#jacks writing

[ballparkscubicle]

Bond

Rowan and Warren dynamic thingy

CW drug addiction

Rowan was a holy terror. He fought everyone around him if he could. Now, he was predictable. His annoyances and few likes were easy to foresee. Making things simpler for Warren to care for his King. Being four years Rowan’s senior meant nothing, not when Warren had taken great care to raise him. Warren had taught the seven year old everything that was useful from a life in the pleasure district. 

Now, he watched Rowan become enamored with two gutter punk mercenaries. Much too similar to how he’d come to work in the castle. It wasn’t that Warren cared for the two young men. Not by a mile. They were a danger to his King. He could not let them get any closer.

Despite being taken in by a noble family and forced into lessons that helped him in his journey to becoming Rowan’s royal advisor saving him. He had no care for the job; only Rowan. This care was why he didn’t want Adonis and Arlo to have become so important to Rowan. If they became important then they would surely be the death of him.

“Sire, I suggest you come in. It's quite cold out.” Warren suggested gently. Rowan didn’t even look at him. “It would be a shame for you to catch a cold.” He hated Adonis and Arlo. The street rats were causing his King to put himself into unsafe situations. “Rowan…” 

“I want to see that my knight has returned safely before I rest.” He remained with his back to Warren. 

“I understand, but what use is their return being safe if you are not?” This was his courtier tone. It was only used with Rowan if he was being difficult about his safety. “I cannot let you suffer." 

“I don’t care.” 

“I do,” Warren sighed. “I care for you more than my job requires. You know that.” He hoped it made an impact on Rowan. He needed it to make an impact.

“Oh joy,” Rowan mocked tiredly. None of the usual sadistic joy in his tone. “I told you my plans. By all means, make your own. Don’t let me hold you back.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I really don’t need you here for this.”

“You have no protection if I leave.” Warren would be damned if he left Rowan on his own unguarded. While Rowan was inhumanly strong and fast, his stamina would only allow him to fight for about ten to seventeen minutes. “You know the Church would have my head on a silver platter if you even so much as scraped your knee after I left you.” 

“Hold your tongue if you wish to stay.” Rowan relented. Warren smiled fondly. “Stop with that dopey look.” HIs king was not accustomed to genuine affection, but that was okay. “You stink of opium.” Rowan added the jab in a weak attempt to wound the courtier. It of course did not work. It never did. 

“I know,” Warren chuckled. He’d had a love affair with his sweet poppy mistress even since he could remember. Rowan hated the scent and what opium represented to him personally, but despite the pain it caused his king, Warren couldn’t break it off. As much as he hated it, the substance was something he needed. 

“Oh—I see the torches of their company!" Rowan began to move forward. Warren reached out to snatch his arm. “Unhand me—”

“Let them come to you, my Lord,” Warren soothed. “They are still a ways out—you shouldn’t tire yourself out walking to them.” He also didn’t care to see Adonis and Arlo yet. The mere thought of seeing the man he raised lose all inhibitions around two people that could ruin him was agony. 

Rowan was all Warren had anymore. His King meant more than his own life. Nothing would harm him if he had his way. Nothing would take his life sooner than what was planned. If he could stop the Church from the sacrifice of Rowan, he would. However, even then if he weren’t killed, he’d lose himself to the curse. Warren couldn’t bear the thought of his King slowly slipping away and forgetting himself.

“Why not come in and wait by the fire? I will keep watch and as soon as I see them close enough, I will bring you to them,” He offered an olive branch, in hopes of Rowan taking it.

“…okay,” Rowan murmured. Placing a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, Warren carefully guided him to the watch tower’s interior. Sitting Rowan down by the fire pit, he draped a woolen blanket over him. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, Rowan.” Warren couldn't help the soft smile that spread on his lips. “I’ll go keep watch.” 

“Wait… stay with me—he can keep watch and tell you.” Pointing at a guard, the King averted his gaze. 

Warren knew Rowan well enough to see how vulnerable his King felt. “Of course, Sire. I will stay as long as you will have me.” Sitting next to him, the courtier was surprised when Rowan offered him part of the blanket. Giddiness filled him. Whenever he was accepted by his boy, Warren’s heart would soar. 

Silently he joined Rowan under the blanket. Relaxing further when a head rested on his shoulder. This was all that Warren lived for. This trust between him and Rowan. It was something rarer than any spice or gem. It was his.

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

Finally got around to finish editing the first chapter

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[cryptid-jack]

Veilguard Timeline

The End of the Beginning Game start quest chasing down and confront Solas In Entropy’s Grasp Run into the veil jumpers for the first time an

So this is a work in progress as I do my second playthrough, but my sequence accuracy obsessed ass needs a proper timeline for future fanfic writing purposes-- so I'm making one! Figured other freakspeople might want such a thing as well so here's a link to a google doc that I'll be updating as I go.

For the time being I'm just focusing on adding Story and Companion quests but I'll probably add in the faction stuff later. The descriptions are just a rough outline for the purpose of jogging your memory so you know what quest summary to look up on the wiki or wherever.

Edit: nvm I literally just went back and added all the other quests too X'D

[punkwyrm]

Hello yugioh fandom, I come bearing a prideshipping fic offering. First two chapters are up on AO3, and I'll be posting one chapter a week over the next five until all seven are posted. If you read it, I hope you enjoy!

TITLE: Never Felt More Alive

SUMMARY:

Dark Side of Dimensions Epilogue.

Seto finds life on Earth tiresome and dull without his rival. The same one who he never got the chance to defeat in a duel. So, if the pharaoh won't come to him, he'll go to the pharaoh. No matter what it takes.

Atem struggles to adjust to his new life. Being back with his ancient friends has been wonderful, but he can't help but feel something is missing. And then his favourite rival shows up on his doorstep.

PREVIEW:

Atem wandered the palace, arms folded behind his back. At his side, Mana chattered about what he’d missed. Three thousand years meant there was a lot to catch up on. She’d spent the past six months filling him in, with plenty more to go. He could hardly believe it had already been six months. Time passed strangely in Aaru. He’d fought hard to keep track. Wanted to be aware of the amount of time that had passed in the real world. Of how long those left behind had been without him. The brief visit he’d made to help keep the darkness at bay once again hadn’t been nearly enough. He wished he could have spent more time with all of them. Yugi, of course, Jonouchi, Anzu, Honda, and…Kaiba. It felt rude to leave without a word to him. Especially after all the effort he went through to reassemble his puzzle.

A valiant effort truly. Maybe he really could have solved it. If anyone other than Yugi could, he was certain it’d be Kaiba. The man was certainly determined enough. “Atem!” Mana poked his cheek. “Have you listened to a word I said?”

He blinked and refocused on her. “Sorry…got distracted.”

She rolled her eyes. Pulled them both to a stop. Crossed her arms, skewering him under a critical eye. “You’ve been weird ever since you got back.” She paused and added, “Again.” He shrugged, but she wasn’t done. “You didn’t have to destroy the puzzle.” “I did,” Atem said. Looked past her at the sand dunes out the window. They rolled like ocean waves beyond the palace and phantom recreation of Khemet. “I can’t have anyone messing with those items anymore. It only leads to trouble.” He threw out his arm. “I mean, look at what just happened!” Mana shrugged. “I guess.” She kept a critical eye on him. “I just hate seeing you so sad.”

Atem scoffed. “I’m not sad. What reason would I have to be sad? I’m finally here, back with all of you. Where I’m meant to be.”

“I agree, but you’ve been moping nonstop the last six months. The first real excitement I’ve seen out of you was when we realized the puzzle was being reassembled. You leapt at the possibility of returning to the living world.” “Yugi was in trouble. They all were. It’s my duty to protect them.”  “Sure. Whatever you say. Keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m not-”

“My lord?” Karim said. “Apologies for the interruption.”

Atem withheld a sigh at the formality and faced him. Smiled at his old friend. “Yes?”

“There’s…someone approaching the palace.”

“Someone?” How was that possible? No one could enter this realm without his knowledge. “Do we know who?”

“It looks like…Seto Kaiba, my king.”

Read more:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66659989

[berserkstuffandmore]

For the Departed (WIP)

This fic is based on my Apostle Casca au: Blood Raven & Hellhound. It's hopefully going to be a comprehensive character study of Casca, facing certain things I doubt we'll ever see her face in canon. I'm hoping to be able to write more soon.

CW: violence, referenced CSA, and child abuse.

“Miss, take me with you!” The pale, bloodied, and beaten boy clinging to Casca’s cape begged with tears running down his face. “They—they’ll hang me!” His left eye was swollen shut. ”I can do anything for you!” The blood caked in his wheat gold hair was a mix of his own and that of the man he killed. “Please take me with you!” His voice broke as his malnourished body shook with violent, choking gasps.

“You can come, but you must pull your weight.”

“Thank you!” His good eye, a striking amber, sparkled with hope and gratitude.

“Here, we gotta go,” Casca grunted roughly as she grabbed his small hand. She couldn’t look at the boy as he limped beside her. It was obvious this lad was a rent boy. The man he killed was his master. 

They had walked briskly in silence for about a block before shouting was heard. No doubt the man’s body was found. 

“Shit…” Casca muttered as the boy locked up before his knees buckled. “C’mon, kid, we don’t have time for this!” She yanked him forward. Serving only to get his shaking form to fall forward limply. “Kid! Get up or we’re both in trouble!” 

“I-I can’t! My legs—they won’t work,” The boy answered, hysterical with fear. He began to cry again.

Casca groaned and quickly scooped the boy up and ran. The pounding of her heart drowned out the sounds of her boots on the wet cobblestone. She cursed the noble who flaked on her. 

If the bag of lard hadn’t pussed out, she wouldn’t have been wandering the streets. If she hadn’t been wandering the streets, she wouldn’t have been caught in the rain. If she hadn’t been caught in the fucking rain, she wouldn’t have searched for shelter and found the rent boy being beaten within an inch of his life. And if she hadn’t found this damn kid, she wouldn’t have given him the means to kill his master, putting her in this situation!

The shouting had long since faded, but she kept running. Running helped her get out her anger. It wasn’t as good as fighting, but it would do. The boy was clinging to her, arms wrapped so tightly around her neck it should’ve cut off air flow. It didn’t matter to Casca. No human, let alone a boy, could come near killing her, not anymore.

They were back at the inn where Casca was staying far too soon. She kept the boy in her arms as she requested her horse. If she set him down and lost him, he could be found and killed. Then all this would be for nothing.

Her stallion, a black barb, was brought to her, and she immediately set the boy in the saddle before mounting behind him. Then she dug her spurs into the beast’s sides and let out the command to go. They tore out of the town.

The sky was blue-gray and still heavy with clouds. It could start raining again at any moment. Unfavorable, to say the least. It would take a couple of hours to get back to her men. Well, it would’ve if the downpour hadn’t begun.

“We can’t keep going in this weather… Shit, we’ll take shelter in the forest.” There was no reason for her to say this out loud, other than that Casca was used to giving orders. It was hard the first time she had been a commander, all those years ago. Before the Eclipse. Before she became a monster herself.

“Okay.” The boy answered in a timid voice, causing the woman to look over her shoulder at him in surprise. “I–I’m sorry!” He flinched and covered his face.

“Don’t apologize for no reason,” Casca had to focus not to snap at him. “For the first thing you do for me, I want you to only apologize if you hurt someone or break something. Okay?” 

The constant, needless apologies would drive her up the wall. The kid nodded despite still looking scared. They were quiet as Casca got off the horse and led it into the forest. Once under enough cover, she helped the boy down.

“It’s too wet to start a fire, so the canopy is all we’ll have.” The kid nodded and huddled up against the trunk of an oak. He was shivering so much that his teeth were chattering. Sighing, Casca undid her cape and walked over to him, dropping it in his lap. “It’s not dry, but it’s better than nothing,” She offered. The boy was silent, his good eye widened, and he sniffled before bursting into tears. “Hey! Hey! Are you okay?” Casca knelt in front of him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Y–yeah, I just—no one’s ever been this nice to me,” The boy blubbered.

“What’s your name?” Casca couldn’t let herself dwell on his words.

“It’s Von, but I don't get called it often…” He mumbled absently as he wrapped the crimson cape around his shoulders. “Can, can I keep this? It’s so soft!” Von’s good eye was shining while he snuggled into the oddly enough rough fabric. “Are you a knight?” He looked at her curiously. 

“No, no, not me. I’m a mercenary.” 

“Really? What’s that like?” Von asked excitedly. “Wait! Am I a mercenary now?” The wide amber eye sparkled as it seemingly looked into Casca’s soul. “But I don’t know how to wield a sword…” He frowned. “B-but I can learn!” Von quickly corrected himself, clearly scared of her discarding him.

[dawnfromzero]

33. a kiss that shocks the receiver ✨ ✨

(originally from this post )

What had started out as a good day had turned great when Erend wrapped up a patrol through the city (had to keep the Vanguard on their toes even in peace time, after all) just in time to run into Aloy, freshly returned to Meridian from the wilds to restock and check in on a few friends (himself included, he was pleased to be informed). Great had turned to excellent when the huntress had immediately agreed to his suggestion that they grab a meal and a drink (or two, or three) and fallen into step with him, a smile on her lovely, freckled face, as though there were nothing in the world she would rather be doing in that moment.

It was enough to make Erend’s stomach flip and his heart flutter, but then Aloy always had that effect on him. One smile was all it took to have him wrapped around her finger, and a single word to bring him running. Better men had been ruined by less, but for all her strength, Aloy was a gentle hand with the people who loved her, thank his lucky stars. The Oseram were well known for the durability of their armor and the strength of their weapons, but Erend had no defenses when it came to the huntress that had so easily snared his heart, and he’d rather bare his throat to her than ever raise a hand in her direction.

The sun fell and as the night finally brought a reprieve to the blistering heat of the day, Erend coaxed Aloy into a walk along the canals. It took surprisingly little effort on his part, and the man wasn’t sure if that last pint of ale had given his already silver tongue an extra edge, or if it had simply made his lovely companion more amenable to distraction; he wasn’t about to question his good luck either way.

Conversation flowed easily as they walked side-by-side under the pale light of the moon, and Erend’s heart felt lighter than it had in ages as he watched Aloy throw her head back and laugh at his latest tale, red hair cascading down her back in heavy waves the man longed to run his fingers through. He knew he was grinning like a besotted idiot, but he allowed himself the luxury of watching her for a moment longer, at least until she got herself back under control and looked at him again, tears of mirth in her bright eyes. Erend turned his face from her in hopes of schooling his expression into something less obvious, one hand absently smoothing his mustache to disguise the infatuated curve of his lips.

Distracted as he was, Erend was caught off guard when he turned back to look at Aloy and found her significantly closer than she had been the moment before, scant inches between their bodies. The shock of it made the man inhale sharply, filling his nose with the scent of her; the ale they’d just drank, the leather of her tunic, and a pleasant blend of herbs and flowers he couldn’t begin to identify. Rattled, heart pounding frantically behind his ribs, Erend tried to ask what she was doing, but the words wouldn’t come, seemingly dried up at the source, and only retreating further when he saw her gaze drop from his eyes, to his lips, and then back up again.

Aloy closed the remaining distance between them, hands lighting on his chest for support as she went up on her toes to catch his lips with hers and Erend wondered if he hadn’t had too much to drink after all and was passed out face down in his pillow at home. That’s usually the sort of circumstances he wound up having these dreams in, after all. But then, he didn’t think he had the imagination to fabricate the way her fingers felt as they curled into the fabric of his shirt, or the pleasant solidity of her body pressed flush against his.

The kiss was forthright and sincere as the woman herself was; inexpert but tender, and completely breathtaking. So much so that Erend forgot to breathe at all until Aloy broke contact, settling back on her heels once more, flushed and pensive as the vanguardsman finally managed to take a ragged, unsteady breath. He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but only managed a croak, making the pretty redhead lift a brow and purse her (wonderfully soft) lips in an attempt to school her expression. She withdrew her hands from his chest and Erend immediately missed them, kicking himself mentally to say something, say anything before she wound up with the wrong damn idea-

“I-… why?” he finally managed to say, voice rough, but a long sight better than the croak that had escaped him a moment before. It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, but it was the one ricocheting most violently around his, ecstatic, if bewildered, brain like a charger in a pottery shop.

Aloy’s other brow went up to match the first, then relaxed again as she studied his face, seeming to search for the reason behind his question. He had no idea if she found her answer, but after a moment, direct as ever, she answered,  “I like your mouth.”

Erend blinked. “You… like my mouth,” he repeated dumbly, completely thrown by her unexpected answer.

She nodded, the blush across her freckled cheeks deepening under his regard and, possibly for the first time, her gaze darted nervously away from his. “You know-” Aloy tried again, gesturing helplessly towards his face as she glanced back up at him from under her lashes. “-the shape of your lips. The way they move when you talk. How you, uh… smile. I like it.” The huntress recovered enough then to lift her chin in silent challenge and met his gaze once more, as if daring him to laugh at her.

He didn’t of course. Erend was too busy marveling that Aloy had somehow managed to make him love her even more, though if you’d asked him five minutes earlier, he would have claimed that such a feat was impossible.

Still, he was mischievous by nature and, despite feeling like his heart might give out at any moment, Erend couldn’t help but ask, “Oh yeah? What about the rest of me?”

Aloy scowled and he smiled, unable to resist doing so any more than the sun could cease rising in the east. He half expected her to call him a chuff, but instead, she went quiet for a moment, then crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I like that too. For some reason.” Erend’s smile widened into an outright grin and she quickly added, “All-mother only knows why, th-”

This time, it was the huntress caught off guard as her would-be prey stepped in close and silenced her with another kiss. Erend didn’t wrap his arms around her out of concern that he might scare her off (or get punched), though that didn’t stop him resting one hand along her jaw so he could sweep the pad of his thumb across the swell of her cheek. Aloy was totally still for a moment, long enough that Erend nearly pulled away, worried that he’d misread her, but then her lips were moving against his, mimicking the gentle coaxing movement of his own. He’d long suspected Aloy was inexperienced, but as in everything the woman put her mind to, she was a quick study, and it wasn’t long before Erend found himself questioning his initial assessment on the matter.

They parted after a minute and Erend knew he was grinning like a fool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Aloy was smiling right back at him; sweet and shy but thoroughly pleased with herself.

“I like your mouth too, just for the record,” he informed her.

Aloy laughed, then got an impish look in her eye that made Erend’s heart leap alarmingly and beat a frantic tattoo against the inside of his chest. “Good thing,” she said, then planted her palms on his chest and pushed gently so the man was forced to take a step back, and then another, until he found himself pressed up against the nearest wall. Erend swallowed thickly, all his funny, clever words leaving him again as Aloy regarded him almost hungrily, and he wondered at his good luck as her hands slid up to his shoulders until her arms could wind around his neck and pull him down into another kiss. It was deeper this time, more demanding, but as he slipped his arms around Aloy’s waist and pulled her in flush against him, she found Erend was more than happy to give the woman he loved everything she wanted and more. 

[ballparkscubicle]

Rowan x Arlo One Shot

Gays

"You’re too gentle,” Rowan grumbled as he sat still while Arlo carefully worked the dead feathers out of his wings.

“You don’t like the sensations that come with a heavy hand.” Arlo’s answer was short, but genial. The man knew how to get around Rowan’s moods. Which only served to irritate the god more. “I know, I know, but I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

“Arlo—”

“Rowan, we’ve danced around this subject every time it comes up,” Arlo sighed. “I don’t want to do that today, and I know you don’t either.” Arlo was right. He was right and Rowan hated it. “It’s okay. I’m tired, too.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Rowan muttered. It was true. He felt nothing.

“I know… but I can sense it—if you lay down I guarantee you would fall asleep.” The smile could be heard in Arlo’s voice. His hands never stopped. With controlled movements, the man smoothed the feathers after finishing the preening.

“You must think me a petulant child…” Rowan looked down at his scaled hands. His twitching fingers ended in wicked talons. Weapons that could shred most anything, yet, he didn’t use them as often as he once had.

“Heh, I don't think that of you,” Arlo chuckled, lightly. “I know who you are… I know how you are—you are strong, even when you don’t need to be.” Rowan tenssed. “All I think is that you need to rest.”

“Yeah…”

“I would lay with you, if that would… if that would help,” Arlo offered hesitantly. Rowan knew the man didn't like sleeping around others. If someone he was near had strong negative emotions, Arlo would have intense night terrors.

“You don't need to do that to yourself,” Rowan muttered. “It's not worth it.” He was not worth it. 

“You are—”

“Arlo,” Rowan hissed. “If you want to have nightmares so much, go sleep with Adonis.” 

“I—I've had his nightmares… I want to have yours if that means I can help you.” He was assertive. A rare occasion. The man was hardly one to rock the boat.

“Hmph, you are a sorry fool,” Rowan muttered. 

“It would seem so.” He could hear Arlo’s smile. “I’ve always been a fool for you.”

[punkwyrm]

Chapter 4 of Never Felt More Alive is now live ! We've reached the beginning of my favourite parts in the fic so i hope you all enjoy too!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66659989/chapters/173199535