#we saw a dead fish and i HAD to bury it

[artiststarme]

Wayne's Unspoken Shovel Talk

I keep seeing shovel talk fics on my dash so I figured I would throw my hat in the ring! It’s short and I don’t love it but here we go.

~*~*~*~

Wayne liked to think that he and the Harrington kid had an unspoken understanding. If Steve hurt Eddie in any way, shape, or form, Wayne was going to kill him. Sure, he hadn’t said it in so many words, in any words in fact. However, he knew it was heavily implied through his cautious glares and thinly veiled interrogations. He may not have given him a shovel talk but that was only because Eddie had threatened to stop buying coffee for the trailer if he did.

He and Steve might watch the game together every Sunday. Hell, Wayne even dropped lunch off to the kid on the days Eddie worked at the garage and Steve left his food in the fridge. But, it was well-known to everyone that he would always be in Eddie’s corner before anyone else’s. He might approve of the Harrington boy dating his nephew but he’d gut him like a fish if he made Eddie shed a single tear.

So, when Eddie comes home crying one day, Wayne doesn’t even think before he’s pulling on his work boots and grabbing his shotgun.

He hardly makes eye contact with Eddie as he brushes past him on his way to his truck. He only stopped when a hand grabbed his elbow and turned him around to look a heavily upset Eddie in the eye.

“Wha- Wayne. Where are you going?” Eddie asked him in utter confusion.

“I’m ‘bout to go show your boy what happens when he makes ya cry.”

“What? I’m not crying because of Steve.”

That made Wayne pause. He hadn’t even thought to consider another possibility. Eddie had said that he was going to see Steve today and he assumed that the Harrington boy had hurt his nephew.

“What is it then?”

Tears started to form in Eddie’s eyes again which filled him with alarm. How bad was it if he was starting to cry again?

“I saw a dead dog on my way to Family Video. Someone hit it and just left it there on the side of the road! I stopped and tried to help it but it was already dead. An innocent animal! Maybe someone’s pet and they just left it there!” Eddie cried theatrically.

Wayne was well acquainted with his nephew’s dramatics. His alarmed concern evaporated as he pulled Eddie in for a hug. His nephew always was a bit sensitive. Wayne had learnt a long time ago that the best route to take in this situation would be a listening ear and a warm hug, maybe a pat on the head or two if the circumstance arose.

“It’s alright kid, you leave it there? We could take it to the woods and dig it a grave. Would that make you feel better?”

Eddie nodded before his gaze narrowed. “Wait a second. Why’d you have your shotgun if you were going to talk to Steve?”

“I thought he hurt ya,” Wayne shrugged.

“So you were going to shoot him! No Wayne! You can’t just shoot people that upset me, you’d kill the whole goddamn town. Next time, talk to me first. And no guns!” Eddie ranted, waving his hands around passionately.

“Hey, your boy knows what he’s getting himself into! If he hurts ya, he’ll be looking down the barrel of my shotgun. End of.” He wouldn’t be the first Munson to go to prison but he would be the last.

“Jesus Christ, Uncle Wayne. Please don’t.”

“Well, if he don’t hurt ya, things’ll be fine. He better keep his ass in line. Now go get a shovel, we gotta grave to bury.”

Eddie looked impressively distressed at his words before Wayne rolled his eyes and clarified, “for the dog. Go.”

And so the Harrington kid lives for another day.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @trippypancakes @straight4joekeery

#Eddie tells Steve about it later and he gets scared #he tries to bribe Wayne with a pie at the next football game #it doesn’t work but he does get an invite to cook on holidays #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #uncle wayne #shovel talk

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #25

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: torture, murder

He sent Elliot to sleep in his bedroom. The poor thing was exhausted, and he needed a nap somewhere safe. 

After a bit of prodding, Elliot had told him he couldn’t remember anything prior to ‘his old master’ and Horneswood might have some information.

Ambrose couldn’t imagine just… forgetting everything. They had to have done something to his mind. He wracked his brain as he prepped, but he couldn’t think of any natural substance that could erase twenty-odd years of memories.

Surely Elliot had a life before his captors. There was no way he would have run if there wasn’t something in his mind that knew the abuse wasn’t normal. Even if it was subconscious. 

They’d find out soon enough. Elliot wanted to ask the bastard questions, and Ambrose would make sure he got truthful answers. He fished around in his jewelry box for the proper amulet.

He didn’t like using magic much; it felt like cheating. And after so many decades of shortcuts, it was nice to slow down and do things the long way.

This was not the time to do things the long way. Thank goodness he had kept all the magic trinkets and jewelry his husband had given him. 

The amulet was buried under some rings, and it took him a moment to untangle the gold chain from the gemstones. It was an inconspicuous thing, a simple teardrop ruby framed in gold, but the unnatural weight gave it away.

The cold metal immediately warmed in his palm; it recognized him. He clasped the chain around his neck, slipping it under his shirt. 

He couldn't remember what the enchantment was called, but it would let him know when someone was lying or not. A useful thing in an interrogation.

The rest of the preparations were easy. Ambrose rolled up his rugs and put them in the closet. He grabbed some rags and put them down before placing a worn chair in the middle of the room. He took old sheets and draped them over the furniture in case there was any blood spray.

He kept Elliot close by after his nap, occupying him with chores they could do side-by-side.

Until nightfall came.

He sent Elliot up to his room, and chatted nonchalantly with Mr. Horneswood- first name Sebastian (ew). He gently maneuvered the conversation, and found out that Horneswood was far from home, headed back after visiting relatives. 

His disappearance wouldn’t be noticed for months, and like most missing persons, would be assumed dead by exposure or bandits.

Good.

He went ‘to bed’ after filing the information away in his mind.

Elliot had left the door unlocked for him, as planned, and he slipped inside.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to Elliot in the dark. He took his place by the door, hidden in the shadows. He unsheathed Janus’s dagger and waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard Sebastian whistling, the cocky shitbag.

The handle turned, and Ambrose kept still.

Horneswood entered the room, and in the dim light he saw him grin. Just a step further-

Ambrose lunged, clapping his hand over Sebastian’s mouth, the dagger to his neck.

“We need to have a chat.”

___________________

Ambrose pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. He didn’t want any blood on it.

“I- What are you going to do to me?” whimpered Sebastian. He was tied down on the chair, rope securing his wrists to the armrests and his ankles to the wooden legs. Elliot sat on the sheet-covered couch, watching.

“I’m going to kill you, of course.” Ambrose traced the edge of his dagger. 

“Please- please don’t- I haven’t done any-”

“Bullshit you haven’t,” he snarled. He swung the blade forward, stopping a scant half inch before his throat.

“Elliot has told me enough to know you deserve to die. How that happens depends on you.”

“Wha-”

“You’re going to answer Elliot’s questions. If you tell him the truth, I’ll be nice and make it quick,” he lied. 

“And if you don’t… well. I’m sure you can guess.”

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, and he glanced at Elliot. Ambrose savored his ashen face, the shake in his hands, the quiver of his lip.

How Poetic.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Horneswood’s eyes snapped to his, and they were filled with terror.

“Go ahead, Ellie.”

Elliot looked unsure, but Ambrose gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, love, he can’t hurt you.”

“You- you said Elliot was my new name. What was it before?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t- what do you mean?” Horneswood looked between them, tears in his eyes.

“Did- I mean. I had a name, didn’t I? Like real people.” Elliot wrung his hands, staring at the floor.

“Answer the question.” He pressed the blade to one of Sebastian’s thumbs, threatening it.

“I don’t remember- I’m sorry!” sobbed Sebastian. “Don’t!”

The amulet tingled and the air tasted sweet. It was the truth- he didn’t know.

“See?” teased Ambrose. “Not so hard.” He let up on the finger.

“How long was I with my old master?” asked Elliot, bolder than before.

“I- um- four years.”

Ambrose inhaled, tasting the air. Bitter. A lie. Too bad.

He dug the tip of the blade into Sebastian's forearm. The man screamed, and Ambrose twisted the dagger. He waited a moment.

“Try again.”

“Six!” he cried. “Please, stop!” Ambrose flicked the pommel, and Hornesood squealed like a stuck pig.

Six years. Elliot couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe eighteen. Sebastian was only covering his ass because sixteen was barely legal. Not that it mattered anymore; there were worse crimes afoot.

But even six years of torture surely couldn’t reduce his memory to ash.

No one forgot their own name in six years without help.

He looked over to Elliot, and clearly he hadn’t expected that. 

“Is he lying?” he whispered, and Ambrose shook his head. Elliot looked away.

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Horneswood.

“Shut up,” snapped Ambrose. He grabbed Sebastian’s hair, yanking his head backwards. “What did you do to make him forget? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” protested Sebastian. Lie.

“You did more than nothing.” He pried a finger loose from Horneswood’s clenched fist, and severed it from his hand in one clean cut. 

Sebastian screamed again, high and piercing.

“What did you do?”

Horneswood panted. “It wasn’t me! A mage- owed Ed a favor- some spell- so he’d obey-” he gasped, “Just stop! Please!”

Ambrose glanced at Elliot, who had tears running down his face.

Memory erasure. Elliot’s whole identity, his past, gone in a flash. Irreversible. 

Fuck.

“I- I really was a person-” Elliot looked down at his hands. He covered his face, weeping.

Ambrose put down the knife. 

“Ellie,” he wrapped his arms around him, “you’re still a person.” 

Elliot tucked his head under his chin, pressing his face into his chest, clutching his shirt.

“I’m not,” he sobbed, “Not anymore.” Tears soaked his shirt, but he paid them no heed. “I just th-thought I was a-always this way. Meant to be- to serve. I- I didn’t know- he lied to me-”

Ambrose had already decided earlier that Horneswood wasn’t going to die easily, but now the idea of prolonging even further-

He couldn’t pass that up.

He rubbed Elliot’s back. “Do you want to ask him anything more, sweetheart?” Elliot shook his head. “Alright.”

“Can I sleep in your room?”

“Of course, love.” Ambrose looked over to see Sebastian. “But there might be some noise.” Horneswood’s head snapped up, and Ambrose grinned at him.

“I don’t mind, sir.”

Ambrose kissed Ellie’s forehead. “I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

Ambrose watched him go, the door clicking behind him.

“So,” he turned to Horneswood, “where do you want to start?”

___________________

“How do you feel about castration?”

“Fu’ you,” moaned Horneswood. It had become difficult for him to talk since Ambrose had pulled out a few of his teeth.

Blood dripped from the wounds on Sebastian's chest, and Ambrose considered the scars he’d seen on Elliot. He didn’t have a whip, but there were other ways. He grabbed the iron poker from the stand. Might as well finish him off. It was getting late. 

“Unlikely. But I suppose you make a point. Once I cauterize it, you won’t feel the pain anyway.”

He untied Horneswood’s writs and shoved him forward onto the floor. He straddled his back, forcing his hands behind him. Once he was secured and tied, he cut away the ankle bindings.

Sebastian didn’t have the strength to move away, the blood loss weakening him.

Ambrose put the chair aside. He tapped the ground with the poker, right by his head, and Horneswood flinched.

“I’m going to beat you to death,” he announced. “Sound fair?”

“ ‘illing is a th’in.” panted Sebastian. “Your ‘od will ha’e you.”

A spark of anger flared in Ambrose’s chest. How dare he? “You know, I don’t think he’ll mind.” He clutched the poker, his knuckles turning white.

He brought the poker down on his ankles. Horneswood howled, his bones likely shattering.

Good. 

The cracking of bones was sharp and loud, but it was nothing compared to the sounds of Sebastian’s wailing and piercing shrieks.

Ambrose made his way up Hornewood’s body, his feet, shins, thighs, pelvis (that got special attention), until finally his ribs. 

He wheezed when Ambrose struck his lower chest, and he began to cough blood. It splattered on the floor, tiny droplets of scarlet.

Ambrose paused. He’d perforated his lung, a deadly wound, but if he stopped now it would be hours before Horneswood died. Hours of excruciating pain.

He wiped the poker down with a spare rag. He put it back on its stand.

He cleaned his dagger as Sebastian choked and coughed.

He put another log on the fire. 

Ambrose went into the bathroom to wash up. He scrubbed his hands, washed his face, brushed his teeth as Horneswood sputtered on the floor.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and would be dead by morning.

___________________

Master Ambrose slipped into bed beside him, smelling faintly of blood. Elliot rolled over, burrowing into him. Ambrose was warm, and protective, and Elliot could finally relax.

“Is he dead?”

Ambrose wrapped an arm around him, a hand coming to pet his hair.

“Dying,” he said. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”

“’Kay. Thank you.” Ambrose pulled him close, humming, and the comfortable sound lulled him into a deep sleep.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut

#screaming cheering applauding #feeling good as shit in this chilis tonight #my writing #whump #ambrose and elliot #slavery whump #whumper turned whumpee

[linalavender]

How Tatsuki Fujimoto writes Affection

First of all I would like to give massive credit to Tiktok user @campaign_baby for their Tiktok I saw on this that really made me think of it alot more

I will Bring up Examples from:

Shikaku

Mermaid Rhapsody

Goodbye Eri

Fire Punch

Chainsaw Man Part 1 (Quite a big spoiler in this will give fair warning)

Fujimoto has a sort of strange method he uses to write that a character Loves/cares deeply for someone. And its The character either being willing to be consumed or to provide sustenance to someone, Or to consume the other person. Examples:

Shikaku

After Shikaku confesses her love for Yucel, He rushes to the hospital to offer her his blood, Making her into an immortal vampire just like him. Yucel has also fallen for Shikaku, its basically his confession of love, He wants to live with her Forever.

Its drawn in a way you can tell its such an act of compassion too.

Mermaid Rhapsody

"I loved her so much that I thought, If it was by someone with a smile as pretty as hers, Maybe being eaten wouldn't be so bad."

Toshihides Dad feels the exact same way about his Mom as Toshihide feels about Shijyu. Mermaids eat humans, But that never mattered to either of them.

Goodbye Eri

In Yuutas Movie about Eri, He writes her to be a Vampire, because he wouldnt actually mind to be her sustenance, In his movie, he loves Eri so much. (I genuinely cant read this fucking story without sobbing, Rereading it again just to get this screengrab just made me cry for like 20 min help)

Fire Punch

This one is Pretty straight forward, Agni with his regenerative powers feeds his village by continuously chopping of his Arm so they dont all starve to death. But more importantly he does this to prevent his sister from doing it aswell. He doesnt want her to suffer that pain so he takes sole responsibility for providing himself to the village.

Agni also later feeds his followers with the help of Togata Chopping of the part of his face that isnt on Fire. I think this has more todo with making sure Togata gets fed rather than his followers, To Agni Togata means alot.

⚠️Chainsaw Man Part 1 (Spoilers for the Final arc)⚠️

When Power is about to Die, Power not only offers her own blood For Denji to Drink so he can get back to health, But Pochita also offers a small part of himself so she can come back as a Powerful Devil.

And ofcourse the big one is Denji Eating Makima. He obviously has to and all for the sake of erasing her. But he explicitly says it wasnt an Attack, It was an act of Love.

Its such a fascinating thing that the idea of consuming someone can be concidered something you do to a cherished one, as an affectionate thing. I guess as Denji mentions that you basically become one with eachother in a way if you consume them.

But this is such a Weird thing Right? Where does this idea even originate from? Well ofcourse we can only Speculate but I really think he took on inspiration from his own life here, Because he has actually done this to someone he loved. Yes, Seriously.

Tatsuki Fujimoto eating his deceased Pet Fish

In the Authors notes for "Tatsuki Fujimoto Before Chainsaw Man: 22-26" Fujimoto shares a story from when he was 24:

"Even though we were poor, we had a pet Japanese rice fish. I found it dead one summer. I went to toss its body into the trash like in Parasyte, but my girlfriend said she wanted me to bury it, So off I went to the park, alone. I tried to bury it under this big tree, but the ground was too hard, my hands got all dirty and I had no hole to show for my effort. Out of Options, I figured I would pretend I had buried the fish and left it lying there on top of the ground. As I watched it for a little while, ants found the body and began to carry it away. Im not sure what came over me, but in that moment, love for that pet fish welled within me for the first time. I brushed the ants away, and then Ate it."

You can read the full story here

It has that "Wait what the hell am I reading" Charm to the story like alot of his works, But theres something so weirdly beautiful about this story, Somehow stricken with grief and love for this fish, He ate it. As Denji says, its not an attack, his fish is part of him now and its an act of love. So strange, yet so Beautiful.

Anyways thanks for reading this insanely long post if you even got this far I appreciate it!

#tatsuki fujimoto #fire punch #chainsaw man #goodbye eri #Mermaid Rhapsody #Shikaku #chainsaw man spoilers

[gamerbearmira]

BUT THE EVIL IS NECESSARYYYYY

Listen. I love Twilight by bôa that's what I was listening to when I wrote this 😭 NOW THE HOUSBROKEN KIDS DO GET TO BE HAPPY 🙏🙏 just. Not here. I will write fluff eventually, maybe some more of Alma being forgiven, idk 🤧🤧

In the meantime. More of their curse causing them to be feral lmao ❗❗❗

LEA GET IT

-----

Luisa stared at her hands, backing away. She didn't mean to. It was an accident. Sometimes she lost control of her gift, and she had found herself growing stronger as of late. And the curse? Well, it didn't help. She had even less control.

She didn't want to hurt any animals. Not unless it was necessary. And the buck was charging at her, she didn't have a choice! She tried to run, tried to move, but it didn't let up. And she didn't see the rock, she didn't know it was there. And she blacked out, for a moment, only a moment! And she...well they were running low on food. And Isabela couldn't use her gift, she was straining herself.

Luisa dropped the bloody antler, staring at the still, lifeless body of the buck. The bear ears atop her head flattened, and she held her hands close. She dropped down to the forest floor, crying. Was she a monster now? Had the curse taken over her mind too? What would the others think?

Luisa couldn't stop crying. She sobbed, feeling terrible. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She felt so helpless. So weak.

"Lulu?" Luisa turned around at the voice, hiccuping. She saw Isabela standing there, looking worried. Luisa stood, rushing to her 13-year-old sister, burying her blood-covered face into her chest. "Luisa? What happened? Dolores said you were crying."

"I didn't mean it! I didn't wanna hurt it!" Luisa sobbed, clutching Isabela's dress. Isabela looked at her in concern, kneeling and attempting to calm Luisa down.

"Breathe, Luisa, slow down," Isabela said, her ears dropping. Luisa was gasping as she tried to calm herself. She looked at Isabela with watery eyes. Isabela saw the blood on her face and furrowed her eyebrows. But before she could ask if Luisa was ok, the younger spoke up.

"I didn't mean to kill it. It was...it was gonna hurt me and..." Luisa said between hiccups, trailing off as she buried her face into Isabela's dress. Isabela was confused for a moment, but the smell of blood filled the air, and her gaze drifted to the dead buck, one of its antlers ripped away.

It was gruesome, to be entirely honest. Isabela knew that what happened wasn't by natural causes. What happened had to have been done by Luisa. But the extent of the buck's injuries didn't match up. Sure, Luisa lost control sometimes, which explained why the antlers were ripped away, and why its head was on top of a rock.

But that didn't explain the gaping hole in its torso.

Isabela stared at it for a long time, the only sound in her tall ears being the forest sounds and Luisa's crying. She looked down at her bloody sister, then at the buck.

"Luisa...what happened?" Isabela asked, and Luisa looked up at Isabela. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Isabela then looked at the blood drenching her mouth, and she shuddered but didn't pull away. "Luisa. What. Happened."

Luisa stared at Isabela more, not saying a word. Looking down in guilt, she bit her lip, her sharp teeth pricking them. "I...was so hungry. And we don't have much of any food left. A-And the fish aren't around," Luisa mumbled, her voice raspy from her crying. She looked up at Isabela again, tears already pouring from her eyes. "I just wanted to eat Isa. And it was right there."

Isabela looked down at Luisa. The bear features of the small girl seemed more enunciated. She didn't look the part of an innocent 9-year-old girl so much as she did a cursed child trying to survive in the rainforest. "Luisa, did you...?"

Luisa looked down, gripping Isabela's dress. Isabela's bobcat ears fell flat as she hugged Luisa silently. "I'm sorry. But I was hungry. I-I couldn't help it," Luisa said in a watery voice, her voice cracking once more.

Isabela could feel Luisa trembling. Isabela could feel herself trembling. She wasn't sure how to react. She didn't...blame Luisa. Not really. They were running low on food. Really, really low. Isabela could only use her gift so much, and she was getting tired. And winter was coming; and while it didn't necessarily snow, it got cold enough to the point that the fish were scarce, and what little fish they did catch didn't last. Especially not with Luisa and Camilo. By far, they ate the most, and that didn't even factor in how much Isabela herself, Dolores, and Mirabel ate. There just wasn't enough food.

Isabela looked at the deer. Could they? Well, Luisa seemed fine, if not a bit shaken. And it's not like any of them knew how to skin an animal and cook it. They barely knew how to cook fish. And most of the time, Luisa didn't even bother having hers cooked, she just picked it up and ate it raw. So...

"Luisa," Isabela asked, her voice a little detached, and Luisa looked up at her. Isabela's tall ears swiveled around before standing straight, twitching.

"Yeah?" Luisa said in a small voice.

"Did it taste...good? Was it weird in any way? Like rotten, or like maybe the buck had a disease?" Isabela asked and Luisa froze for a moment before answering.

"U-Um...no. I mean it tasted fine, I wouldn't say it was bad...I guess it was good," Luisa shrugged and Isabela continued to stare at the mangled buck before she looked at Luisa.

"Let's bring it back to the den," Isabela whispered, and Luisa's eyes widened. What? Actually? But it was a wild animal, and only other wild animals ate wild animals.

They weren't...they weren't wild animals, right?

"B-But Isa, we can't!" Luisa argued.

"Why not?" Isabela asked, looking down at her sister, her eyes wild, and Luisa flinched at the look in them. "Think about it, Lulu. That buck could last us for the rest of the week! We won't have to struggle to fish, and we won't have to rely on my gift anymore."

"We..." Luisa trailed off, unable to give an argument. Her sister wasn't exactly wrong.

"Come on Luisa. You don't want the others to be hungry, do you? And you won't be hungry either. We don't even have to cook!" Isabela reasoned and Luisa was breaking, slowly.

Isabela was right. Cooking was hard, and Isabela and Dolores only had limited knowledge of it thanks to Julieta. But other than that? Nothing. Luisa was the only one who ate the fish raw, though she knew there had been a few times where it had been undercooked and the others ate it; they were fine. Luisa knew Isabela couldn't keep making vegetation forever. She was tired. And they were always so hungry, they couldn't keep going without food. Other forest animals were far more abundant than fish as well.

"I...I guess you are right," Luisa mumbled, looking back at the buck.

"See! I knew you'd agree. Now, help me carry it back. The others will be happy we found food," Isabela said, standing, Luisa trailing behind her. As Isabela helped Luisa hoist the buck onto her shoulders, her mind raced.

She hoped they didn't go too far.

-----

OKOKOK I'LL STOP <\\\333

But as you can see. They are very conflicted. Of course, this incident only happens about one or two more times. It wouldn't have happened again unless the candle died and Casita fell, lol

OH WAIT. HAHAHA 👺👺👺👺

No but. They will be happy. Eventually. In the meantime I'm gonna do this ask and while I do. I ask who wants to see a mama Isa snippet I wrote thus morning 🤧🤧

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto isabela #encanto Luisa #housebroken #housebroken au

[1000punks]

bonding. //nesting

//bonding. masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. discussions of past s/a. light (for now) bondage. more explicit stuff to come in later chapters.

word count: 2,829

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. i definitely blacked out and wrote this before finishing the game on this particular file for real because the final battle was frustrating the fuck out of me. named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

The past months had been an entirely welcome change for the both of them, and they had taken to domestic life with zest and fervor. It was surprising, considering that each of them were fish out of water in their own right. Festé's positive attitude had soothed the blow of descending back into the night for the elf. Astarion's intense desires to try new things had kept things more than adventurous for the ranger. They certainly made an odd couple, but anyone who knew them well could see each was exactly what the other needed.

Once the restoration of the Upper City had begun, the two made the decision to settle down somewhere nearby. They talked at length about where they would go, and what they would do, and took their time weighing their options. One night as they were walking through the Lower City, engrossed in conversation, Astarion stopped dead in front of an old townhouse. It looked abandoned and derelict in the dim lamplight of the street. Festé had watched Astarion study it, a smile spreading on their face as he dropped their hand and gave them a devious look.

"Look at this ugly old thing!" he had exclaimed, sidling up the half-broken porch and reaching into his pocket for his tools. "Why, it looks just like I did, I'm sure, the first time we met. All broken and run-down, and in need of some tender loving care." He had laughed airily, popping the rusty lock with ease, and held his hand out for Festé to take. He led them inside and positioned them in front of himself as they took in the front room together. The elf had placed his hands on their shoulders, the two slowly revolving on the spot.

"Do you… like it, Astarion?" Festé had asked, and he had drawn in a long breath. They could tell without seeing his face that he had closed his eyes. After a few moments of him being lost in his imagination, he answered.

"I do. This place has wonderful bones, and I have excellent vision. Would you indulge me, my love?"

Festé laughed heartily and turned to kiss his cheek, pulling out one of his old lines - much to the elf's chagrin - "How could I say no?"

Months passed, and the house slowly became their home. Festé took up carpentry, following Astarion's meticulous designs. Astarion spent the days indoors, choosing wood grains, fabrics, art, and other decorations to 'spruce up the place,' as he had put it. The tiefling spent days in the sun, hammering and sawing, building counters and bookcases, chairs, a table, even a bedframe. Any time Astarion called their name, they dutifully (and happily) strode inside to wrap him in a hug, letting him relish in the heat of the sun while it radiated off their skin. He would always hum and bury his face in their neck, sometimes picking them up and wrapping their body around his like a favourite coat.

Suddenly, it seemed, they had a beautiful home and a perfect life together, but Festé noticed the change in Astarion's behaviour immediately following the end of their project together. He moved about the house more fretfully than usual, and sometimes spoke in clipped tones, particularly in the mornings when it was no longer safe for him to enjoy their cozy porch. Then the flashbacks started once more, especially when the two were intimate with one another.

Astarion had developed a habit of ambushing Festé in various corners of the house, where the tiefling would happily reciprocate the attentions. He would kiss them forcefully, pressing them against the walls, on top of the bed, in the bathroom. He would always bite down their neck in the way he knew that they liked, working on opening their shirt when his movements would become mechanical. Too practiced. Festé would set their hands on his arms gently, holding still as Astarion would breathe heavily, pulling away from them with a faraway look and burying his face in his hands. Festé was patient and kind, every time, fixing their clothes and softly asking Astarion if he would like a hug before wrapping him gently in their arms, reassuring him when he would cling to them firmly and apologize.

One night, some months later, they were laying in bed together, each engrossed in their own books. Astarion had taken up learning Infernal, and was poring over an old history volume that Festé had found for him. They couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, and admittedly, a little embarrassment, that he had taken such an interest in his tiefling lover's background. He was more committed than they had thought, and had asked lots of questions as he made his way through the book. Festé preferred old Rashemaar stories, and chuckled out loud as they imagined Minsc recounting the war stories and legends in his booming voice. Astarion had one cool hand on the small of their back, and they fully enjoyed the discreet gesture of intimacy. He sighed suddenly and closed the book with a snap, and they looked up.

"What is it, love?" they tilted their head, studying his face with concern.

"My dear, I do enjoy sipping tea for hours into the night, but sometimes it is dreadfully dull." Festé knew exactly what he wasn't saying, but waited for him to continue, closing their book as well. Astarion had a way with being lighthearted in tone, while covering up what was eating at him. After this long, it wasn't very subtle. His eyes were downcast as he continued, "I… well, you know me, my love. You know that I want to try new things, and one of those things is sex. On a regular basis, and with someone I deeply care about." He looked at them, a little wide-eyed, "I don't know if it's the fact that I can't be in the sun anymore, or if I have regrets, or if I'm… simply broken, but I- I just…" Astarion took their hand suddenly. "I want to, but I don't know how to make myself feel okay, when I want to. I'm sorry, but I- "

Festé listened to him speak, squeezing his hand and interrupting in a soft voice when he began to apologize, shaking their head gently. "Star, you don't have to apologize for that. I'm not going to get bored of you if we only have sex once in a while, or not at all. There are so many ways to be intimate besides- "

"I know!" he snapped, but Festé was nonplussed, they understood he was just frustrated, and they squeezed his hand again reassuringly. "I know, my dear. But I want to." He all but growled the last words. "I want to find a way. I want to experiment with that." Festé nodded, and gestured for him to continue. "I think that part of it is the sense of control, for me. Too often I've battled with feeling out of control - whether it's my thirst, being whored out, or when I got kidnapped… all of that. And now, not being able to join you in the sun, I guess it just brought up a lot of those old feelings for me."

"That makes sense, love." Festé studied his face, it was clear that he had been mulling this over for a while. Astarion looked sheepish, as if he shared too much, and the tiefling smiled gently. "If you want to be in control, then I am more than willing to do whatever it is you ask of me. I trust you with my life."

Astarion smiled too, looking relieved. "Why don't we test that theory, you lovely little imp. Kiss me." Festé chuckled, crawling up the bed and planting a peck on his lips. "Good," he said, "Now warm me up," the elf pouted playfully. "I'm cold." Festé raised their eyebrows, reaching to move the books to the bedside table and straddling his hips before flopping down on him like a ragdoll. They laughed together, Astarion rubbing over their back. "Very good. I do have a serious question to ask you, though, and please answer honestly, my love." The tiefling nodded. "Have you ever… let anybody tie you up?"

Festé rested their cheek on their palm, considering it for a moment. "Well…" they hummed, "There was one time, in Amn, but that was when I was being interrogated." They looked up, their eyebrows knitting at his expression. "I… what? I was, and I remember it being very- " Astarion interrupted with a cackle, petting through their hair as he shook the bed with his laughter.

"During sex, my darling. Has anyone tied you up during sex?"

"Well, no. I've never trusted someone this much." They paused, taking in his surprise. "But, I can tell you that I definitely didn't… hate being tied up in Amn. I can definitely see how it would be pleasurable, with the right person." Astarion stroked their other cheek as they spoke, nodding thoughtfully.

"Do you trust me enough to try it with me, my love?" he whispered, his tone unsure.

"I do." they said simply, sitting up and gathering one of his hands to their chest. "I also trust you with a dagger, I know you would cut me out if something bad happened."

Astarion chuckled and shook his head, "You know, I'm always astounded by how easygoing you are, darling. I feel like I could tell you we need to hide a body and- "

"Do we?" They laughed together once more, Astarion grabbing the tiefling and crushing them into a hug.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · The first time was very nearly a disaster, and resulted in a stiff, sore tiefling, and a very panicked elf. Astarion carried Festé to their large bathtub at the end of the night, and once he had undressed them and put them in the steaming water, he went to the kitchen to get a bottle of wine for them to share. He stripped and sat down with them in the water, pulling his poor little imp into his lap and uncorking the bottle with his teeth.

He took a sip and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke softly. "I'm… terribly sorry, my dear. I did not realize that bending your arm that way would… would…" he bit his lip, looking distraught.

"Darling, it's hardly the first time my shoulder has been dislocated." Festé said, matter-of-factly. "And you popped it back in right away, I'll be fine."

"You can't just write a dislocated shoulder off like that, my love." Astarion gritted out, taking a deep swig of the wine and pressing the bottle into Festé's waiting hand, who swigged as well, chuckling. Astarion looked gutted, reaching out to hold their cheeks as tears welled up in his eyes. "My dearest, I am so sorry- "

"Shh, shh. I know you are, and while a dislocated shoulder has never bothered me before, I forgive you. It was an accident, Star. Please don't beat yourself up, okay?" He nodded at them begrudgingly, reaching for the bottle and setting it on the floor with a soft thud. He sniffled a bit, then slowly lifted his head, smelling the air.

"I nicked you somewhere, dear, probably when I was getting you out. Stay still…" he looked them over carefully and found the cut between their shoulderblades. "Gods below… I can't do anything right, can I?" he chuckled, helping Festé turn around in the tub. He made to pull them to rest against him, but they resisted.

"Wait, I'm bleeding anyway. Take a drink." The tiefling looked over their shoulder and then tried to twist and find the cut themself, wincing in pain before Astarion grabbed them, as gently as possible, shaking his head with a smile.

"Darling, you're hopeless." he whispered, gently pushing them to lean forward as he licked over their back, closing his lips over the cut and sucking softly.

"Yes, but you love me." They laughed, shivering a bit from his cool lips on their heated skin.

He sat up, pulling them close. "Yes, I love you. And you love me."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was over a month before Astarion approached them again. He hadn't been cold, but his touch had been ginger and chaste with them since the first incident. He had also forced Festé to wear their arm in a sling, which the tiefling had rolled their eyes at, but complied. They had even allowed Astarion to wait on them hand and foot for a few weeks, even if it was just to assuage his own guilt.

It was sundown, and Festé was checking themself over in the mirror, poking and prodding at their shoulder and rolling their arm over, listening. They shrugged, satisfied and began to brush out their hair to re-braid it. Astarion's cool palms landed gently on their shoulders, startling them. He chuckled, weaving his fingers into their hair and murmuring softly, "Let me, dear." The tiefling dropped their hands to their lap as he moved his through their hair, enjoying the gentle touch.

"Thank you, love." They looked up at him when he had finished, and he bent down to give them an upside-down kiss, planting a peck on their neck before straightening up.

"It would seem… that your shoulder is healed." Astarion tried and failed at nonchalance. Festé nodded, standing up and swaying with him from side to side. "Would you be so inclined as to let me try tying you up again?"

"Well, since you asked so politely, my love…" the tiefling laughed, resting their hands on his sides. "Where would you like me?"

Astarion steered them back to the bed Festé had vacated not fifteen minutes before, sitting them down with a soft thump. "We should at least keep you comfortable while I figure this out, I don't want you too sore or broken this time." He grinned, albeit a little sheepishly, and knelt up on the bed with Festé.

They tilted their head, watching him as he reached for the hank of rope next to the bed, holding out their wrists for him. He shook his head, holding up the rope and measuring with his eyes. "Let's leave your arms free, just in case, love."

They ended up staying in the bed together for hours, Festé chatting energetically and Astarion listening intently as he tried what felt like hundreds of different ties, smiling to himself all the while.

"If you're a Mephistopheles tiefling, then why aren't you blue?"

"My love, you can't just ask someone why they're not blue. That's offensive." Festé raised their eyebrows and twisting around to look at him.

"I- well, I…" Astarion's hands froze in place as he stammered. He had Festé in a complex tie. They were laying facedown on the bed, their back a map of crossing rope, and their wrists cinched together above the base of their tail.

"Relax, love." They laughed heartily, "I'm joking. I don't actually know, to answer your question. Both of my parents were blue, so maybe I'm a fluke."

Astarion sighed, "Don't scare me like that, you little imp. I thought I actually upset you." He smacked them gently on the ass. "That's interesting though, you're sure neither of them were unfaithful?"

Festé shrugged as well as they could in their position. "I don't think so, but I couldn't ask if I wanted to, they're both…"

"Dead?"

"They are, yes." Astarion picked them up off the bed, and pulled them into a hug, planting a kiss on their cheek.

"I'm sorry, love." He held them close and tight.

"Thank you for saying so," they nuzzled him and yawned. "It was just old age though, nothing extreme."

Astarion started to untie Festé slowly, glancing towards the curtains with a sigh. "It's morning already," he whined theatrically into the back of the imp's neck, slumping against them while he wrapped the rope back up.

"You know what that means? That was, hmm… ten hours of bondage, with no dislocated joints or broken bones." Festé turned, giving their elf a wide grin. "You're an expert now, aren't you?"

"Oh, my dear. If you're wanting to discuss expertise…" he gently pressed them to their back on the bed, kissing up their neck slowly and firmly before nuzzling into their shoulder with a soft hum. "Mmm… darling, may I- " he lifted his head up, biting his lip and chewing it thoughtfully. "I'm feeling…" he shifted on top of them, pressing one thigh between their legs, wrapping his arms around them and trapping them with a roguish chuckle. "I want you," he finished simply.

"Then you have a very willing captive, my love." Festé murmured. "Do you want to get the rope back out?"

Astarion considered it for a moment, moving to kiss his little imp with a slow sigh through his nose before he sat up, smiling at them. "I do, darling."

A/N: hey all, i was really nervous to post this! :'D i don't see a ton of fanfic with named!tav and Astarion, so i'm quite literally sitting here psyching myself up before i post this it makes it really nerve wracking to write some and hope that other people enjoy it anyone coming out of the woodwork with "they're not a weird couple" no they are, Festé is a dipshit (i know, i made them) and they're down bad for this elf. and the canon i could tell you from the days where they were my d&d character is too fruitful and batshit to detail here but the point is they love wet cat men so here we are, let's think of a horrible ship name together, like uhh... "range-roguer"

#.txt #i'm all pointy ears #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named!tav #.fic #baldur's gays #bg3 astarion #astarion #fic: bonding.

[reapers-lover]

See You Again~

Warren Worthington iii x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, yelling, mentions of death and murder but really fluffy at the end.

"What happens when Peter plays a horrible joke on y/n that leaves her sobbing for hours?"

Today was the day Warren was coming back and you couldn't be happier. It had been about 2 weeks since he left to go on a mission with some of the others and you have been counting down the days till he came back.

After an hour or so of waiting the jet had just arrived so you went down to greet them. However when you got there you couldn't see Warren anywhere.

"Peter! Peter, wait!" You yelled. 

He stopped and turned around to look at you. You rarely talked to anyone but Warren, not many people liked you much and Peter was not one who I did either.

"What do you want?" He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Where is Warren? He came with you guys and I don't see him anywhere." You asked, ignoring his annoyed reactions.

"Oh yeah about that, I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this but Warren died."

Your heart sunk to the floor. Dead. Warren, your Warren died. This was his first mission with them and he died. He's gone.

"Sorry again y/n" Peter patted your back then left.

You ran back to your room holding back tears the whole way. As soon as you burst through the door you collapsed onto the ground crying.

He's gone. He's completely gone and he's never coming back. You felt like you couldn't breath like your own sorrow was suffocating you.

Somehow you made it to your bedroom to which you proceeded to sob into your pillow. Your cries were frequent and desperate to be held in his arms again. How could this be? Your Warren is gone.

You cried for what felt like hours but was truly only one when you heard the door outside of your room open. Which was followed by footsteps toward your room then the door opening to reveal a very confused Warren.

You looked up and saw him and nearly screamed. You ran and practically jumped into his arms. Sobbing even harder than before.

" Y/n, darling, what's wrong? What happened baby?" He asked clearly confused as to why you were so upset. He tried to pull away to look at you but you only buried your head deeper into his chest.

He realized he wasn't going to get an answer for a little while so he picked you up and walked over to the bed. He laid down and pulled you tighter into his chest. He sighed lightly and kissed the top of your head.

About 20 minutes later you had calmed down a lot more so he sprung up the question again.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He put his fingers under your chin and lifted it so he could look at you.

You sniffed. "When I went down to go find you after the plane arrived I couldn't see you anywhere. So I a-asked Peter where you were. And he s-said that you d-died." You sobbed into his chest.

Warren gritted his teeth as anger flooded through him. But he kept himself calm enough to comfort you.

"Darling I'm so sorry I wasn't there. They made me stay behind and clean up the jet because my feathers got all over the place. God you didn't deserve that. But I promise I'm right here and I promise not to leave you ok? He was just being an asshole." He said to which you nodded

He sighed again and rested his head on top of yours. "Soon enough we will leave here and go and live someplace better. Where it's just us and no one who would cause us pain. We will go live somewhere where it's more accepted to basically be a bird. He joked, to which you giggled. "Ahh that's what I like to hear darling, please don't cry I promise everything's ok." You nodded and mumbled a quick 'ok'. 

"How about we go pick up some food to eat and bring it back here so we can spend some time alone?" 

"Ok" you mumbled once again.

"You get to choose what we get darling." He said

"Fish and chips."

He laughed "could have guessed. Let me get my jacket and shoes on and then we will go alright?" He asked as he got up from the bed.

"Ok." You replied as you also left the bed. You grabbed your shoes and put them on and when Warren came back he had an extra jacket in his hands.

"Here use this one, I know you like it." He laughed, handing you one of his jackets. You smiled, it was your favorite of his. You put it on then you both walked out the door.

He held you close as you walked down the halls together but as you both got down the stairs and rounded the corner you stopped. Warren's crew were all sitting around a table laughing and joking loudly.

"Yeah dude her face when I told her was hilarious." Peter laughed

"Dammit I wish I could have seen it." Scott whined

Anger filled Warren. He dropped his arm from your shoulder and he stormed over to the table. He grabbed Peter by the color and pushed him back against his chair. 

"Don't you every fucking talk to Y/n again. Do you know how it fucking feels to be told that someone you care about is dead? How would you feel if I did that to you? Do you have any idea how much pain you fucking caused her?" Warren shouted

"Chill out man, it was just a joke nothing serious. " Peter said, rolling his eyes and chuckling. Warren slammed him against his chair again. Peter wheezed from the impact.

"Nothing serious? NOTHING SERIOUS?! That was not a fucking joke asshole! How fucking dare you hurt her! She has been nothing but nice to the lot of you. And yet you all treat her like shit and I'm not having it anymore! She deserves the fucking world and does no need anymore fucking pain in her life! If I found out one you play another joke like that on her I will kill you with my barefucking hands! Do you hear me?!" Warren shouted to which no one responded. "I SAID DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!" He yelled. They all nodded trying their hardest to avoid eye contact with him.

"Good." He said letting go of Peter's shirt. "I quit. We will both be leaving as soon as we find a new place but for now leave us the fuck alone. Come on y/n, let's go." He said. To which you followed. He once again draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you even tighter into his side as you walked away.

"Thank you Warren." You mumbled.

"Oh course darling. I love you." He planted a kiss on the side of your head.

"I love you too."

He smiled. "How about we go get our fish and chips now?"

…

Once you both got your food you walked back to your room and sat down to start eating. Dinner was quiet but not uncomfortable. You were so relieved that Warren was okay that it didn't matter if you were in conversation or not. You were just happy he was there. 

After you finished dinner and cleaned up Warren invited you to take a bath with him to help you both relax. You agreed and followed him into the bathroom.

While he fixed the bath you stripped yourself of your clothes then started lighting some candles so you didn't have to keep the fluorescent bathroom light on. Warren started taking his clothes off and by the time he was done the bath was full and all the candles were lit.

Warren slid into the bath and you quickly followed suit. Once you sat down you sighed and leaned your head back onto Warren's chest. You didn't take baths together often because of Warren wings. Which was also why the bathtub had been put basically in the middle of the bathroom. But when you did you both enjoyed them greatly. 

You helped wash each other. Then when you were done you both carefully got out, dried off and got ready for bed. Warren carefully scooped you up into his arms, carried you to the bedroom and lightly set you down on your shared bed. He quickly slid in next to you and pulled you into his chest.

"I love you y/n so much. I promise not to leave you." He brought your chin up and kissed your lips softly.

You smiled "I love you too Warren, more than anything in the world."

He hummed then brought you back to his chest as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Before you knew it you had quickly fallen asleep to the steady heartbeat of the man you loved most.

Wordcount: 1,480

A/n: thank you if you got this far. I hop yall like the slight bit of content lol. And sorry if you don't like fish and chips. I absolutely adore it. Definitely my favorite food ever so I just went with that lol. Have a lovely rest of your day!<3

#fanfiction #fluff #angst with a happy ending #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #angel #x men #x men movies #x men apocalypse #x reader #what am i doing with my life #warren

[bonefall]

For your most recent post (the one on neurodivergency; absolutely amazing wording and explanation, by the way) do you have any other ideas for more of the “Clan neurodivergency phrases”? They’re so creative and lovely and genuinely I’m kind of obsessed with them <3 - Spotty

I'm flattered! I really do come up with them as I need them though, I don't typically make pre-planned lists to share

But I can describe Squilf?

The way she thinks is like a thousand burrows. She learned that story about WindClan, the Tunnelers, and nothing had ever felt so right before. Did you know there would be months they didn't use a tunnel, only for it to be the one correct path in a sudden moment of great need?

That's how her mind works. There's paths and crossways that connect to each other even though she can only follow one at a time. She's racing down one thought, and the next one intersects in, leading to the final exit far away from where she started. She pops out of a long-abandoned topic, snatching the solution to a vexing problem in her eager jaws

We bury the bones of half-eaten prey. Old bones become dirt. How long does that take? When you bite prey to kill that's seperating the skull from the spine. Stepping stones are like spines. RiverClan fishes on stepping stones, are fish bones as thick as mouse bones? No, she saw on the journey they're much thinner. Old bones become dirt so thinner bones must become dirt quicker...

"We should catch some fish!" She blurts out, snapping back to reality in the middle of the meeting. The garden has been dying since the Great Storm and the catmint's stems have been weak and yellow. Jayfeather's head cocks, Poppyfrost and Briarlight lean in curiously. She continues, "Maybe the dirt is bad. If we catch fish and bury them, they could replace the dirt."

This is for everything. That's how all these little details stay in her head for patrols, why everyone feels so needed when Squirrelflight assigns their duties. Everything connects in some way, and for the things that may slip her mind, her den is littered with figurines and drawings and wool threads that remind her.

We need fish, the lake border may have dead ones on the shore, observant cats: Ferncloud, Poppyfrost, Millie, Rosepetal. Of them; Poppyfrost and Ferncloud aren't squeamish. Poppyfrost, Ferncloud, and Hazeltail for muscle can take the lake patrol. Next.

It took her a while to come into herself, thinking it was embarrassing that she couldn't stay quiet in meetings, or that she was a mess for needing all these toys and strings as a grown cat. But now she realizes a Clan is stronger for the differences of the cats within it.

#Squirrelflight #Neurodivergence #Adhd #Bonefall Rewrite

[bellamy-taft]

Glass Epilogue: Joey

Joey cupped his hand over the phone screen to block some of the sunlight, and leaned closer to watch Serenity’s graduation video. She had worn her hair braided—he’d never seen her wear it that way before now—and when she accepted her diploma, turned to find their mother in the crowd to give a wave.

“Can’t believe you wore heels for it.”

Serenity bumped her swing into his. “Of course I did. I could hardly wear sneakers.”

“Course you could’ve. More comfortable that way.”

“I don’t think the aim of graduating is comfort.”

Joey still drew stares, but he noticed less of them today. Maybe it was because they saw Serenity first and didn’t expect to find of the of DK7 with her.

He hated the name. Hated the label. Hated the reason for being labeled. Hated a man two-months buried.

Or maybe he burned after he fell.

“Tell me Ma treated you to ice cream after.”

“Hardly. I’m now at the age sushi is a more appropriate celebration.”

“Ridiculous.”

They rocked forward and back in silence, toes dragging ground, letting the weight of all Joey had missed hang between them. It wasn’t only that she graduated. He had left her an awkward teen and come back to find his sister a woman. She lived with roommates and worked at the student center around her class schedule. She told him about her strict professors and her dating coworkers and their mother’s new boyfriend.

He couldn’t tell her about the dungeon cell.

The park wasn’t too busy at noon on a Thursday. A few mothers or nannies sat around while children played on the equipment, and Joey wished he had chosen a different time. They weren’t loud enough. There were still too many quiet moments.

“I still wish you’d called to let me know you were moving,” Serenity said. “I would have helped.”

“Me and Trist managed it all. Not like I had anything too big.”

His dad pawned off everything except Joey’s clothes and some odds and ends. Joey could hardly blame him. If his dad disappeared for three years, he wouldn’t have held onto his shit.

He would have liked to keep his deck, though. Even considering the creator.

“Then I could have come for moral support. Made you a moving playlist.”

“You fishing for an invite?” Joey nudged.

“School’s not so far away. I can be here in an hour, anytime.”

He heard the real offer hidden poorly in her tone, and twisted on his swing to face her.

“I’m fine. Really, Ren. Or you just looking for an excuse to pop in on Trist?”

She twisted to face him too, but her expression read of overwhelming frustration.

“You aren’t fine. You still won’t talk about it.”

“What’s there to say? Crazy billionaire played a blame game and we all got caught up in it. Took him out like we always do to those creeps.”

“You were gone for years.”

“Okay, so we didn’t execute as well as we have before. That’s what we get for letting Kaiba take the wheel.”

“Just…give me anything,” Serenity said. “I want to help.”

“Got the shrink for that.”

Although, he hadn’t told her anything about it either. How to explain magic items and a man trying to revive a dead wife to someone trained to tell him it was all in his head? No one was trained to deal with anything like what they’d gone through. He didn’t need someone trying to convince him that the months alone in the dark twisted his mind.

“I’m your sister.” It came out half accusation.

“I don’t know how to explain it anymore than he knew what to do with us,” Joey said. “And I want that time to be over. I need to put it behind me.”

A horn blared from the street and helped keep Joey grounded in the present. Serenity had grown, but she had been safe through it all. She easily could have been another Mokuba. They were on a playground, like old times. The island was far behind him.

He resolved to keep it there.

Her lips tightened, but the frustration shifted into something softer.

“When you’re ready, I’m always here for you.”

“Never doubted it,” Joey said, and gave her a smile he almost believed was real.

#already posted tea and duke #amazingly those were the first two i wrote

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye (part 15)

A/N:  Comments and reblogs are appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts <3

Word Count: 2034

All chapters: MASTERLIST

"No, nononono. Please no."

Daenys reached out to pick up what she had dropped. She could not let the tide wash it away. She could not lose it. It was Arrax. Or what was left of him anyways. A single torn wing, wrapped around a small hand still attached to its wrist. At first, Daenys couldn't even recognize it as it was discoloured from being in the water for gods knew how long. But deep down she knew, for no one had such delicate fingers, such perfect nails. Even in death, despite the purpling skin and missing bits of flesh, Lucerys was beautiful. Daenys squeezed her eyes shut. She could barely remember the day he was born, for she was only five at the time, but she remembered marvelling over his little fingers and their sheer strength as they grabbed and pulled at her hair. She remembered spending hours just watching him wondering how it was even possible for a baby to have such graceful-looking hands. And now, as she held his hand for what she imagined would be the last time, she felt like throwing up. She wanted to lay right there and let the tide carry her to wherever the rest of her brother was. Perhaps she would have too if it wasn't for the persistent voice of the little girl beside her. She had a duty to this child now, and she had to keep her safe. She had to stay alive if not for herself, then for all those who she'd sworn to protect.

"Daenys please, you're scaring me. It's really dark. I think we should go. Put down the dead fish please," Floris pleaded.

"It's not a dead fish..." Daenys's words were barely above a whisper.

"Come on, let's get back to your dragon. We have to go, it's too dark for anything else."

Daenys numbly allowed Floris to lead her out of the water. Her cloak lay forgotten on the sand and she used it to gently wrap up the remains of her brother and his dragon. She clutched the bundle to her chest, wondering if she should just bury it right here. If seeing it hurt her, it would destroy her mother. She decided against it though, because Lucerys Velaryon deserved a proper funeral. He deserved to be sent off to the gods in a manner befitting a true prince. He deserved better.

The journey to Dragonstone was a quiet one, Daenys going through the motions detachedly. Through the haze, she noticed that Floris had remained uncharacteristically quiet, and she felt a stab of guilt. This wasn't an ideal way for the young girl to bid farewell to her home, but this was how it was to be. Night had fully spread its starry cloak across the sky by the time they landed. Daenys was surprised to find her mother waiting for her at the entrance to the castle. She was sitting on one of the benches and she seemed to have fallen asleep. Joffrey was curled up into her side but he was wide awake and when Daenys and Floris came into view he jumped up with a shout. Rhaenyra jolted awake and when she caught sight of her daughter she smiled.

"Mother? What are you doing out here? It's cold, and you should be in bed," concern laced Daenys's voice.

"I just wished to see you. I wanted to be the first one you saw when you returned."

"I see Mother."

"And who is this? You have brought a guest Daenys?" Rhaenyra questioned, bending down to meet Floris's eyes.

Floris took a step back and hid behind Daenys's legs.

"Oh. Yes, this is Floris Baratheon. I apologize for not sending a raven ahead of us, everything just happened quite quickly. Her sister requested that we take her in for the time being as she might be at risk in Storm's End. I can explain the details tomorrow when we are all rested."

Rhaenyra smiled, "Yes of course. It is an honour to host you here Lady Baratheon. I will have the room next to Joffrey's prepared."

Floris gave her a shy smile and bowed her head, "Thank you, my Queen."

Rhaenyra turned her attention to her daughter, "Daenys you don't look so well. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I am quite alright. It has just been a long day."

"And what is that bundle you're holding? Have you decided to bring home a baby too?" Rhaenyra joked.

The corners of Daenys's mouth turned down and her lower lip wobbled. She wordlessly handed her mother her wrapped-up cloak. Rhaenyra took it from her in confusion, wondering what kind of treasure her daughter had brought home that warranted the gentle way she held on to it and the solemn look in her eyes. She mimicked Daenys's delicate touch and unwrapped it.

The stench hit first, pungent like rotten meat with an underlying sickening sweetness. When Rhaenyra finally took a good look at the contents of the package she dropped it and took three hasty steps backward. She looked at her daughter, and the tears in her eyes only confirmed her worst fears. She collapsed.

"Mother!" Daenys surged forward to catch her, gently lowering her to the floor.

"Tell me it is not what I think it is. What I know it to be," Rhaenyra wailed.

"I am sorry Mother. I am so so sorry!"

"When there was no body, I had hoped...I had hoped and I had prayed that somehow he survived. That he would wash up on some shore, unconscious but alive. That my sweet boy would find his way back to me."

Daenys cradleded her mother in her lap, and smoothed the hair back from her forehead. She didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. No way to make this better or more bearable. She kept whispering apologies into her ear, not knowing what exactly it was she was apologizing for. There was so much after all. An apology for not being able to protect him, for not saving him, for not being there, for being married to his killer, for loving his killer, for not slitting Aemond's throat the moment she heard the news. There weren't enough apologies in all the seven kingdoms to atone for everything. The guilt would kill her if she didn't end herself first.

"Mother? What has happened to Mother?" Joffrey's panicked voice came from behind her and Daenys looked up frantically. She could not let him see.

"Mother will be fine Joffrey. She's just a bit tired. Why don't you take Lady Floris to your room until the maids have prepared hers. You can show her your sea shell collection. I'm sure she'd like that," Daenys tried to make her voice sound calm and unbothered.

Joffrey moved toward Floris before his eyes fell on the cloak that Rhaenyra dropped. His curiosity got the better of him and he approached it. His eyes widened and she could see the gears in his head turning as he struggled to make sense of what he saw.

"Luke is dead isn't he?" Joffrey finally asked.

Daenys gave him a tight lipped nod.

"How long. How long has it been? Why didn't you tell me?" his voice grew louder.

"I am sorry. I thought you knew. I thought Mother would have told you. I am sorry."

"They never tell me anything because they think that I am too young. They think that I am too stupid to figure out things on my own!"

"No. I swear, if they didn't tell you, they only wanted to protect you."

"I heard them talking you know. Mother told Luke that his journey would be short... but then he didn't return. It had been days and he didn't return..but I didn't think that he..." Joffrey furiously scrubbed the tears in his eyes with angry fists.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Daenys only knew apologies these days.

There was a fire in Joffrey's eyes that she was afraid of. A frenzy she didn't know could exist.

"I swear upon the gods, I will avenge him. I will go there right this moment and burn them all. I will cut Aemond's heart out and feed it to him!" Joffrey swore terrible oaths in his rage and moved toward the exit, as if to mount his dragon right at that moment and fly to King's Landing.

Daenys stretched out her arm, the one that wasn't wrapped around her mother, and snagged ahold of Joffreys hand. He pulled against her violently and it took all of her strength to hold onto him for she did not know what he would do if she let go. This was too much. All of it was too much and she was overwhelmed. The wailing mother in her lap she tried to comfort and the fuming brother she tried to reign in. And she had forgotten about little Floris Baratheon who stood still in a corner looking like she wanted to disappear, with wide terrified eyes.

"Please Joff. Please stop," she beseeched her brother.

"No! You don't get to tell me what to do! You just want to protect them don't you. Has being married to a monster shifted your loyalties sister? Will you still defend the man who murdered our brother?"

Daenys flinched as if he had slapped her, "You know that isn't true. You of all people know how much I loved Luke. How dare you say that?"

"What is going on here?" came a stern voice.

The commotion had drawn the attention of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys who surveyed the scene they had stumbled upon.

"Is that-" Rhaenys began.

"Don't. Don't ask me what that is. I will lose it if I hear that question again!" Daenys exclaimed.

Rhaenys's eyes softened. She straightened her shoulders and took charge of the situation. Taking Joffrey's hand from Daenys, she pulled him into her arms. He thrashed and put up a fight, still muttering about bloodshed and violence, but eventually he quietened and simply sobbed into her shoulder. She brushed her hands through his hair and when he had quietened down, she wiped the tears from his eyes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"There will be no more of that young prince. You muct have patience. You may have your vengeance in due time but charging there in the heat of the moment will only result in more death. Look at your mother, she wouldn't want to lose you too," Rhaenys spoke sternly.

Lord Corlys reached down and brushed his hair, nodding sagely. Joffrey sniffled and nodded his head. Then he looked at Daenys guiltily.

"I'm sorry I said such terrible things to you. I did not mean them, I swear it!"

Daenys gave him a watery smile, "I know Joff. It's alright."

"You'll forgive me right? Oh say you'll forgive me!"

"There's nothing to forgive. Now take Floris to your room please, and ask the maids to get the one next to yours ready for her. She must be very tired, and I can't imagine all this has helped."

"And...will Mother be alright?"

"Yes. She'll be just fine."

Joffrey made his way to Floris, reaching out his hand which she gingerly took. When he had led her away, everyone's attention finally turned to Rhaenyra. Her wails had quietened to soft whimpers, her face tucked into her daughter's neck. Rhaenys picked up the discarded cloak and tenderly rewrapped its contents.

"Is there to be a funeral then? In the tradition of House Velaryon?" Lord Corlys questioned.

"No!" Rhaenyra had finally gained enough coherence to protest.

"He was a Velaryon. To the sea he belongs and to the sea he should return to," Lord Corlys frowned.

"Let what is left of him be cremated, in the custom of House Targaryen. The sea has already claimed most of him. Let my mother have this please," Daenys tried to placate the Sea Snake.

"Very well. It will be as she wishes."

Just then, a servant came rushing, "A raven has arrived for the Queen. From Prince Consort Daemon."

Everyone looked on curiously Rhaenyra read the message with grim eyes. When she was done she grimly handed it to her daughter and stood up. Whatever was in that letter had given her the strength to gather herself and take her leave.

"An eye for an eye, a son for a son. Lucerys shall be avenged."

_______________

Taglist (comment to be added/removed):

@m1tzifa1ry @blulemonades @bietchz @bugheadskid @applepyesworld  @mrswhitethornbelikov @mysingularitybts @caspianobsessed @lotr-got @theekinslayer  @vaf24 @feiwelinchen @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @hanabbrmpg  @issybee0611 @lyannesworld @moni-cah @akinatrix @carryonmywaywardho  @queenofbeingdepressed   @cateyesinlove @frozenhuntress67  @bregarc @spicykimchii @stargaryenx @linevondensternen @koobratzy

#Aemond x OC #Aemond x Reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen #Daemon Targaryen #lucerys velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon #helaena targaryen #Aegon II Targaryen #alicent hightower #corlys velaryon #princess rhaenys #lovers to enemies #hurt comfort #angst #game of thrones #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd Aemond #joffrey velaryon

[deanwritings]

Night Falls: Chapter 21

 Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.

Word Count: 2,472

Gif:

A/N: Guys, can you believe it. Five years later, I’m dragging you all back to that warehouse where we last left Y/N and Dean. I’m so happy to be coming back to this series and giving it the ending it finally deserves. 

And I know it’s only been 2081 days since the last chapter, so if you need a refresher, the master list is below. 

Night Falls Master List

Dean presses his lips to your temple.

“It’s all over.” He sighs against you, the gun gripped tight in his left hand as he looks over his shoulder to where Crowley lies dead. 

When he saw Crowley stalking towards you, he knew exactly what was going to happen next. And despite his vision starting to swim from the blows to his head, he managed one final right hook to knock the guard out, giving him seconds to hurry to the gun that he had kicked just moments ago and take aim as Crowley placed the barrel of his gun against your head. 

Dean didn’t pause for even a millisecond to try and get a shot off that would only wound Crowley so that Dean could make the arrest and force him to face justice for every single crime he’s committed over the years. In that second, Dean only saw you about to die, and he did the only thing that made sense to him.

With his free hand, Dean reaches into his pocket, fishing around until he finds his phone. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the screen on his phone shattered, the battery destroyed. He looks down to where you’re clinging onto his chest, head buried in his shirt.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean coaxes, his fingers grazing along the part of your jaw that’s unbruised. Your wet Y/E/C eyes look up at him and he gives you a smile despite the pounding of his everything. All he wanted to do was lie down and take a nap, but he had to get the two of you out of here first.

“Any chance you’ve still got that phone you called me on?” Your eyebrows furrow, but before you can answer, the splintering of wood erupts through the warehouse and you flinch, a small gasp escaping you as you somehow push yourself even closer to Dean, his grip around you tightening as his hand that hold the gun raises over your head. Dean’s head whips towards the sound--probably the door he had come through earlier--and his shoulders drop when he hears, “FBI, no one move!” 

A group of agents rounds the corner with Cas taking the lead, his gun scanning the room before his eyes land on Dean and Y/N, taking in their bruised and bloody forms before his steps slow as he notices the bleeding body only feet from them.

“There’s another guy over there,” Dean motions over his shoulder. Cas looks over Dean to the motionless body behind them. Cas’ eyes lock with Dean’s, quietly asking--

“He’s alive.” Dean answers. “Just unconscious.” Cas nods and instructs two of his men over to the body, watching as they turn the man around and check his pulse. 

Cas steps forward and kneels down next to Dean and Y/N, his face softening as he takes in your scraped and swollen cheeks and bleeding lip and nose. 

“Paramedics just arrived,” Cas places a gentle hand on your shoulder that Dean’s not holding. “Just hang on a few minute more minutes, Y/N.” You nod, your head, brushing against Dean’s chest as you let out a sigh, your body drooping with exhaustion. You turn your face, hiding in Dean’s shirt as you close your eyes, your entire body throbbing to the beat of your unsteady heartbeat. Your breaths are ragged from the adrenaline and Dean’s arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you into him, tucking your head under his chin, hoping to bring you some comfort.  

“Just hang in there a little while more, sweetheart.” Dean’s voice vibrates in his chest. “You’re almost there.” You just nod again, your voice nowhere to be found. 

It only takes a few minutes before several paramedics rush in with two gurneys, Cas making sure they get to you first before Crowley’s man who is starting to wake up. 

One of the paramedics, a woman who doesn’t look much older than you, coaxes you away from Dean so she can take in your injuries. She immediately places a piece of gauze to your head, causing you to wince. 

With Dean’s help, they each hold onto your arms as they lift you to stand before sitting you onto the gurney. Your eyes stare into nothing as they settle you into the seat. 

The other paramedic, an older gentleman who looks like he’s close to retiring calls for your attention and holds a finger up, making you follow his movements while shining a light in your eyes that makes you cringe. Dean isn’t a doctor, but he can tell you have a concession. Hell, he probably has one himself considering his vision was still swimming. But he swallows down the nausea knowing the job isn’t over just yet.  

“Dean,” a hand lands on his shoulder, causing him to turn and find his partner. 

Dean just lets out a breathy laugh and pulls Cas into a tight hug, squeezing his friend’s shoulders as he pats him on the back.

“How’d the hell you figure it out?” Dean asks as he pulls away. A smile breaks onto Cas’ lips and he looks away for a moment before looking back at Dean.

“Some of us actually act like the agents we are and look up where we’re going before we get there.” Cas scolds, though his tone is light. “After you texted me, I did a quick search and found that this address was a shipping, storage yard. There’s no reason--no good reason--” Cas catches. “For Y/N to want to meet you here. 

"Well God damn do I owe you one, Cas." Cas just smiles and Dean glances over his shoulder to where the paramedics are taking your blood pressure and cleaning the blood away from your face.

Dean's face falls again as the younger paramedics unfolds a splint and gently wraps it around your ankle, causing you to hiss and grip at the gurney's sheets.

Dean's lips set in a hard line.

"What happened to the two agents watching her?" Dean asks, not looking away from you as your body relaxes and your head leans back against the inclined rest, your eyes closing. Though he doesn’t miss the quiver in your lips. 

Cas takes a deep breath and his shoulders fall.

"Both were shot while sitting in front of her apartment. DOA." Dean's eyes close and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows tightly, once more pushing down the bile churning in his stomach. 

This should never have happened. But Crowley once again played the game better, even if Dean did win.

"Where--"

"Someone mind telling me what the hell happened here?" Bobby's voice cuts through the quiet chatter of the busy warehouse.

All eyes land on him as he strides into the room, his eyes scanning the area, taking in Crowley's body, now covered in a blue sheet, and seemingly figuring out his own question before anyone's had a chance to speak.

Cas takes a deep breath.

"I'll handle him," Cas gives Dean a pat on the shoulder before approaching their boss.

Dean chances a look over towards the two men, Bobby’s face is neutral as Castiel explains what he knows. 

Dean turns away from them at the sound of metal slapping into place. The paramedics had locked your gurney into place with you now fully reclined and were wheeling you out towards the door he had first walked into when he entered this nightmare. 

Taking a glance at his boss and partner, he hurries over to the stretcher, coming alongside of it and keeping pace with the EMTs. Your head is turned away, eyes open as you quietly watch the blank walls until your back out into the cool spring air and rushed to the awaiting ambulance. 

“You coming with her?” The older EMT asks, as they prepare to lift you into the truck.

The question seems to snap you back to reality and your eyes find Dean’s. He offers you a small smile. 

“Can’t risk letting her out of my sight again.” This gets a ghost of a smile, the first emotion he’s seen since Crowley died in front of you, and tears suddenly form in your eyes. 

The EMT nods and the two paramedics smoothly lift your stretcher into the truck and secure you in place before Dean hops in alongside you. The older gentleman heads around front to the driver’s seat while the young woman begins hooking you up to an IV. Dean takes the free jump seat towards the back doors and settles in, letting out a deep breath as he leans his pounding head against the cool metal and closes his eyes. Finally, he can relax. 

The ambulance roars to life, sirens wailing and tires squealing as they speed out of the parking lot. 

The paramedic places a blanket over you, and for the first time since Crowley died in front of your eyes, you finally felt yourself coming back to your body. 

It’s like everything that had happened after that was a vision, like you were watching from above instead of alongside Dean. You barely recall the FBI or paramedics showing up, but now, in the safety and warmth of the ambulances, you felt yourself returning. 

You look over to Dean, his eyes closed and body relaxed against the bouncing walls of the truck.

“How are you feeling?” The woman asks you. You stare up at her, unsure what to say.

Traumatized. But she wouldn’t be able to help you with that. You would definitely need to find a good therapist once this was all over. 

“Okay,” you say weakly. The woman nods and looks at the heart rate monitor, writing something down on a pad. 

You look over to Dean again, your brow furrowing as you notice his body slightly slumped into himself. Something didn’t look right. 

“Dean?” You sit up a little, getting the attention of the paramedic.

“Ma’am, please lay down.” She orders, placing a soft hand on your chest, but you ignore her as your words go unnoticed.

“Dean.” You try again, louder, in case your voice was too quiet the first time. But your voice just echoes through the quiet cab. 

This time, the paramedic follows your gaze to the unmoving agent.

“Sir?” She calls out loudly, still getting no response. You push yourself up onto your elbows as she scoots across the truck.

“Dean!” You try again, your heart rate monitor suddenly crying out as your pulse spikes. 

The paramedic kneels next to Dean, placing two fingers to his neck as she looks at her wrist watch.

“What’s going on back there?” The driver yells over his shoulder.

The paramedic quickly removes her fingers from Dean’s neck, now cupping his throat as her hands move up and behind his head. One of her gloved hands pulls away, revealing a bright red sheen.

“Shit,” she murmurs, quickly discarding the glove to the floor and pulling out a penlight. 

“What’s happening?” You call over to her as she lifts Dean’s closed eye lid, your stomach tightening as she shines the light into nothing but the white of his eyes. 

“Chris, need you to radio to med and let them know we have an unconscious male. Blow to the back of the head and is unresponsive to light stimuli.” The woman calls up calmly to her partner. 

You hear the man behind you rely the message to someone, but you’re frozen in your seat as the woman places a piece of gauze behind Dean’s head. 

You suddenly remember the pistol whip he took when he first entered the warehouse.

“They hit him with a gun,” the woman looks over to you and nods.

“What else?” 

You close your eyes. Everything seems like a blur at the time. And you had tried hard not to watch, not wanting to see the pain you had inflicted on Dean by tricking him there. Your stomach twists at the thought. 

What if he died because of you? Because you were too much of a coward that you had to risk his life instead of your own? 

“Ma’am!” Your eyes shoot open as the paramedic stares you down, one hand holding the back of Dean’s head.

“Uh,” you swallow. “He got kicked in the ribs and back, then he and the other guy were fighting, but I couldn’t see what was happening.” She nods and turns her attention back to Dean.

“Three minutes out, Kara.” The man, Chris, yells from the front of the truck. The woman just nods as your hands come to your face, covering your eyes.

“This is all my fault,” you whisper, warm tears pooling into your palms, not being able to stand the night of Dean unconscious in front of you. Unconscious because of you. Your heart begins to pound and your monitor rings in your ears as your breathes become ragged.

“Ma’am,” Kara calls out to you, but you don’t hear her. “Ma’am!” Her stern voice forces you to look up from your shelter.

“I’m going to need you to pull yourself together because at the moment, I need to keep my attention on him and I can’t have you set yourself off into a panic attack. Do you understand.” She orders with calculation. 

You nod and take a deep breath as she looks back to Dean, keeping his head upright as the ambulance jostles around you. 

You need to pull yourself together, if nothing but for Dean’s sake. 

Breathe in 1-2-3-4.You take a deep breath. Hold 1-2-3-4-5-6-7. Release 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. You breathe out through your mouth. 

You close your eyes, not wanting to look at Dean’s lifeless form, and continue breathing until you feel the vehicle come to a stop.

You open your eyes as the back doors are ripped open and a team of medical personal are waiting with a fresh stretcher. 

Two men jump in, holding onto Dean as they carefully begin moving his stiff body until he’s on the gurney. 

You catch a cry try to escape your throat at the sight, but you push it back down. You refuse to be a distraction. 

Once he’s securely on, the medical team whisks him away, disappearing through the automatic doors of the ER and out of sight. 

Kara jumps back into the truck with you as two men in scrubs approach the open doors of the ambulance.

“Is he going to be okay?” You ask quietly as she starts to unhook your stretcher from whatever was keeping you in place on the drive over. 

She doesn’t look up at you, just continues her task until the stretcher shakes free of it’s confines and she starts pushing you towards the edge of the doors where the two awaiting techs help lower your gurney to the asphalt. 

Your question goes unanswered as you’re wheeled into the hospital, the whooshing of the automatic doors your only response. 

Chapter 22

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean reader insert #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #night falls #chapter 21

[yalocalfanficaddict]

*vibrating to the point of combusting over the need to write something and title it with a Hozier song/lyric*

Ayo, new music obsession just dropped! Here's a random prompt list of Hozier stuff because my mind is rotting! Anything with Pt 1 and Pt 2 beside it, is just complimentary titles for potential series titles.

Take me to church:

Giggle At A Funeral

Born Sick

Like A Dog At The Shrine

Offer Me Your Deathless Death

Take Me To Church (A lil obvious with this one, but just imagine the Corpse Bride AU's)

My Lover's The Sunlight (Pt 1)

She Demands A Sacrifice (Pt 2)

This is Hungry Work

No Masters Or Kings (Pt 1)

When The Ritual Begins (Pt 2)

THERE IS NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN (THE ANGST FOR THIS ONE *folds*)

Let Me Give You My Life

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene:

Toying Somewhere Between Love And Abuse (Please just hit me with the back of a metal chair) (and by metal chair I mean angst)

The Wretched And Joyful

Shaking The Wings Of Their Terrible Youth (Arch-angels? Anybody?)

Freshly Disowned...Frozen Devotion

Sweetened Breath And Tongue So Mean (Removed pronouns for inclusivity)

Feeling More Human

I Lay My Heart Down (Pt 1)

It's Bloody It's Raw, But I Swear It's Sweet (Pt 2)

Wonder If Better Now Having Survived (Pt 1)

I'm Alive (Pt 2)

Jackie and Wilson:

From Behind The Red In My Eyes (Literally any character with red eyes will rule this title)

No Better Version Of Me

Most Familiar of Swine (Enemies to Lovers WHERE YOU AT??)

Wretched And Divine (I don't watch Good Omens, but think of the potential!!!!)

Laughing Away Through My Feeble Disguise

Found Me Just In Time

My Mid-Youth Crisis All Said And Done (Pt 1)

Never Felt So Young (Pt 2)

Call Me "Baby"

Hands Through My Hair

Soothe Me Daily

Raise 'Em On Rhythm And Blues

It'd Be Great To Find A Place We Could Escape Sometime

Dead And Buried In The Yard Outside

Watch The World Go By (Pt 1)

Watch It Burn And Rust (Pt 2)

It Wasn't For Us (Pt 3????)

Cut Clean From The Dream (Childhood Friends To Strangers???)

Let My Mind Reset

Looking Up From A Cigarette

Someone New:

Don't Take This The Wrong Way

You Knew Who I Was (Pt 1)

Every Step I Ran To You (Pt 2)

Electing Strange Perfections

Just A Little Ol' Little Bit

Everyday With Someone New (Here me out...Soulmate AU)

(There's An) Art To Life's Distractions (Pt 1)

The Art Of Scraping Through (Pt 2)

Some Like To Imagine

I Guess Any Thrill Will Do (Grumpy x Sunshine adventure!)

My Heart's Already Sinned

How Pure, How Sweet A Love

'Cause God Knows I Fall In Love (Denial for their feelings >>>)

The Stranger The Better

To Be Alone:

Never Feel Too Good In Crowds (Angst? Trauma Recovery?)

Crude And Proud Creatures Baying

All I've Ever Done Is Hide

When You Kill The Lights And Kiss My Eyes (FORBIDDEN LOVERS!!!!!)

I Feel Like A Person For A Moment Of My Life (Pt 1)

But You Don't Know What Hell You Put Me Through (Pt 2)

Kiss The Skin That Crawls From You

Oh, To Be Alone With You (Pt 1)

Questions I Can't Ask (Pt 2)

At Last, The Worst Is Over (BANANA FISH IF THEY HAD A HAPPY ENDING) (I'M SOBBING)

Not A Trace Of Me Would Argue (Whipped characters be like)

We Should Run Away

From Eden:

Something So Tragic About You (Please combine the next few lines as Pt 1s, 2s, 3s, etc. as you see fit!)

Something So Magic About You

Something Lonesome About You

Something Wholesome About You

Get Closer To Me

No Time For Me

You're Familiar Like My Mirror Years Ago

Idealism Sits In Prison

Chivalry Fell On It's Sword

Innocence Died Screaming

Something So Wretched About This (Hozier's favourite word unlocked lol)

Where To Begin?

What A Sin

To Hang From A Tree

In a Week (Ft. Karen Cowley):

I Have Never Known Peace

Like These Insects That Feast On Me

Our Heartbeats Becoming Slow

(We Lay Here) For Years Or For Hours (HANAHAKI WRITERS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT)

Two Corpses We Were (Pt1)

Two Corpses I Saw (Pt 2)

I'd Be Home With You (Could be used as a Hurt/Comfort or a Hurt/No Comfort)

The Slumber That Creeps To Me

I Have Never Known Color (Soulmate AU!!)

Flesh Calmly Going Cold

Your Hand In My Hand

So Still And Discreet

When The Weather Gets Hot

After The Foxes Have Known Our Taste (Pt 1)

After The Raven Has Had It's Say (Pt 2)

Sedated:

Just A Little Rush

To Feel Dizzy, To Derail The Mind

My Heart's In Atrophy

Nursing On A Poison That Never Stung (Pt 1)

Our Teeth And Lungs Are Lined From The Scum Of It (Pt 2)

We Are Deaf (Pt 1)

We Are Numb (Pt 2)

Something Isn't Right (Trapped in an Alternate Universe, anyone?)

Little Words

Slaves To Any Semblance Of Touch (Touched Starved Character's are gonna have a field day with this one lol)

We Should Quit But We Love It So Much (Never meant to be romances >>>)

Come And Save Me From It? (THE QUESTION MARK IS WHAT MAKES ME GO FERAL AHSBWBEDKSI)

Drag Me Away From It

Work Song:

Workin' On Empty

I Just Think About My Baby

I Could Barely Eat

Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

Once From The Cherry Tree

Give Me Toothaches Just From Kissin' Me

When My Time Comes Around (Pt 1)

Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth (Pt 2) (THE ANGSSTTTTT)

Three Days On Drunken Sin (We aaaall know the smut writers will have a field day with this one, haha!)

An Empty Crib

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down

What My Hands And My Body Done

If The Lord Don't Forgive Me

Heaven And Hell Were Words To Me

Like Real People Do:

Why Were You Digging? (Pt 1)

What Did You Bury (Pt 2)

Those Hands Pulled Me From The Earth

(I Will Not Ask You) Where You Came From

Kiss Like Real People Do (AHKUDHUSdHBE JUST IMAGINE THE POTENTIAL-)

Eyes Always Seeking

In Some Sad Way, I Already Know

It Will Come Back:

You Know Better, Babe

Talk To It Like That (My mind went STRAIGHT to the gutter when I read it out of context)

Don't Give It A Hand, Offer A Soul

Leave It To The Land

Don't Let It In With No Intentions To Keep It

It Will Come Back

Smile At Me Like That

Hold Me

I'm Something Else When I See You (Myyy heaaart!!! Grumpy x Sunshine title for sure!!)

You Don't Understand, You Should Never Know

How Easy You Are To Need

It Can't Be Unlearned

The Warmth Of Your Doorways

Oh, Please, Give Me Mercy No More (WHUMP POTENTIAL!!!)

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Howling Outside Your Door

Foreigner's God:

Moved In Shameless Wonder

The Perfect Creature Rarely Seen

When The Land Was Godless And Free

Into The Empty Parts Of Me

My Heart Is Heavy

Always A Well Dressed Fraud

Never For Me

The Purest Expression Of Grief (HEAR ME OUT!! HEAR ME OUT!!)

Tender Charm

The Broken Love I Made To Them (Changed pronouns for inclusivity!)

Foreign To Me

Cherry Wine:

Eyes And Words Are So Icy

Like Rum On A Fire

Hot And Fast And Angry (Mad smut mad smut mad smut mad smut mad-)

I Walk My Days On A Wire

Oh Mama, Don't Fuss Over Me

The Blood Is Rare And Sweet As Cherry Wine (*glances at the Twilight fandom nervously*)

The Sheets Of Some Other

But I Want It, It's A Crime

Not Around Most Of The Time

I'm Their's And They're Mine (Inclusivity!!)

Fight And Fury Is Fiery

Loves Like Sleep To The Freezing

Sweet And Right And Merciful

It's Worth It (Pt 1)

It's Divine (Pt 2)

In The Woods Somewhere:

My Head Was Warm, My Skin Was Soaked

When I Awoke, The Moon Still Hung

The Darkness Hummed

I Prayed My Mind Be Good To Me

Into The Trees With Empty Hands

His Bone Exposed, His Hind Was Lame, I Raise A Stone To End His Pain (A lil long, but I think it sounds nice✨)

What Caused The Wound?

To Save A Life I Didn't Have

Forgot All Prayers Of Joining You

My Dearest Love, I'm Not Done Yet

Something In The Woods Somewhere

Run:

Rare Is This Love, Keep It Covered (FORBIDDEN LOVERS!!! I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL OF THIS BEING THE BEST TROPE)

Run To Me, Lover

Until You Feel Your Lungs Bleeding (HANAHAKI?? HANAHAKI!!)

To Be Twisted By Something (A knife? A rope? Possibilities are endless!)

A Shame Without A Sin

Rushing To The Shore To Meet

#fic titles #title suggestions #title ideas #title prompt #hozier #take me to church #angel of small death and the codeine scene #jackie and wilson #someone new #to be alone #from eden #in a week #sedated #work song #like real people do #it will come back #foreigner's god #cherry wine #in the woods somewhere #run

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

At that time Herod the tetrarch heard the reports about Jesus and said to his servants, “This is John the Baptist; he has risen from the dead! That is why miraculous powers are at work in him.”

Now Herod had arrested John and bound him and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because John had been telling him, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” Although Herod wanted to kill John, he was afraid of the people, because they regarded John as a prophet.

On Herod’s birthday, however, the daughter of Herodias danced before them and pleased Herod so much that he promised with an oath to give to her whatever she asked.

Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.”

The king was grieved, but because of his oaths and his guests, he ordered that her wish be granted and sent to have John beheaded in the prison.

John’s head was brought in on a platter and presented to the girl, who carried it to her mother.

Then John’s disciples came and took his body and buried it. And they went and informed Jesus.

When Jesus heard about John, He withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. But the crowds found out about it and followed Him on foot from the towns. When He stepped ashore and saw a large crowd, He had compassion on them and healed their sick.

When evening came, the disciples came to Him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the hour is already late. Dismiss the crowds so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”

“They do not need to go away,” Jesus replied. “You give them something to eat.”

“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

“Bring them here to Me,” Jesus said. And He directed the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, He spoke a blessing. Then He broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people.

They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. About five thousand men were fed, in addition to women and children.

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of Him to the other side, while He dismissed the crowds. After He had sent them away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone, but the boat was already far from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

During the fourth watch of the night, Jesus went out to them, walking on the sea. When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost!” they said, and cried out in fear.

But Jesus spoke up at once: “Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid.”

“Lord, if it is You,” Peter replied, “command me to come to You on the water.”

“Come,” said Jesus.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the strength of the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus reached out His hand and took hold of Peter. “You of little faith,” He said, “why did you doubt?”

And when they had climbed back into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, “Truly You are the Son of God!”

When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret. And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding region. People brought all the sick to Him and begged Him just to let them touch the fringe of His cloak. And all who touched Him were healed.

[kraekat29]

Paper Rings- Chapter Fifty

The closer they got to the top of the hill, the more blood they found smeared on trees, it was unsettling.

Ruby was worried, could the blood be John B’s? And if it was, was he alive or dead? Her mind was swarming with questions.

Finally, they arrived to the near top of the hill, pausing to get a drink and relax for a few moments.

Only relaxation was short lived as a loud explosion went off, making everyone jump and look for where it came from.

“We gotta move. Now.” Ruby said, tossing her water bottle into her bag, “baby wait-“ JJ tried but she was already moving, determined to find her brother.

The others followed after her, Ruby’s eyes scanning the area as her hand hovered over the machete holder on her hip, ready to grab it at any second.

They got to the top and heard yelling, moving to hide behind some bushes and rocks, Ruby motioning for everyone to keep quiet.

JJ poked his head up, seeing Sage, John B and Big John, across from them was Ward and Sarah.

Ruby shared a look with JJ, Ward was out of his mind, there’s no way Sarah would willingly be with him right now, they needed to help.

The others looked over at them and Ruby nodded once to herself, she couldn’t let anything happen to the people she loved.

She grabbed her machete, “P4L..?” She said quietly, “ P4L baby..” JJ said, the others joining in.

It happened in a flash, they all ran out and surrounded Ward, Ruby’s eyes frantically searching the area as she took everyone in.

She tightened her grip on the handle as one of Singh’s men came out, everyone tensing.

Ruby’s breath hitched at the sight of the gold in Sage’s hand, the two shared a look and she shook her head, silently telling her not to give it up.

John B’s gaze was hard, it was clear he was terrified but desperately trying not to show it, he was trying to be the strong one.

Ruby swallowed hard as the gun was pointed at her, reaching back and tightly holding JJ’s hand.

She squeezed her eyes shut, four shots were fired- she only opened her eyes when she heard JJ yell, then saw Sarah looking into the ditch in shock.

Ruby didn’t know where to look, at JJ or at Ward who had just given his life for hers, unable to focus as the others went to help her dad.

On the way back down she patched up JJ’s arm the best she could, more concerned about him even as they got back in the boat.

“Butterfly.. come here..” Big John said and she looked over, “I’m sorry.. I was a terrible father to you..” He said, “I wasn’t exactly the best daughter..” Ruby said quietly.

“You see that boy over there..? Don’t let him go..” Big John said, looking over at JJ, “I won’t..” Ruby said and let John B have his moment.

Everything went quiet after, and Ruby took John B in her arms, holding her twin as he sobbed, her own tears streaming down her face.

They went back and buried their father, also allowing Sarah a moment with Ward the best they could.

They all stood in front of the tree, Ruby kissing the spot where JJ had been shot in the arm.

They’d never felt this low before.

********

Eighteen months later

They all sat on the deck of city hall, they’d all changed and matured in some way.

JJ and Ruby were now married, she’d ended up having twins, Dallas and Delilah Maybank.

After the ceremony Ruby stood at the table with JJ, the two sharing a joint while everyone else mingled.

They all had turned out successful, JJ and Ruby ran charters and owned a surf shop, John B owned a fishing boat and Sage was going to nursing school.

Sarah helped out at the surf shop a lot and would watch the twins, Pope was leaving for college in a few months, Cleo was still working for the Heyward’s and Kiara was saving turtles.

“So, we did it” JJ said, blowing out smoke and passing her the joint, “it feels weird to have everyone liking us” Ruby said and took a hit.

He chuckled and pulled her against his side, the two of them watching Mrs. Heyward play with the twins.

John B motioned for them to come over, everyone standing around the table and looking at the old man.

Pope grabbed the diary and read, looking at the others in shock and wonder, it was about Blackbeard.

They all shared a look, JJ looking down at Ruby with a smirk and kissing her head.

Here we go again.

#jj maybank #ruby routledge #john b routledge #sage medici #kiara carrera #pope heyward #cleo obx #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #jj maybank smut #obx #obx fic #outer banks

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

Four Snippets

Four snippets from today’s instadrabbling in the SWG discord. Two Elwing ones, one post-Third Kinslaying and one War of Wrath one

On Ao3

Prompt:

“People rescue each other. They build shelters and community kitchens and ways to deal with lost children and eventually rebuild one way or another.” ― Rebecca Solnit

“That is not how you clean fish.”

Idril turned around to see a girl about her son’s age, something eerie in her large, dark eyes. The Doriathrim princess, she realized. She hadn’t had the chance to meet her yet.

“This is how my father did it over the Grinding Ice,” she said.

“Well, there is an easier way. But I don’t suppose you would know, being a princess.”

“Aren’t you a princess too?”

“Yes,” the girl agreed. “But here, it doesn’t matter much. We all have to do our share of work.”

Idril smiled. The girl didn’t smile back, but something in her posture relaxed.

“Will you show me how to do it then?” Idril asked. “Princess…”

“Elwing,” Elwing said, “and I will.”

On Ao3

Prompt: gift-giving

A prize it is, her father claimed, for love and for courage.

A bounty it is, her guardians insisted, to bring safety and prosperity to her people.

A gift it is, her husband believed, from the Powers beyond the Sea to protect her and their children.

A curse it is, Maedhros Fëanorion wrote, and it will bring her nothing but misery.

It is nothing more but a weight on her chest as Elwing jumps to her death.

On Ao3

Prompt: clean up

It had been weeks, but the stench of blood and smoke still clung to the streets. Neither Gil-galad nor Círdan had left the Havens. Along with his people, Círdan put out fires, tended to the wounded and looked for survivors.  

He saw Gil-galad approach from the shore, and for a moment, he was glad for the opportunity to take a break until he remembered what it entailed.

Gil-galad’s task was to look for and bury the dead.

“Did you find her?” Círdan asked.

Gil-galad shook his head. “The current must have carried her away.”

This was not the time to mourn, Círdan reminded himself. This was not the time to remember the frightened little girl who hadn’t even learned to talk properly when Círdan first met her. This was not the time to think how the grief of losing his wife would break Eärendil.

“What about the children?” Gil-galad asked.

“Not a trace. You… have not found them either, have you?”

Relief and horror warred against each other on Gil-galad’s face as he shook his head. Stars, he was almost a child himself! Too young for such a responsibility.

“Ereinion,” Círdan said. “You need to rest. I will continue the search instead of you.”

“No,” Gil-galad said with the steely resolve of a king. “It is my duty. After all, my people bear the responsibility for this atrocity.”

On Ao3

Prompt:

The death of Ancalagon the Black was a disaster not only for Morgoth but for entire Beleriand. As he fell, the ground shook and broke, rivers of fire sprang up from the cracks, ash and smoke shrouded the bright stars. Elf and orc alike were buried under the ruins of the falling Thangorodrim.

It was a victory, but it tasted like defeat.

And yet, as the great dragon breathed its last fiery breath, the flames leaped high enough to reach the Silmaril in the heavens. The firework of the joint lights seemed fair to the survivors. Thus, amid death and destruction, hope and beauty were found.

#silmarillion #idril #elwing #cirdan #gil-galad #ancalagon #silm fic #first time participating in this #zwc fic

[wandering-wolf23]

5). To Be a Queen (Middle Grade Lion fiction)?

To Be a Queen is basically my love letter to early 2010s Lion King fanfic. Especially all the fan prides made and RP sites that ended in ".webs.com". I don't think that Webs is really a thing anymore - IIRC, it's basically been deleted. There's a lot of lost media from those that would make for interesting reading if anyone ever finds it. TBaQ is my take on Simba's story, but Simba is a girl (Jasiri) and her pride has been invaded by an outside force. Baya, who is basically an older, slightly healthier Nuka, winds up finding her and helps her get her pride back. Along the way, they fall in love.

The snippet (actually half of Ch 4):

Jasiri dragged herself into another crevice, grimacing as she did so. She hadn’t realized she was so hurt until a few days after the fact. Aches and pains stabbed all over her body, from the tip of her tail to the cuts on her paw pads. Even her mouth tasted like copper. Jasiri coughed and wiped her muzzle on her fur. Then she lay down again, her golden gaze focused on the sky. Unease rippled across her. It buried itself deep in her fur and bit her skin like a wood ant.

She didn’t like being alone. A lioness in a pride was never left to herself. There was always at least one other with her. Sometimes they might be an aunt, a sister, a friend, or even a low-ranking male assigned to guard them. At the time, Jasiri hated it. Even now, the thought of that suffocating closeness made her growl. Jasiri swallowed it back. She forced a neutral look on her face as she watched the grasslands. Baya and Dani had to get back soon, right? They wouldn’t just leave her here, not after all the trouble they took to get her over here.

“Baya?” a new voice called. “Baya!”

Jasiri tensed. She pressed her belly to the stone and slowly extended her claws.

Footsteps came closer to her. She could barely see a cat, prowling on the other side of the rock. It was too small to be a lion (maybe it was a marozi? Jasiri thought they were all dead, though) and the flashes of fur she saw were cream and red rather than brown.

“Oh, confound it all!” the intruder said. They sighed. “Where is that lion? I’ll even settle for Dani at this point!”

Jasiri kept quiet. She dragged herself up so she sat on her haunches and waited. Seconds dragged by like hours. A few flies buzzed around her, their annoying sound nearly drowning out anything else. Jasiri stayed quiet. She waited, her ears trembling, for the intruder to come near her. If it was a marozi, Jasiri intended to pounce first and ask questions never. She bared her teeth in anticipation, even as her heart pounded. Exhaustion threatened to drag her back to the ground. Jasiri fought it off and steeled herself for the coming fight.

The intruder walked around the rock, saw her, and froze. Jasiri stared back. The red leopard’s mouth dropped open and his tail fell straight down.

“Baya has a girlfriend?” he asked. “I thought he and Dani were a thing.”

“Who are you?” Jasiri asked.

“Touko.” Touko sat down and licked his chest. “I, uh, was looking for my friend.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Jasiri didn’t sit and bared her fangs. “Now what do you want?”

“Uh, I want to know where Baya is?” Touko asked. His tail gestured wildly as he spoke. “We were supposed to go fishing. But he’s nowhere to be found and I really don’t want to go swimming without a backup, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Jasiri hissed. “Next time, be careful. I thought you were a marozi.”

Touko stared at her, confusion in his golden eyes. “A what now?”

“Marozi.” Jasiri grimaced. “They’re not very nice. It’s like a nasty lion had a baby with a nastier leopardess.”

Touko nodded like he understood. “Right… I’ll just wait up here, I guess. I am not walking back to the river. Not in this heat.”

#dispatches #original content? on this blog? #kiri rambles #tag games! #to be a queen #lion king inspired

[bucket-barnes]

What's this? Chapter one of lost boy?!

I'm almost done with chapter two so as a little easter treat, here's the full first chapter of lost boy- the descendants/gossip girl 21 crossover fic

Chapter one: Uma

Chapter one: Uma

Honestly, the past week couldn’t have gone worse for Uma and Gil.

Ever since the barrier around the isle of the lost was taken down, a new villain was trying to stage a coup every other day. It was manageable though, and the problem was being solved as laws were put in place in an attempt to stop these impertinent villains 

But then Harry went missing 

They were dealing with none other than Uma’s own mother, Ursula. She said something about Auradon being weak because of their insistence on believing in “true love” and the rest was a blur…but by the time they all came back to…all that was left of Harry was his silver hook. No one was actually sure if he died, search parties were sent all around Auradon to try and find him, the brave ones went to Neverland to see if the sea witch stashed him with the lost boys but, no one could find him…so they had to assume

Harry Hook was dead…and there wasn’t even a body to bury. An empty grave, marked by the Hook family crest and a headstone, was plotted just off the shore, inscribed 

Harrison Liam Hook

Son, Brother, First mate

It was the first time anyone ever saw Captain Hook cry, the usually psychotic and drunken lunatic was in tears for his son…his only son, presumed dead. First his wife, now his boy. Uma couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the old pirate, Harry was her first mate, partner in crime, her best friend. They would both die and kill for each other, no questions asked…and now he’s gone, a…a lost boy, never to be seen again. Uma looked to Gil who was barely holding back tears, she took his hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze 

“It’s ok…we’ll find him”

She tried to comfort, but Gil looked like he had lost hope

“We looked everywhere…”

He whimpered

“And we’re not giving up. He’s out there, I know it”

Uma insisted, her free hand traveling to her belt where she kept Harry’s hook

“We’ll find him”

The days passed by, and Uma had the lost revenge crew working overtime for any signs that Harry was still out there, though most of them had come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t coming back, they just didn’t dare to go against their captain’s orders. They’d search high and low, always checking two to three extra times…no sign. Uma always kept Gil with her while they searched, always going to places where Ursula would be both likely and unlikely to stash a hostage. The chip shop's storage room, her old grotto, Atlantica’s seaside shipyard, anywhere and everywhere and still nothing. It got bad enough that Gil punched a wall in frustration, something he wasn’t proud of…made him feel like his dad in a bad way. One night, they were searching down by the shore, walking over to the empty grave of their lover, at least if they couldn’t find him, they could still say hello. They stood at the grave hand-in-hand, as usual…nothing was there but the Hook crest and the stone

“Hi, Harry”

Gil said with a sigh. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a silver pocket watch, he held it in his palm for a moment before placing it at the base of the stone, joining the rest of the small trinkets left there in the pirate’s honor

“...please come home”

He whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek. Uma also had an offering, three pearls she tied together with a thin piece of twine, one for each of them. She twirled the pearls between her fingers and watched the moonlight shimmer off their surfaces. She liked how the pearls felt between her fingers, smooth and cold like marble. They made her think of Harry, the way his hair would blow in the breeze, the way his eyes would sparkle when on the water, even his maniacal laugh. While lost in her thoughts, she pressed too hard on the twine and it snapped, sending one of the pearls rolling into the water, never to be seen again…

“How apt”

Uma sighed. She placed the remaining pearls on the base of the grave, kissed her fingers, then touched them to the grave

“Come on, Gil…let’s go”

Uma and Gil turned away to walk back to ship empty handed when they heard…twinkling? They turned around to see the ocean illuminated teal and flecks of glitter flying off the surface

“That…wasn’t there before”

Gil pointed at the water as his eyes went wide 

“You don’t say”

Uma said to her boyfriend sarcastically. She stared into the water and couldn’t help but feel…drawn to it. Uma let go of Gil’s hand and walked toward the water, as she got closer, the teal faded from her hair and she seemed…less magical

“Uma?”

She heard Gil call out, she didn’t answer, she simply kept walking toward the water, which was beginning to steam

“Uma!”Gil ran after her, but also ran into her, sending them both crashing into the mysterious mystery water in a flurry of bubbles and screams

#disney descendants #harry hook #disney #descendants 3 #gil descendants #descendants 2 #ben descendants #carlos descendants #evie descendants #jay descendants #uma daughter of ursula #sea three #gossip girl reboot #gossip girl #max wolfe #descendants fanfiction #descendants fandom #mal descendants #crossover