with him. Always honest. Straight to point. No mind games. No need to worry, because you’d say what you felt. Making it very easy to understand you.
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copyright © vemuabhi
Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!
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tswaney17 · 4 months
Text
I Do Bad Things with You - Part 43
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It's aliveeeeeee!!! 🙌 I can't even begin to describe how off my game I've been trying to write. I've had the entirety of IDBTWY written for months, but I honestly hated my writing, and editing was such a chore. I'm still not completely in love, but we need to push past so we can finally close this beast. I am slowly working through my creative drought, and hope to have some consistent content coming soon!
Also, credit to @123moiaussi for the "superseed" comment. 😉
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
Word Count: 6,187
Elain was sitting in the waiting room of the OBGYN office, knee bouncing nervously. This was her first-trimester check-up and she just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Her nausea had been pretty awful over the last few weeks and she had grown excessively tired—to the point that she had to talk with Thesan about reducing her surgical procedures so she could keep a clear head.
She hated having to do that, not wanting to disappoint her boss just after she reached her attending level earlier that year. But Thesan took it in stride, helping to arrange her schedule to fit what she was comfortable doing and ensuring she had time to take proper meal breaks and rest when she needed it. He rearranged schedules and let her take on leading the resident interns full-time, allowing her to take some of the stress off by guiding them through procedures and running the ER.
He had come into her hospital room after she collapsed to check on her, and she knew she couldn’t keep it from him after what had happened in the operating room. Her boss had been ecstatic, congratulating them both.
It had been about a month since they found out they were pregnant, and she was now sitting at around seven and a half weeks along. She and Azriel decided to keep the news to themselves until she reached week twelve, just to play it safe, and Elain wished she could say they had been successful in their endeavors. But, her boss knew, and Viviane knew. The Moonbeam twins found out two weeks ago when she and Fenrys had exited the elevator of their building and Connall’s breakfast sandwich sent her hurdling for the nearest trashcan. Fen had been quick to slide her hair back, holding it above her head as she heaved. Stepping off the elevator a few minutes later, a startled and confused Azriel took in the sight of Connall and then heard her retching. He instantly was at her side, taking her hair from Fenrys, and running his hand down her back.
“What is in that sandwich,” he demanded.
Blind-sighted, Con rambled out ingredients. “Bacon, cheese, spinach, and egg.”
Elain gagged at the word egg, her stomach violently rolling from the name. “Get rid of it,” she moaned, still leaning into the disgusting garbage.
The dark-haired twin had swallowed the remains of his meal in three large bites.
It took effort to push herself off the trash bin, falling into the comforting embrace of Az’s strong arms that he wrapped around her.
He cupped the side of her face, tucking her under his chin, and let her thumb swoop over the apple of her cheek, the touch gentle and soothing. “Do you want your tea,” he murmured, lips pressing into her hair.
Unable to voice it answer, she dipped her chin.
Fenrys was already on the ground before them, pulling her coffee mug from her bag that she dropped and handing it to Azriel.
Her husband brought the mug up to her lips and allowed her to sip, the peppermint hitting her stomach and calming the raging sea. His hazel eyes glanced at her, a question simmering in them, and read the answer she didn’t even need to speak. “Elain’s pregnant,” he told the twins. “It’s still very early and we’re trying to keep it close to the chest for now, but please don’t bring eggs anywhere near her.”
Her body shuddered at that damn word again, but she managed to gain enough strength to pull herself from Azriel’s arms as she faced the Moonbeam brothers. “Sorry about that,” she said and felt her husband tense as she apologized for being sick. He’d been wildly adamant that she not apologize for the nausea, the cravings, or anything else she needed of him or anyone else. Not after having a meltdown because he went and got her something she asked for, only to start craving something else when he was out and feeling utterly ridiculous about it.
Connall seemed to snap from his shock first. “Congratulations to you both. And I apologize for the sandwich. I won’t bring anything around that has—”
“Please don’t say the word or I might hurl again,” she interrupted, fingertips touching her mouth like she’d hold it back. Fuck, even just the name of it sent her body quaking from the queasiness.
Fen chuckled. “Noted. Is there anything else that sets you off we should be made aware of?”
She shook her head no. “Nothing else that I know of yet.”
He nodded, a charming smile spreading his lips. “Let us know if anything changes. And congratulations on the pregnancy. I’m so happy for you both.”
And she could see it, the joy radiating on both of their faces. It made her heart swell with love for the two men who would likely become Uncle Fen and Uncle Con to their child.
The door opening caught her attention, pulling her from her reverie, and she met the gaze of the nurse who’d come to collect her. Elain glanced back at the elevator, waiting for her husband to show up. He was running late—something that was so very unlike him, which only added to her anxiety. She returned her attention to the nurse. “Can you give him another couple of minutes?”
It wasn’t the first time she asked to delay her appointment and knew it couldn’t continue much longer.
The nurse—Maria as her name badge read—gave her a sad smile. “We really can’t delay much longer. There are a few appointments behind you.”
“Just a couple of minutes,” Elain practically begged.
Maria hedged, shuffling from foot to foot, uncomfortable by the request, but was saved from having to deny her by the elevator door sliding open and Azriel rushing out.
He was at her side instantly, taking her arm to help her stand as if she couldn’t do it herself. Elain had to remind him on occasion that she was not yet showing and could still move about the house without his assistance. ��I’m so sorry I’m late. There was an accident downtown and I got caught right in the middle of traffic. I’ll leave a half hour earlier next time.” He leaned down to brush his lips to her cheek.
His presence immediately calmed her and she leaned into his touch.
Azriel, always in tune with her feelings, didn’t miss how she settled into him as they followed the nurse back, his arm slinking around her waist so he could touch his mouth to her ear. “Are you all right?” he asked her. Nothing ever got by him.
She nodded but knew he hadn’t bought it. Still, he let it slide, caressing her arm in a soothing gesture. The nurse took all her vitals and then handed her a gown to change into before the doctor arrived. Az helped her slip it on, tying the strings together for her before assisting her onto the table.
“You’re nervous,” he commented now that they were alone.
Elain blew out a breath. “A bit.”
He swept his thumb over her cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know to be honest. Just want to make sure everything is growing healthy in there,” she said, patting her still-flat stomach. “No surprises.”
Az chuckled, kissing her temple. “I have no doubts that we have a healthy baby, love. Try not to fret.” His words seemed to calm her as she relaxed back onto the table.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of her doctor and she took a moment to introduce herself to her husband, shaking his hand.
“Okay, let’s get started. Elain, if you wouldn’t mind putting your feet into the stirrups.”
She took out the ultrasound wand, spreading lube on the tip, and Elain couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s confused face.
“All right, my dear. You should feel a little pressure,” her doctor said.
“I’m sorry, but I thought she was getting an ultrasound. What is that?” Azriel questioned.
Elain snorted lightly. “Az, it’s a transvaginal ultrasound. It goes inside, not on my belly.”
His eyes widened. “Well, the three baby books I’ve read didn’t discuss the differences in ultrasound types.”
Doctor Chen raised her brows. “You’ve read three baby books already?”
He shrugged. “I just like to be prepared.”
“You’re going to be a great father.”
The comment seemed to startle her husband. “Just because I’ve read a few books?”
Chen’s lips turned up at the corner. “Mr. Archeron-Knight, I can barely get most fathers to read one, let alone three. And before she’s even through the first trimester. Believe me when I say that I can tell who’s going to be well-adjusted to handling fatherhood.” Giving him a wink, she slipped the wand inside, making Elain’s grip on Azriel’s hand tighten slightly.
“All right, here we are,” Doctor Chen said, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard to bring up the monitor. A pitter-patter sound filled the air as she located the baby’s heartbeat.
Tears sprung into her eyes as that beautiful, perfect, innocent noise washed over her and she glanced up at her husband to see him sharing the same look as her. He leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips, the special moment between them growing with the touch of his mouth against hers.
“And here is your baby,” Chen announced, pointing to a little blip on the screen.
Elain’s dark gaze stared at that spot on the screen, feeling like her heart was about to burst with happiness. But when her eyes slid to her doctor, seeing the furrow in her brow, that joy dropped like a rock in her stomach.
Her doctor let out a small noise of contemplation, enough to catch Azriel’s attention. “What is it?” he asked, voice laced with demand and worry.
A few clicks on her keyboard had the screen adjusting, zooming out just slightly. She repositioned the wand inside of her, making her body tense. “Well, I think we should discuss multiple births. Because that right there,” she said, pointing to another blip on the screen, “is a second fetus.” She clicked a button again and two very distinct heartbeats surrounded them. Chen turned to look at them with a smile. “You’re having twins.”
If Elain thought her heart was racing before, it was absolutely pounding now, the sound rushing in her ears. Because there was just no way, no way, right? Twins? Twins! Her head swiveled to look up at her husband. “You and your fucking superseed!” she snarled.
“Elain!” Azriel chastised, looking torn between being guilty of impregnating her with two kids and amused about her foul language in front of the doctor. Mostly the latter.
Chen just laughed. “I’ve told many expecting parents they’re having twins over the years, but that was, by far, the best reaction I’ve ever seen.”
She had the decency to at least look embarrassed as she apologized to her doctor for her outburst, but she just waved her off.
After snapping a few pictures, she pulled the wand out, cleaned her up, and set the printed sonogram photos on the counter for them. “Everything looks good, Elain. You’re growing at an optimum level. I’ll go ahead and prescribe you some anti-nausea medicine that you can take in the morning and before bed for as long as you need it. Unless there are any concerns, you’re free to get dressed. The nurse at the front will schedule you for your next appointment.”
The door clicked shut softly behind her as she left and Elain felt the silence between her and Azriel like a weight on her chest.
He helped her sit up, but before she could slide off the table, he stepped in front of her, finger hooking under her chin to force her gaze to his. “Hey,” he said softly like he was afraid anything louder might startle her. “El, love, I know this is scary, but we can do this.”
“Twins, Azriel. Two kids. As in one whole being more than we even were planning for.”
His mouth quirked up at her zealous explanation. “I’m well aware of how twins work, baby.”
She glared at him for the comment.
But he ignored it, leaning down to capture her mouth in a sweet kiss. “Twins mean two beautiful children of our own. Twins mean twice the amount of love we will have. Twice the amount of joy they will be bringing into our lives. If there is anyone who can take on the challenge of having twins, it’s us. Don’t ever doubt that.”
His words settled inside of her, soothing the jagged worries of her heart into something perfectly beautiful. His confidence, his strength…it was exactly what she needed at that moment and he knew it.
Elain let out a heavy breath. “You’re changing all the diapers.”
He barked out a laugh, folding her into his arms. “I’m okay with that.”
~~~
They decided to wait until she reached the fifteen-week mark before they told their family the news. Azriel was ready to burst at week nine, but she managed to hold him off until now with just a little bit of persuasion.
A surprise to both of them was when Elain didn’t have her head in the toilet, she was horny as fuck. Azriel was running hard to keep up with her impressive sex drive. And that was saying something.
He reached out and took her hand across the center console, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Are you nervous?” he asked, bringing the back of her palm to his lips.
She glanced at him, a soft smile pulling at her mouth. “No. I’m excited. I want to tell everyone about them.” Her hand rubbed over her swollen belly. Swollen was probably the best way to describe her appearance. Truthfully, she looked like she indulged in a very large, carb-based meal of pasta and was extremely bloated from it. Which, to be fair, with Azriel’s amazing skills in the kitchen, it was a fair assessment.
Elain opened her purse and slipped out the sonogram she had a few days before. The one that told them what they were having. Her eyes welled up with tears as her fingers stroked the black-and-white image. She was so blissfully happy. “I’m glad that they’re healthy. That was all I cared about.”
Az kissed the backside of her palm again. “Me too. And I’m happy they’ll be close to Sutton’s age so they can grow up together.”
“Do you think Feyre and Rhys will start thinking about having kids?” she asked, curious if he thought their other siblings might be feeling a touch of the baby fever.
He shrugged. “If they weren’t talking about it before, I’d say they will be now. Rhys has been wanting kids since practically in high school. He always wanted to be a father; better than his, though he wasn’t anything compared to mine.” The words hung between them for a minute before he asked her, “Do you have concerns about me becoming my father?” His voice dropped to a near whisper. Almost as if he were afraid of her answer.
Elain looked at him in shock. “Azriel, gods no. I know exactly the kind of father you’ll be, and it will not even remotely look like what you were given.”
His lips quirked up at the corner. “Yeah? And what kind of a father do you think I’ll be?”
She twisted in her seat to face him better. “You’re going to be the most devoted father because you’re already the most devoted husband. You’ll dote on those kids until they never have a wish or dream unfulfilled. You will love them fiercely—I mean, you already do and they’re still in my stomach,” she giggled lightly, rubbing her belly. “They are going to be the most spoiled children.”
At that, he laughed. “I can’t say you’re wrong. I don’t think I will be able to say ‘no’ to them at all.”
“Azriel, you can’t even tell me no,” she deadpanned.
“It’s just not in my vocabulary when it comes to you.”
Elain shook her head, eyes rolling as she twisted back in her seat to face forward again. She could see the restaurant down the street where they were meeting their siblings for lunch to tell them the news. “Well, I’m not going to take on the mean parent role just because you can’t say no.” She fiddled with her purse, sliding the image back inside. “We may need to find an alternative—” Screeching tires caught her attention and then she screamed, “Azriel! Watch out!”
The car lurched, sending her head sideways to slam against the side window. The last thing she heard was shattering glass as another car collided with them before everything went dark.
~~~~~
Azriel’s eyes blinked open, ears ringing loud enough to make him wince. His body ached across his chest and waist from the seat belt and as he shifted himself, he could tell nothing was seriously injured. Thankfully. He looked over at his wife, fear locking his heart in a deadly force. “Elain,” he murmured, voice hoarse.
Her head lay against the back of the seat, lulled to the side. She had a gash on her forehead, blood dribbling down her temple, and most of her right arm was scratched up from the shattered glass.
He tried to unbuckle his belt, but the damn thing was stuck. Pulling the knife Ruhn had gotten him from his pocket, he cut the fabric, releasing him, then reached over and did the same to Elain’s belt. A scarred hand slid to her cheek, cupping it gently, and then moved down to her throat, searching for his worst nightmare.
The relief he felt when her heartbeat pattered against his fingertips was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. “Elain,” he tried again, moving his palm back to her face. “Elain, sweetheart, open your eyes for me.” His tone took on a desperate sound as he willed her to wake.
Movement caught his eye, the sound of tires crunching on glass flooded him and he looked out the window to see the car that hit them, pulling back and fleeing. “Motherfucker,” he cursed, realizing that this was an intended accident. He had managed to jerk the wheel so Elain didn’t take the brunt of the impact, but it still slammed into the back door, shattering all the windows on her side.
A burning rage built in his gut, one that could not—would not—be stifled without blood. Whoever ordered this hit…
They were as good as dead.
Azriel refocused on his wife, fingers sweeping over her skin. He shoved that wrath building inside of him down until it was a flickering ember, something for him to let rage once he knew she was okay. “Elain, come on. Open your eyes for me.” He gently tapped her cheek, trying to get her to look at him. “Please, love. I need you to open your eyes. Elain.”
A groan passed through her lips, sending tears of relief cascading over his cheeks as her eyelids began fluttering.
“El, baby,” he cried, swooping his thumb across her smooth skin. He collected the soft sounds coming from her parted lips like precious gems, thanking every god for each one.
“Az.” Her voice cracked on his name. “What happened?” she asked, still coming into consciousness.
He shuffled closer, leaning over the center console to kiss her temple with a gentleness he reserved only for her. “We were in an accident, love. I need you to stay still until help gets here.” He felt her pulse kick up under his palm.
Elain’s breathing turned short. “Azriel…” her voice shook in fear. “Az, the babies.”
His heart wrenched, hoping and praying that everything was all right. After all that they had been through, he didn’t think he could handle the world taking something else away from her. From them. But despite his fear, he remained calm, knowing she needed to as well. “Everything is going to be okay,” he promised. “I hear the sirens, love. Help is almost here.”
The words didn’t seem to abate her as she continued to shake. “Please,” she cried, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes and dribbling down her cheeks. “Check if I’m bleeding.”
Azriel knew she needed to know—would not breathe steadily until she did. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh, sliding up until he reached her panties. Feeling her for any sort of wetness. Any stickiness that would confirm to him there was blood.
She was dry.
There weren’t words to describe how thankful he felt for that confirmation. “No blood,” he told her, pulling his hand out from underneath her dress to show her his clean fingers.
Elain released a sob, her tense body relaxing slightly.
He shushed her, kissing her temple again. “You’re okay,” he murmured, wanting to do everything in his power to reassure her. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Two firetrucks pulling up snagged his attention, as he continued to stroke her cheek soothingly.
“Sir, are you both okay?” one of the responders asked as he approached his side of the car.
He glanced at the man. “We’re conscious but she needs to be looked at.”
The guy rapped his knuckles on the top of the car. “We’ll get you out in a second—”
“Her first,” he told him in a tone that brooked no room for argument.
Another firefighter moved towards his wife’s window. “Ma’am, can you tell me your name?” she asked.
“Elain,” his wife answered.
“Are you in any pain?”
“My head hurts a bit.” Those doe eyes looked at the other woman. “I’m pregnant.”
She turned her head and yelled, “Get me the jaws!” Looking back at Elain, she reached in and wrapped a C-collar around her neck. “How far along are you?”
“Fifteen weeks.”
A nod. “All right, Elain. We’ll have you out in a jiffy and get you over to the hospital to have your baby checked out.”
Neither of them bothered to correct her on the number of babies. It wasn’t relevant, only that they needed to get her out. Once the door was opened, they began moving her onto a backboard. Azriel wrenched the driver’s side open, wanting to get to her as quickly as possible.
“Sir! You need to be checked by the paramedic,” somebody called out but he ignored them, rounding the vehicle to where Elain was being placed on a stretcher. Just before he reached her, another voice called his name—one he couldn’t ignore. He turned, finding Cassian running over to him, flashing a badge to one of the firefighters to get past him. Rhys, Feyre, and Nesta stood just beyond the scene at their cars, all watching his wife being checked out.
“What the hell happened?” Cassian demanded, eyes flitting over to where Elain was being hauled towards an ambulance.
“Hit and run. Fucker took off after T-boning us,” he snarled, tone murderous. They would not get away with this. Not with his pregnant wife in the car with him. Az glanced up and saw the street cameras, angled just right to have caught the entire accident. “Cash, get me the film from that camera,” he indicated with a nod of his head before swiveling on his feet and prowling toward his wife.
Cassian kept stride with him, took in the responders on the scene, and lowered his voice to not be overheard. “Az, the police will investigate. Just let them do their job.”
Azriel whirled on his brother. “You either get me that tape, Cassian, or I’ll get it my way. Either option, I will find out who did this to her.” There was no arguing when he stepped into this role. This wasn’t a brother asking for a favor. This was the head of the Velaris Mob Boss demanding it.
His voice turned deadly, taking on the dangerous threat he used to get what he wanted.
When it looked like his brother was about to argue, the female firefighter shouted, “Victim is fifteen weeks pregnant. She needs to be checked out by a doctor.”
Elain called Az’s name and he turned, striding towards her but not before he caught how Cassian’s face paled. Or the shocked looks from their siblings. Well, that’s one way to find out, he thought to himself as he reached his wife’s side and took her hand.
She clutched his fingers, her face still scrunched with worry. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, placing a kiss on her forehead before they loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Az climbed in after, sitting down on the bench and gripping her hand once more. He glanced back out the door and found Cassian standing there.
“I’ll get you that tape,” he said quietly; fierce determination blazed in his hazel eyes to help his brother wreak havoc over the person who went after his pregnant wife. Only Cassian could understand the fear of something like this, having already gone through a pregnancy with Nesta. Without another word, he shut the doors to the ambulance.
Elain looked up at him, his name falling from her lips. He brushed a thumb over her forehead. “Everything is going to be fine, love. Just try to relax.” It was empty words, they knew that. Knew neither of them would settle until they heard both of those heartbeats on a monitor.
He just hoped he was holding it together enough for her until they could confirm she was still pregnant.
And may God have mercy on the fucker who caused this, if she wasn’t.
~~~
They ushered Elain into a private room, hooking her up to a fetal monitor. The doctor moved quickly, shoving her dress up to reveal her bare stomach while a nurse covered her hips with a blanket.
She flinched slightly when the cold gel was applied to her skin and Azriel brought her fingers to his lips, kissing her across the backside of her knuckles.
It was like the world held its breath as they searched for those two heartbeats.
“Baby number one looks good,” the doctor said, clicking a button and sending the hummingbird’s wing pattern of a heartbeat into the room.
Elain squeezed his hand, a soft sound passing between her lips in relief.  
The wand moved on her belly, searching for their other little one. “And, there they are. Hiding behind their sibling.”
When the second heartbeat reached their ears, Elain twisted, sobbing into Az’s chest with utter joy. He wasn’t very far behind her, letting tears of relief slip from his eyes as he cradled her against his torso. His hand rubbed her shoulder, lips pressing to the crown of her head, offering comfort to her through his presence and touch.
The doctor cleaned her off, smiling at the two of them. “Everything looks good on the monitor,” she started after giving them a moment. “We’ll keep you here for another hour or so just to be safe before we discharge you. If you have any bleeding in the next few days, come in right away.”
Elain seemed unable to answer, so he did it for her. “We will, thank you, doctor.”
“There also appears to be a group of people waiting for you guys in the lobby. Would you like me to send them in or give them a message?”
He crouched, putting himself at her eye level, wanting Elain to make the decision. Az cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away the tears under her eyes. “Love, do you want to see the family now?” he asked, voice low.
She sniffed, eyes still flooded with silver. The subtle shake of her head told him she wasn’t quite ready for the company yet.
Azriel rose, perching himself on the edge of her bed, and tucked her back into his chest. “Can you tell them that we’re okay, and I’ll come to get them when we’re ready for visitors?”
“Of course. Page the nurse if you need anything.” Without another word, she slipped from the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Elain fisted his shirt, taking in his cedar and mist scent deep into her lungs. He gave her whatever time she needed, letting her get herself together. “I was so scared,” she whispered, burying her face further into his embrace.
Azriel was grateful that she seemed to find comfort in him, in his touch, his scent. He held her tighter against him, murmuring, “Me too.”
She held onto him for a few more precious moments before pulling back to look up at his face. “I didn’t see the other car when they pulled me out.” Her brows furrowed as she tried to put the pieces together. “Were we in a hit and run?”
“Yes,” he said, brushing his thumb back and forth over her cheek.
Her eyes flicked between his. “Do you think we were targeted?”
He wouldn’t lie to her—refused to, but also didn’t want her to be even more frightened than she already was. “I do.” Az saw that kid look directly at him, his eyes widening in understanding that he was, in fact, not dead, before taking off from the scene. He didn’t recognize him, but if he had to place a bet, he’d say it was one of Frankie’s lower levels who crossed to Elias’s side.
Az didn’t think either of his brothers would call a hit like that. Middle of the day, busy street. It wasn’t their style. But Elias was careless, greedy, and a poor decision-maker. He sighed, brushing his lips to her forehead. “The kid looked me dead in the eye before leaving. He was scared that I was still alive.”
“How old do you think he was?” Elain asked.
“I’d say we have at least a decade on him. Seventeen, maybe eighteen.”
“So, just a kid then.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You say that like it’s excusable.”
She shook her head. “I’m not excusing what he did, but we both know how young kids are trapped into joining those gangs. Through manipulation and fear. There’s a reason you won’t allow anyone that young to be brought in, Az, and you know it. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to question if it was his idea or he was put up to it.”
His lips quirked up as she spoke like a true Mob queen. “If you had to guess who would put him up to it—”
“Elias, no doubt. We both know he’s been itching to strike at us since he showed up at the hospital. And you said he was trying to recruit kids from Frankie. Perhaps he offered this kid a way out from under Illyrian rule.”
“There is only one way out from Frankie’s Mob,” he told her, letting the words hang heavily between them.
Elain let out a deep breath. “I know. Either way, he’s dead. Elias is likely to kill him for failing, or Frankie and Nick will for attempting to leave.”
It floored him to just how similar her train of thought was to his. She observed and listened and picked up on every single thread laid down. Understood all of the connections and bloodshed as if she’d been a part of it her whole life. He couldn’t say that the revelation was thrilling, but it also made his chest ache. Az never wanted her to be so in tune with his world. Didn’t want her to have to think about the worst-case scenarios and determine ways around them. But here she was, doing just that and not shying away from it.
To think he couldn’t love her any more than he already did.
“I have to agree with your assessment. Elias will not get away with this; with what he’s done to you.”
She didn’t balk at the threat in his tone, simply took his hand in hers and squeezed. “Despite what he’s done, is going after him the best idea? Things could escalate.”
“We can’t let this go without repercussions, love. Others will hear about this and wait to see how I respond. If it’s not a show of force, they’ll think I’ve gone lax and more will come. I need to be aggressive with my actions.”
It looked like she wanted to argue some more, but decided against it, bringing his hand up to her mouth to kiss his scars. “Do you want to go get the others now? I’m ready to see them.”
He smiled down at her, cupping her cheek one more time. “I’ll be right back.” Az pressed his lips to her forehead before he slipped from the room, knowing that that conversation was far from over. But he’d let it go for now. She had been through enough today without him pushing her on it. But this was one thing he would not, could not budge on. Not if he didn’t want to keep her safe. Especially now with their growing family.
Azriel wasn’t even to the edge of the lobby when Nesta shot out of her chair.
“Is she all right?” his sister asked, face drawn with worry.
His eyes glanced to Cassian behind her, cradling a sleeping Sutton in his large arm, Feyre and Rhys next to him. “She’s fine,” he told them, sensing their relief. “They want to keep her here another hour or so, just to be safe, but you guys are welcome to come back with me if you’d like.”
“Does she want company?” Feyre asked, edging to her eldest sister’s side. “We don’t want to intrude—”
“She asked for you all. No intrusion,” Az interrupted her.
Cassian swallowed, his eyes looking down at the small thing in the crook of his elbow. “You know we all heard the firefighter…is the baby okay?”
He had a feeling one of them would ask, but he wanted to make sure Elain was present for it. So, he said instead, “Everyone is fine. We can talk more in her room.” Turning on his heel, he headed back toward Elain’s private room, knowing they’d follow him closely.
Opening the door, he caught Elain looking intently out the window, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. “Love,” he called out to her, making her snap out of her reverie and turn to face him. “Our siblings are here.”
Her smile lit up his entire chest, despite the current circumstances. Gods, she was radiant when she smiled at him like that.
He held the door open, letting their family shuffle in. Nesta and Feyre made a beeline right to either side of her, gripping her in a firm hug.
“Are you all right?” Nesta asked again, cupping her cheeks in her palms.
Elain laughed slightly. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her eyes landed on his at the foot of her bed and he nodded at her, answering her silent question. One small hand swept down over the slight swell of her belly. “We’re all fine,” she added, a bit more shyly.
“I can’t believe you two are pregnant already,” Rhys stated, resting a palm on her lower leg.
Az laughed. “Strong swimmers,” he boasted.
“Asshole,” Cassian muttered. It wasn’t a secret that he and Nesta had struggled a bit to get pregnant. His wife was, apparently, just incredibly fertile.
Elain just shook her head, eyes rolling at the exchange.
“How far along are you?” Feyre asked, interrupting what she knew was going to be another ridiculous argument.
“Fifteen weeks. Or just over,” she answered.
Nesta blinked in surprise. “Do you know what you’re having?”
Her lips quirked up in the corner as she eyed him. “A boy.”
Their family erupted into congratulatory shouts for them both, grabbing them into hugs. Az waited until they quieted down before announcing, “And a girl.”
All four heads swiveled to him.
Silence descended upon their family for a few tense moments before Rhys finally demanded, “Explain!”
“We’re having a boy and a girl.”
He could see the lightbulbs going off above their heads. It was rather humorous to watch them connect the dots.
“You’re having twins?” Cassian breathed, eyes wide as saucers.
Elain chuckled at their expense. “Yes, my husband infested me with his superseed for two babies.”
Azriel barked out a laugh. “You’re one to talk miss fertile as fuck.”
Their family erupted into a fit of hysterics at the exchange and that brought the largest smile to his face. Elain caught his grin, offering him one of her own. Fuck, he loved her so damn much and he couldn’t wait to have his two little ones welcomed into such a loving family.
He still had to handle Elias, still needed to confirm who else was involved in the hit on them, but he pushed that aside and focused on this moment with his pregnant wife and their siblings. Az would get his revenge…just not today.
~~~~~
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khruschevshoe · 6 months
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Jim and Oluwande got the worst end of the deal. I'd even say they regressed as both characters and partners and anything they had built up in s1 was almost completely stripped away from them. The way they're portrayed together and apart in s2 is not only unlike the characters we saw in s1, but their rich storyline was reduced to extreme side characters used only as plot devices in a way they absolutely did not have to be used. I LOVED them in s1, and I was so disappointed by what s2 did to them and their potential growth, which I think applies to pretty much everything in s2, not only them.
Mind if I piggyback of this ask to go into all my critiques of the handling of Jim/Olu in Season 2? Thanks!
OFMD Critique: Tealoranges, Dropped Storylines, and Wasted Potential
God, the issues I have with the writing of Season 2 extend in so many directions. Jim's character, I felt, was well-handled for at least the first two episodes but then slowly starts skewing wrong as early as episode 3 (I am still chewing glass over the way their reunion scene with Oluwande was written- or, rather, NOT written). Episode 4 was good, but everything after that? Someone said that Jim in the back half of the season feels more like Vico than Jim, and though I do love and appreciate Vico, it's completely true. Jim doesn't feel like the same character we've come to know, whether from Season 1 or even what is set up in early season 2.
And yet, I STILL feel like they're written better than Olu, if you can believe it? So, I haven't talked about this much, but I feel like Olu is done dirty from almost the moment he is introduced in Season 2. At least Jim (through editing alone, but hey, we'll give the show the smallest benefit of the doubt) gets an acknowledgement that they miss Olu during that flashback sequences while they talk to Archie- Olu doesn't even get that. I read about a deleted scene that would have had Pete and Olu desperate to reunite with Lucius and Jim in episode 1 and I feel like that was DESPERATELY needed to make the Season 1 finale -> Season 2 jump make any sort of sense. I like Zheng, but for the love of God, her romance with Olu (which I had my own issues with for the disservice it does both their characters) is not worth destroying the tealoranges build up from Season 1. Just cut something from the first episode or one of the Zheng/Olu scenes from the second episode to make it make sense.
Then, moving onto later in the season- I've posted about how Olu and Jim deserved the grand, epic reunion otherwise 1x10 and everything set up with them in Season 1 doesn't make sense. Could the writers of the show have possibly redistributed some of the glorious cinematography from Ed and Stede over to Jim and Olu? All I need is one shot of their reunion (a proper, emotional one, not played for laughs or friendship or whatever) framed by the sun to parallel Ed and Stede's being framed by the moon and I would have been happy on that front.
And then later in the season...I was down for the poly elements if they could have been executed better. Fanfics have shown that the Archie plot could have been executed well. But the fact that Zheng is straight up NOT MENTIONED until 2x7 by Olu? And then Jim says that he's been pining for her the whole time? I'm sorry, but it doesn't compute. Show, don't tell. There's a reason why I'm down for Jim/Archie/Olu (if executed well), but can't see Zheng/Olu at all.
But of course, 2x7 comes along and we get the "family who fucked" line. And the implication that Olu could have ever left the Revenge without Jim, when in Season 1 he became a wreck because Jim left for A FEW DAYS, much less was FORCEFULLY SEPARATED from him for MONTHS. Then in the finale, at the lupete wedding, they were separated out, him with Zheng and them with Archie, and, well, at that point...I was tired. I'm not gonna lie. Because this wasn't questionable or problematic writing, it just fundamentally DIDN'T MAKE SENSE.
And this is just on a romantic relationship POV. I hated seeing Olu lose his leadership arc from Season 1 and his loyalty to Jim and his nuanced emotional level-headedness/sense of logic. Season 1 really felt like it was slowly building up the idea that the ideal Captain was neither Stede nor Blackbeard but someone a bit more rational, a bit more grounded, a bit more communicative with his crew- someone like Olu. And he gets shoved into the back in Season 2 and reduced to the guy who can't sort scrolls or know that the BOATS ON A MAP MATTER. He gets no influence on plot or major decisions when he was often the voice of reason in Season 1 (we all remember Lucius being a romantic voice of reason in Season 1, but rarely remember that Olu was a major supporting deciding factor in a number of decisions made on the Revenge).
And as for Jim, I wanted more exploration or even just acknowledgement of their trauma post episode-4. I wanted an actual organic continuation of their character arc post-vengeance quest and post-Blackbeard, not just them getting defined by "funny knife thrower with a girlfriend and an ex-boyfriend who they want to get with his crush." They were so much more than that, and it killed me to see the two people who were basically main character 3 and 4 in Season 1 get shoved aside for unneeded subplots about Ricky and Zheng or Gentlebeard's three separate breakups when Jim and Olu's plotline had so much more potential than any of that. They weren't just star-crossed lovers- they were a slow burn ship built of absolutely interesting, complicated, and well-developed characters who brought out the best in each other with a DEVASTATING midpoint to their arc and it honestly would have made a better season not just for them as characters, but for the show overall if someone had just realized that the parallels between a couple that fights and claws to stay together no matter what (tealoranges) and a main ship that was still figuring itself out (Gentlebeard) would have SLAPPED.
(I am now picturing a version of this season where instead of the Izzy fakeout death/Gentlebeard reunion in the beginning of the first episode, we get an Olu/Jim reunion in episode 3 to parallel whatever reunion the writers wanted to slap together for Stede/Ed. I would have actively cried over the Olu/Jim reunion and it would have drastically improved the season.)
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Text
Hello Questies!!
This post has been a long time coming, and here it finally is. Willow, and more importantly, the Willow Fandom, changed my life, so, thank you all for everything!
Now Presenting…
How to Get a Girlfriend by Watching Willow 2022:
Step 1. See gif of Kit on top of Jade when she was saying goodbye like on Pinterest.
Step 2. Figure out the name of the show with the hot girls.
Step 3. Rewatch the original Willow.
Step 4. Watch Willow 2022
Step 5. Realize that the feelings about other women that you have been suppressing since you were 17 are coming back to bite you in the ass.
Step 6. Reject compulsory heterosexuality.
Step 7. Call your best friend in a panic.
Step 8. Try for weeks to try to get anyone you know to watch Willow. Fail.
Step 9. Sign back into an old tumblr account and start following people just as obsessed as you are.
Step 10. Read horny fanfic. A LOT of hot horny fanfic.
Step 11. Get your best friend so fed up with you that she invited you to an LGBTQIA+ friendly community event more than an hour away just so she doesn’t have to be the only person hearing about Willow anymore.
Step 12. Make lifelong friends!!
Step 13. After several months of trying to convince people to watch Willow literally steal the TV hookup and force people to watch it.
Step 14. Share the link to the Free Willow website in the Facebook group chat so everyone can watch more episodes.
Step 15. Get private Facebook message from girl wanting to talk about Willow.
Step 16. Make friends with said girl and get a huge crush.
Step 17. Start hanging out outside of group events.
Step 18. Be awkward.
Step 19. Continue to be awkward for several months until one half of the friend group pulls you aside, and one half pulls her aside and endure an intervention.
Step 20. Ask girl on date. (She says yes!!)
Step 21. Go on date and realize that despite the fact that there are over 12 years of university between the two of you, that you both read dozens of the same articles on Reddit and Quora about how to act on a first date, since neither of you have had one before.
Step 22. Get mutually pissed off at the lack of official peer reviewed research on how to have a healthy relationship. Decide to work on writing and publishing together. (So far, the only thing actually peer reviewed is our relationship, which only started due to peer review.)
Step 23. Make plans for more dates.
Step 24. Be happy!!!
Step 25. Realize that communication is hard and misunderstandings suck after reading more horny Willow fanfic.
Step 26. Write 5 page love letter in proper MLA Epistle format and give to girl.
Step 27. Become official girlfriends!
Step 28. Receive photos of her extensive collection of swords and blades.
Step 28b. Implode. (Like seriously. It was SO hot.)
Step 29. After being girlfriends for two months, bring up Willow again and find out that she doesn’t actually care that much about Willow?!?!?!!!! She likes it but was mostly using it as an excuse to talk to you?!?
Step 30. Consider breaking up with girl (not really!!) because she isn’t actually as obsessed with Willow as you are.
Step 31. Decide to share your gratitude with the ongoing Willow fandom for changing your life instead of worrying about making everyone in your life love it as much as you do. 😂
————
Thanks to the creators who helped me work through the emotions of steps 5 and 6 and those who helped with steps 10 and 25. @ksfreckles @geek-and-nina @ourlonelymoon @commanderbuffy @acre-of-wheat @wigster07 @vetiverriver @barmaid-anon @swashbucklery @spybrarian @isabrella @lowkeyed1 @savewillow2022 and so many others!
While I’m at it: Thanks to @ourlonelymoon for reminding me I don’t have to earn help, @acre-of-wheat for helping me remember that being on the spectrum doesn’t make me unloveable (and for reminding me that letter writing is valid communication) @commanderbuffy for proving that love isn’t just for teenagers, @wigster07 for showing second chances and that character growth requires tons of hard work @geek-and-nina for perfectly portraying the emotions and joy of falling in love, and @ksfreckles for being the first person I talked to online and for writing the story that means everything to me.
Thank you Willow Fandom and Willow Creators! I do not know where I would be today if it wasn’t for my lovely, Willow-obsessed online community. 💕 ⚔️ 😉
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 1 year
Text
You matter♡
Brooo this is so much self projection rn💀💀 but I needed a soft fanfic like this, so why not write it myself😆🙏🏾
Warnings: fem!reader, black reader, mention of depression, hurt to comfort, y/n is basically dating the 4 main clones, Zohakuten and y/n have a sibling platonic love, pure fluff, humor(?)
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Aizetsu is the first to be there for you during these times and understand how you feel. The others didn't bother trying to get you out of bed since you didn't want to, but Aizetsu couldn't just leave you alone. Despite him being sorrow and making everything depressing himself, it saddened him to see you like this and wanted to stay by your side even if it's just him.
"I know it's hard, but please eat something...it makes me sad when you don't eat the right meals a human is supposed to have." Aizetsu rubs your back, holding a plate in his hand. "Look, I managed to get your favorite snack. plantain, right? I had a human make it, " he said with a soft smile.
You turned your head and smiled lightly. "You're so sweet, thank you... can I eat later? I just don't have the energy. " You turn your head back and curled up under for blanket more. Aizetsu puts the plate of food on your nightstand and turns off the light, continuing to rub your back. "I'm going to stay with you until you eat... you haven't eaten all day. " Aizetsu's voice shakes, becoming more worried.
"I'm sorry, I'm trying," your voice breaks, covering your face. "I know y/n." Aizetsu comes underneath the covers to spoon you, holding you in his arms.
For once, Sekido actually takes note of what Aizetsu says when you're in this state. He thinks it's best to leave you alone and let Aizetsu handle it, but it angered him, knowing your feeling comfort with only him when it should be the other way around. Sekido cares about you just as much as the others even if he's always angered, but this time, he needed to do his part in taking care of you in this mental state.
Sekido walks up the stairs, almost stomping, and flew open the door, letting the hallway light shine in your room. He growls and rips the blanket off you and Aizetsu, even going as far as to grab Aizetsu by his arm to pull him away from you. "Fuck off now. Clearly, your way isn't working, so let me handle things, " Sekido said, making Aizetsu sulk.
"Get up," Sekido said, standing at the edge of your bed. Your eye lids felt heavy, the energy to keep them open was too much but you took a moment to turn back to Sekido, looking at him emotionless and not saying a word, not even getting up like he said.
"You mustn't get mad at y/n. She's trying" Aizetsu softly spoke only making Sekido groan in frustration. Sekido took a breath before placing his knee on your bed to grab you, picking you up from the bed and into his arms "not only haven't you eaten you also haven't took a bath in three days and washed your hair. Your curls need to be taken care of and you know that" Sekido said, carrying you to the bathroom.
"That's also not enough food for her to eat, Aizetsu!" He said while walking. "Karaku! Urogi! Go make that food y/n likes and do it now!" He yelled, and they yelled back from downstairs"yes sir!!".
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In order to make sure you took a proper bath, Sekido went in with you. He's at his softest when he's alone with you and more affectionate. In the shower, no words were spoken, only the sounds of him scrubbing your body clean and his hands going to work to wash your hair. "When we're done here, I'm braiding your hair back," he said, and you only nodded your head.
After the bath and hair treatment, Sekido braids your hair. "You know I get mad when you don't take care of yourself." he looks at you in the mirror, but you look back at him in the mirror, not speaking. "You look much better now. After taking a bath and your hair looking much better. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be in that bed not caring about your physical health and appearance. " Sekido scolds you.
"I know," you gulp, trying to hold back tears. "After this, you're eating. I don't want to hear any excuses, " he said, and you nodded with tears filling your waterline. His love is tough, but you couldn't help but you couldn't hold the tears back, feeling like you're worth something knowing he's going this far for you instead of leaving you be.
Sekido finished braiding your hair and watches when your face falls into your palms to hide your crying. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and placed his hand in your cheek, making your head rest on his hip. "You're beautiful. It's going to be fine, so stop the crying. It pissed me off to include the others, but we are here to take care of you. You're our favorite human, after all, so be proud of that, " he said, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone.
Once you and Sekido came out of the bathroom, Aizetsu was sitting on the floor outside with tears and your bonnet in his hand. He quickly got up and hugged you. "i heard you crying in there," he said and cups your cheek with tears rolling down his face. "How sad. Dont worry, my love, it's going to be ok, " he said about to give you a kiss, but Sekido puts his entire hand on his face, shoving him back, almost breaking the wall.
"Fuck off!" He said, stomping to Aizetsu with his teeth clenched in anger and ripping your bonnet from his hand. Sekido took a deep breath and headed back to you and then put your bonnet on your head himself and grabbed your hand to take you down stairs "but what about Aizetsu?" Yku look back worried. "Get up and get the fuck down here!" Sekido yelled.
"Y/n! You're out the bath!" Urogi cheerfully said with a big grin, pushing Sekido out the way to hug you. "Just in time. We made your favorite food. " Karaku came to you, almost skipping and hugging you on the other side. You felt Sekido about to lose his mind but only turned his back towards them.
You smiled and closed your eyes in their hug, but you couldn't help your face from screwing up when you smelled what they were cooking for you. "Um... what did you guys make exactly? " you said. By this time, Aizetsu came down the steps and looked at Urogi and Karaku, just as curious as you.
"We told you. We made your favorite food!" Urogi said and randomly licked your cheek, making you eek out. "We made two separate dishes, so show yours first, Urogi. Gotta save the best for last, " Karaku said, grinning at his own words. "It's kinda werid looking, but I guess that's just human food!" Urogi brought the pot of food showing you what he cooked.
You gagged and quickly covered your mouth and nose. "What is that!?" You said, and Aizetsu pulling you back from the pot Urogi is holding to your face. "I think it's called soup!. I made it a few days ago but turned like this. Do you like it?" Urogi giggled, having a genuine smile on his face, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him it's gone bad, but you also couldn't eat it.
Sekido snarls, looking at the pot of "food," and was glad Karaku pushed Urogi out the way. "Ok, Urogi showed you what he cooked now. Look at what I cooked for you." Karaku opens the oven and pulls out a tray only for you to squeal from what he made. "You said you like chicken and seafood. So why not columbine it?" Karaku snickers.
At this point, Sekido grabs your shoulder, taking a big step back with Aizetsu to take you away from the fold. "Um, Karaku... did you clean it? Or season it?" You asked softly."I was supposed to clean it? I just skinned the chicken alive and then threw it in the oven, " he said, which made you even more scared of the food.
"Enough! You idiots had one job! ONE JOB!" Sekido yells, grabbing both their faces with their hands. Karaku and Urogi try to fight back as the three argue and scream over what to feed you. "I hate yelling.." Aizetsu said and gently grabs your shoulders. "If the yelling is too much, we can just go back upstairs... the food i have for you is still there"
Your eyes light up from the site. Aizetsu looked at you curiously when you giggled, and then your giggle turned into a full laugh, making the demons stop their arguing to look at you. "Thank you, Urogi and Karaku. I can't eat this since it would probably unset my stomach, but I'm glad you did this for me," you smiled, making Karaku and Urogi stare at you in awe.
The front door handle twists, and you, as well as the other clones, turn your head when the floor opens. "I'm home." Zohakuten said, coming in the house holding a bag in his arms. "Were have you been you damned brat. I can't take my eye off you for a second. What's that in the bag anyway?" Sekido asked.
"Well, y/n wasn't eating because she's upset, right?" Zohakuten didn't understand the situation as much as the others did. He never experienced depression but all he could comprehend is what you're not doing ok and his favorite human, whom he saw as his big sister needed some help.
You held back a giggle as you watched the small demon child hold the bag carefully and jump on the chair to place to bag on the table and carefully take out the food. "When I heard Urogi and Karaku were making y/n food, I hated the idea of y/n dying, so" he said, placing the sushi and a bottle of alcohol for you on the table for you "I got what I needed from some village" he said implying he threatened them.
"WHAT!? Say that again you little fucker! And why do you have alcohol for y/n!?" Karaku yelled. Zohakuten raised his eye brow "is this not soda?" He shakes the bottle, showing the bubbles forming through the glass. You chuckle and shake your head at his innocent thought.
"My cooking wouldn't have killed her! You probably picked your damn nose and put it in the sushi because kids do that nasty shit! That's gonna make her sick!" Urogi yelled, even making an angry bird sound.
"Nice, come back," Zohakuten sarcastically said and jumped down from the chair. "Every living this needs to eat. Especially humans I hate when humans can't follow those simple rules," Zohakuten looks at you and points to the chair indicating you should sit and eat.
"Thank you so much guys". You hugged Aizetsu again, and he hugged you back tightly. Then you hug Sekido, who wanted to push you off him for showing this affection in front of his brothers, but he just hugs you back.
"Me next!" Karaku skips to you happily and picks you up and hugging you tightly and spinned you around. Karaku put you down for Urogi to hug you. Urogi rubs his cheek on yours happily with his arms and wings wrapped around you into the hug.
"I feel a little better knowing I have this support." You were free from Urogi's hug. "Depression isn't easy, but at least you're up out of bed now," Aizetsu said with a soft smile on his face. You nodded your head and then sat on the chair. "And thank you, Zohakuten, for bringing me this delicious food." You smiled and tapped your lap with both hands.
Zohakuten's eyes light up and become more round and soft and couldn't help himself from running to sit on your lap. You pet his head and smiled "Unfortunately, this isn't juice, but I will save this for later. So thank you, " you gave Zohakuten a hug. You felt a cold sensation and turned to the 4 demons clones, looking angry.
"Um... what's wrong!?" You asked in fear for your life. "Why does he get this treatment?" Sekido growls in anger, almost referring to Zohakuten like a slur. "I wanna sit in your lap, too. That's not fair," Karaku said. "Me too.." Aizetsu softly spoke, agreeing with Karaku.
"You're much bigger than I am... and Zohakuten is just a child. It's easier for me to carry him. " You tried to explain, but Urogi only flaps his wings hard to blow your Bonnet off. "Stop that! You're so petty, Urogi!" You yelled until he stopped flapping his wings.
"Humph," Zohakuten crossed his arms and looked at his brothers. "Because I'm special. That's why i get to sit here" He said
"You're not," his older brothers said at once in annoyance.
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sm0lprism · 4 months
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Bite-Sized (4) - A BG3 G/t fanfic
This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!
Read on ao3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Summary: Astarion, still persistently hungry, stalks off into the forest after feeling his control slip around Ria and the rest of his companions. Now, alone with his thoughts, he can't seem to shake the little borrower out of his brain.
Pairing: Astarion x borrower!oc (Tav) (slow-burn, Astarion is a complete ass but eventually comes round in future chapters)
Warnings: V*re mention, gore, mouthplay, fearplay, blood, swearing/course language, blood drinking, Astarion is a real asshole to little people/borrowers and doesn’t see them as people so be prepared for him being awful. Word count: 3.2k
The only feeling that was present in Astarion’s mind was the constant gnawing emptiness of his stomach. Hissing out a growl of frustration, he trudged through the undergrowth of the forest until he could no longer smell the others at the camp. He had used every shred of his willpower not to turn the camp into a bloody massacre right then and there. But he knew for a fact that if he wanted to rid himself of the mind flayer parasite in his brain, eating everyone at the camp was not the smartest move, as tempting as it was, it wouldn’t do him any favours. He glanced down at his hands and noticed that his left hand was shaking uncontrollably – a strong sign that he was in a desperate need of blood, if that wasn’t obvious enough already. He gripped his shaking hand with his right one to stop the jagged movement, but it didn’t do much to help.
The only other time when he had been this close to starvation was his time serving under his old master, Cazador. Granted, it wasn’t that bad yet, but it wouldn’t take much longer for him to reach that same state if he didn’t feed on something soon. He grimaced as he remembered how he felt back then, so hungry that he had lost control of every rational thought, adamant on biting anything with a pulse. Any trace of the elf that he used to be was gone, replaced with the uncontrollable thirst for blood. The only thing his vampire master had allowed him to feed on were rats and bugs – just enough to keep him alive and nothing more. He clenched his teeth in frustration. Now, after finally becoming free from the clutches of his vampiric master, he had free reign to bite whoever he wanted. He wasn’t shackled by Cazador’s rules and punishments anymore. But his newfound companions weren’t all that happy about him snacking on sentient creatures – which he couldn’t exactly fault them to, of course, especially when it came to humans and elves.
Except for him not being able to feed on lesser creatures – that made him upset.
Halflings, goblins, dwarves, gnomes, and now even borrowers were off the menu for him. His mind flickered back to the previous night when he had briefly tasted Ria’s blood. It had only been a mere few drops, but it had been enough to give him a taste – and she had tasted divine. His stomach clenched at the mere thought. It had only been a small taste, but it had just been enough to make him crave more. If Gale hadn’t interrupted, she would’ve been the perfect snack to give him just enough energy to hunt down a proper meal. He had never eaten a borrower before – in fact, he wasn’t sure if Cazador would’ve even permitted him to eat them if he was still under his master’s control.
Most likely not, Cazador would never allow me to eat something so delicious.
His mind darted back to Ria and how she had stood up to him that morning. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips at how she had pulled the middle finger at him and yelled right in his face. He couldn’t help but to admire her bravery, as stupid as it was, it was impressive that she even had the guts to do it to begin with given their obvious size differences. Admittedly, he had been very rude to her this morning – but being severely hungry often made him extra snappy. Not that he was particularly worried about whether he hurt the feelings of a borrower, though. They were lesser than gnomes, for gods’ sake.
Shaking his head, he attempted to distract his mind from the persistent hunger growling in his gut. It wasn’t doing him any good dwelling on Ria when he was starving. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too long until Gale and the others returned. Nostrils flared, he immediately picked up the scent of a nearby squirrel. Maybe, if he was lucky, he might just be able to catch it. It wasn’t as easy as catching a borrower, but he was so starved he was willing to try hunt something for the time being. Honing in on the scent of the squirrel, he kept low to the ground, his footsteps light as a feather as he followed the scent of the animal. His throat burned at the anticipation of tasting red hot blood on his tongue once more. He had hunted since the crash, and as a result the rest of his companions had then discovered his true vampiric nature one eventful night. But over the past few days, the group had barely slowed down enough to give him a proper chance to hunt again. Gale was mostly preoccupied in helping every stranger they came across, much to his annoyance, Lae’zel was adamant on reaching the gith creche, Karlach was desperate to find some infernal iron to fix her infernal engine (although he couldn’t fault her for that), and Wyll was just as bad as Gale – if not worse – when it came to helping random strangers. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was fixated on her Shar worship and the mysterious artifact that she had in her grasp.
Astarion didn’t expect any of his companions to understand his vampiric ailments, but he had at least hoped that they would provide him the opportunity to acquire some sustenance for himself every now and again. After all, he was far more useful to them when he had a full stomach, and clearly less of a threat to them. The sound of tiny paws scurrying across foliage returned his attention back to the squirrel and he paused in his tracks. Dappled in the morning sun as it filtered through the trees, a red squirrel sat next to a tree, completely unaware of the vampire stalking it. Licking his lips, Astarion slowly inched closer towards the squirrel, his stomach rumbling loudly with each careful footstep that he took.
Yes, that’s it, just a little closer.
The piercing pain in his abdomen increased, and very foolishly, Astarion lunged towards the squirrel with his teeth bared. The squirrel immediately heard Astarion’s clumsy footwork and hastily darted up the nearby tree before the vampire spawn could come any closer, much to his dismay. Growling loudly in frustration, Astarion watched as the potential morsel of food disappeared into the canopy of the vibrant tree. He had stupidly allowed his hunger to get the better of him and pounced far too soon – he was getting incredibly sloppy. If he couldn’t even catch a mere squirrel, he really must be losing it. Grinding his teeth, he kicked a nearby pinecone and slumped against the tree and exhaled loudly. Not like he needed to breathe, being undead he technically didn’t require oxygen, but his fatigue and frustration warranted it in that moment.
If only I could sink my teeth into that borrower…gods, it would be so easy.
His mind quickly returned to Ria, her miniature figure soon swirling persistently throughout his thoughts. He was grateful that he was away from the camp, thanks to the tadpole, it wouldn’t take much for his companions to pry into his thoughts and see that he was still intent on devouring their little guest. Wetting his lips, he imagined what it would be like to taste all of her, her blood running hot on his tongue, her tiny body snapping like a twig in between his formidable teeth. It wouldn’t be a lot of blood, given how small she was, but the moment of pleasure her taste would bring on his tongue still made the action worth it in his mind. Technically, Ria had been the first sentient creature that he had tasted during his entire vampiric life so far. He wondered if he could even settle for the taste of beasts again after he had been given a little taste test over what he could be eating instead.
I need to stop thinking about her…gods!
Shaking his head, he attempted to push the thoughts of the borrower out of his brain, but he wasn’t very successful. Just when exactly were Gale and the others coming back? They would need at least a bear to satiate him at this rate. Groaning softly, he sat cross legged against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes.
The crunching of leaves against leather boots stirred his senses as he inhaled the familiar scent of the wizard. Too weak to bother standing up, Astarion remained in his spot against the tree, and opened his weary eyes. Gale was nowhere in sight, but thanks to his heightened senses, he could hear and smell the wizard well before he could see him.
“Astarion? Are you there?” Gale’s voice rang clearly throughout the forest.
“I’m over here,” Astarion responded, projecting his voice as loudly as he could in his weakened state. Attempting to hunt the squirrel earlier had been a very foolish move on his part as his body was becoming too weak to move or even stand.
“Alright, I’m coming.”
Several moments passed before Gale appeared in front of Astarion. A squealing boar was being held by a levitating blue hand beside the wizard, the remnants of magic sparking at his fingertips from most likely casting the spell, Mage Hand.
“You look like shit,” Gale said rather matter-of-factly.  
“Thanks,” Astarion grumbled, his mouth salivating as he stared at the boar floating beside the wizard. “Are you here just to poke fun at me or can I actually eat the snack you’ve brought me?”
The glowing blue hand deposited the boar onto Astarion’s lap rather swiftly, and before the boar could even process what was even happening, he immediately sunk his fangs into the neck of the animal and it’s squealing ceased in a matter of seconds.
“Goodness gracious, you were hungry,” Gale remarked as he watched the vampire spawn drain the enormous boar in less than a minute.
Energy coursed through his veins as the blood from the boar quickly replenished his starved body. He licked the blood off his lips and staggered to his feet, now eye level with Gale. The stabbing sensation in his stomach had dissipated for the most part, and he felt significantly better than he had moments prior. The blood from the boar had eased his hunger, but it paled in comparison to the delicious taste of Ria’s blood. At least for now he had the strength to hunt again and to think clearly at last.  
“Astarion,” Gale said, his gaze firm as he stared at the vampire spawn standing before him. “We need to have a talk before we go back to the camp.”
Astarion pressed his lips together thinly. “Please, Gale, stop talking to me like I’m a child that did something naughty. It’s quite insulting, really.”
“Sorry, it’s just – I’m dead serious, Astarion,” Gale replied, folding his arms over his chest. “I like to think of myself as an open-minded fellow, and I’m perfectly fine with your condition. You can’t help your nature, after all, and you are a true asset to our team.”
Astarion furrowed his brows at the wizard. “Where are you going with this, exactly?”
Gale heaved a sigh. “I was thinking about Ria and her situation.”
Astarion squinted his eyes at the wizard. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“I’d feel awful if we just left her to fend for herself out in the wilderness, after all, a borrower without a roof over their head might as well be dead given how small they are,” Gale continued, ignoring Astarion’s unhappy expression. “Not that I doubt Ria’s resilience, she’s done amazingly to survive this far, but it would be wrong if we didn’t at least offer to bring her along with us.”
“You want to bring the borrower with us?” Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Hm. That hardly seems like a good idea. She’s not exactly…helpful, with her size. Besides, I hardly doubt she’d want to stay with us anyway.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Gale responded, waving his finger at Astarion. “Providing you promise to behave yourself; I think she would warm up to the idea at least. And she could be useful – borrowers can climb into tiny spaces that we cannot and easily get past areas unseen if they wish. I think she would fit in well with our group.”
The notion of Ria staying with them didn’t exactly fill Astarion with glee, if anything, having to look out for someone so tiny in the camp seemed like a hinderance more than anything. That’s if Ria even agreed to Gale’s proposition, after last night, he doubted she would even want to breathe the same air as him let alone traveling together.
“I suppose I can be on my best behaviour if there’s a little borrower around the camp,” Astarion answered rather dully. “Have you spoken to the others about this?”
“Karlach and Shadowheart are on board with the idea,” Gale said. “I haven’t asked Lae’zel or Wyll yet, but I’m sure they will be alright with it. And of course, if Ria isn’t open to it, then she’s free to go her own separate ways whenever she is ready.”
Astarion failed to understand why Gale was so intent on bringing the borrower along in their quest to free themselves of the tadpole. But he didn’t care enough to protest the idea, besides, it was highly unlikely that Ria would even accept to begin with.
“Do you have a little crush on the borrower, Gale?” Astarion said in a very teasing tone, cocking an eyebrow at the wizard. “Emphasis on little, hah! I didn’t take you to have a size kink-“
“Of course, you of all people would suggest that,” Gale interrupted, rolling his eyes at the pale elf. “I am simply extending some generosity to someone who may appreciate it, nothing more. Being kind to others is something that you could benefit to learn from.”
“Perish the thought,” Astarion snapped, a scowl painted across his angular features. “Being kind is only worth doing if there is some benefit to doing it.”
No one was ever kind to me, he thought silently to himself, hoping that Gale wasn’t utilising the tadpole’s abilities to peer into his mind at that very moment. Fortunately for him, Gale was none the wiser and just shook his head at the vampire spawn in a very disappointing manner.
“Perhaps in time you’ll understand, Astarion. I suppose for now we best get back to camp.” Gale quickly glanced at the drained boar resting beside Astarion’s feet. “It would be a shame to let all that meat go to waste. This will make for a fine dinner tonight.” Uttering an enchantment, the blue hand materialised itself once more and picked up the deceased boar with ease. The wizard began to turn away towards the camp before quickly glancing back at Astarion.
“Are you coming or shall I leave you to brood some more?” A hint of mockery laced through the wizard’s tone, and Astarion couldn’t help but to smirk at Gale’s attempt at teasing him.
“I’d rather brood than listen to your incessant ramblings of every book you’ve ever read,” Astarion snapped. “Besides, the boar was just a mere appetizer. I should really fill myself up before returning to camp. You go on ahead.”
Without another word, Gale gave Astarion a small nod and vanished into the thick of the forest with the boar levitating beside him, his purple robes flicking out behind him somewhat dramatically in the cool breeze as he turned away.
Alone once more, Astarion returned his attention to finding food – he needed to sink his teeth into something large and filling if he was going to face the others at camp.
***
“You want me to join your group?”
Astarion waltzed into the camp, his belly now full after the six deer and adult bear that he had eaten, and gazed over at Gale and the others who were gathered around the dwindling embers of the morning’s campfire. Ria was situated on a log on top of a pile of Gale’s books to help elevate her somewhat. Not that it did much, considering how small she was, but it was something.
“Only if you want to, of course,” Gale said, his gaze softened as he stared at the little borrower beside him on the log. “We could assist you in finding somewhere more permanent to live along the way, if you find somewhere to your liking. It’s up to you.”
Ria opened and closed her mouth, attempting to form words, but she was too stunned to speak.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” Ria stammered after a moment of silence. “That is very generous of you to offer, truly, I…” Her voice trailed off and Astarion watched as her gaze fell onto his.
A small smirk spread across his features as he watched her expression change and her lips pull together thinly. A mixture of emotions danced across her face and Astarion could only imagine the internal debate she must’ve been going through at that moment.
She won’t say yes. There’s no way-
“Alright, I’ll stay.”
Astarion staggered back from his spot and almost choked on thin air at hearing Ria’s response. His eyes widened as his eyebrows shot up in utter shock. Was the borrower serious? No, this couldn’t be happening…surely?
“Fuck yes!” Karlach exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air with excitement. She immediately paused, noticing that everyone now had their eyes on her, and she quickly cleared her throat as her gaze trailed down to the floor in embarrassment.
“I mean, it’s great that you’re coming along with us,” Karlach said, her voice noticeably quieter than before. “It’ll be nice to have another person in the camp.”
“I agree with Karlach,” Gale added, a warm smile painted across his features. “It’s wonderful that you’ve decided to join us.”
“The little istik could be useful, even in battle.” Lae’zel kneeled beside where Ria was sitting on the log, her piercing yellow eyes brushed over the borrower’s tiny frame with a surprising gentleness which was most unlike the githyanki warrior. Astarion wondered if Lae’zel was starting to develop a little soft spot for the borrower.
“I will train you, istik. If you are willing.”
Ria’s eyes nearly popped right out of her head at the githyanki’s suggestion. 
“Y-you will?” Ria stammered in disbelief.
Lae’zel nodded. “I will train you in the ways of K'liir, and when I am done, even creatures larger than you will think twice before crossing your path. If you accept my offer, that is.”
Ria blinked, bewilderment and perplexation strongly present across her tiny face as she stared at Lae’zel.
“I would like that,” she replied after a moment of silence. “That is very kind of you to offer, thank you.” As the rest of his companions rejoiced and generally seemed happy that Ria was going to be a part of the group, Astarion himself was baffled that the little borrower had even agreed to Gale’s offer in the first place. Not only that, but Lae’zel had suggested to train her in the art of githyanki combat, which was the most surprising of all. He had no idea how Lae’zel thought that a borrower of all creatures could even be remotely beneficial in battle – if anything, it would be a death sentence for Ria. But he knew better than to question the githyanki, especially if her mind was set on something. At least it would provide for some amusing entertainment.
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berenwrites · 5 months
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Wake-up Call - Steddie - PG
A/N: I guess ideas are like buses, not a sign of one and then two come at once! So have another ficlet inspired by this month’s prompt (other one is here). Could have used so many more words for this one. Maybe I will one day. Thanks for reading.  Also don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.
Written for prompt: HOLE | wc: 404 | PG | cw: past character death, angst with hopeful ending
(Also on AO3)(check out my other ST fanfic on Tumblr here)
Wake-up Call: An End or a Beginning?
The darkness lifted like a curtain being pulled back. Steve blinked, found himself looking at Eddie.
The side of Eddie’s face was scarred and one of his big brown eyes was milky, but the other stared back at him with purpose.
For a moment, Steve couldn’t figure out what was going on, until he looked down.
There was the hole in his chest the claw had made, ripping through him like paper. He remembered breathing his last. Only now the wound was sealed with seemingly hundreds of tiny vines the same colour as his skin.
He glanced around. They were all there in a long row: him, Eddie, Barb, Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, Billy, Bob. The dead who would bring pain to the madman’s enemies.
None of them were being used in the battle Steve could see going on. Vecna’s creatures were attacking the defenders of Hawkins as El went one on one with the man himself. They were like window dressing. Something to frighten and distress. Toys to be displayed.
All the others’ eyes were milky, their faces blank. Only Eddie was aware, and Steve could feel the connection between them. Something amorphous he could not explain, but that cut through the fog in his mind. Something that whispered of might-have-been.
Eddie had his spear in one hand, Steve held his axe, like action figures with the proper accessories. Only these playthings were out of their box.
With a nod of his head, Eddie indicated Vecna’s back. The monster was totally open from this side and completely distracted as El screamed at him, blood pouring from her nose. Eddie touched his spear, then his heart before pointing to Steve’s axe and touching his neck. Steve nodded.
He was ready.
Together they broke ranks, stalking towards the creature who had thought to use them. With a battle-cry they lifted their weapons and struck. Steve’s axe removed the monster’s head as Eddie’s spear destroyed his heart.
Everything stopped.
Steve had just enough time to catch Robin’s eyes across the still battlefield, giving her a small smile, before his body remembered pain. Eddie’s hand latched onto his arm, grasping wildly. He clung back, falling to his knees as agony lanced through him. Lanced through them.
It didn’t feel like dying. Not like last time. Maybe it was an ending, maybe it was a beginning. He didn’t know, but he held to Eddie as they shared it together.
(check out my other ST fanfic on Tumblr here)
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