#and then i let them out to play at night. they run around having a ball for like 15 minutes. and then sparrow breaks back INTO her cage

[fishnapple]

How will they protect the relationship

(lover/partner/future spouse) - Channelled message

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

Sometimes, I fear that you will get used to our relationship to the point of boredom, that our relationship will become just a habit, a routine that you do everyday, mechanically, without enthusiasm or passion. That fear crept in my mind, taking roots, and there will be moments when I let it grow and poke its branches out. Imaginary scenarios swirl in my mind, threatening to spiral out of control.

But I will snap out of it in no time. I'm a master at bringing myself out of the dark, I'm a good runner, running in the night long enough, and you're bound to see the sun rise again. I will try to look at myself first, from an objective lens, to find where I can change, what baggage I need to get rid of. Then I will look at our relationship, I will find a way to lift it up, make it exciting again. Do you like puzzles? Do you like sculpting? Would you like to try a new recipe? Let's forget for a moment all our adult responsibilities and be free. To be excited teenagers again, falling in love for the first time again. I will write you love letters full of typos, sending you half-baked cakes and cringy T-shirts, you will laugh and you will join me.

I do notice that there are some people around us, people who shouldn't come that close, who shouldn't be there at all. They don't understand the concept of respecting other people's boundaries. They will try to turn a blind eye to our commitment, pretend that it doesn't exist. Blatantly coming in without knocking, thinking that they can just take you away from me and me from you. They think that their tactics are subtle enough, that in time, they can corrode our bond. Little touches here and there, the gaze, the "innocent" banters. I can see them all, I will try to put a distance between me and them, so I hope you will do that too, I also hope that you will patiently listen to me when I warn you of those people. Yes, sometimes you will have to call me a possessive person. I just want to shut out everyone dare to threaten us, to find a place where only us exist. But that's impossible, I know, so the best I can do is tell them off as clear as possible, trying to show that we're together, there's no space between us. Let them be jealous, we just need to focus on us and walk away, hand in hand.

GROUP 2

I know we have a lot of unspoken words stuck inside. The silence between can sometimes grow to such a suffocating weight, pushing us down, deeper and deeper into our own abyss.

We both will be so uncertain of our future together, where will we go, is there a place strong enough to shelter us, are we strong enough? We hope for the same things, we are so alike, even our fears are alike, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this.

Our bond will be tested numerous times. There will be a time when we've almost given up, but fate or whatever higher powers are at play here, will bring us back together, anew and ready to try again. I wasn't a spiritual person, but by being with you, being in this relationship, I began to believe in something intangible, in the unknown, it scared me, but all I can do is to move forward, with you, and that's where our fears begin. We move forward together, into the unknown future that holds no concrete promise.

Then I realised we've forgotten to remember where we've put our wishes in, what we've wished for. If we can just remember, then there's no point in worrying. I will give you a hint: it's a wish that spans from the past to the future. We felt like we've known each other for a long time when we first met, and I believe we will be in each other's lives for the far future to see. That belief alone is enough for me to feel brave. And I will sit down, take out my pens and notebook, and begin to scribble down the plan, the path for us, give voice to the stuck words inside, air them out. I will show you that plan and tell you to not worry about the future, instead just focus on this current life in front of us, we got this, believe in us.

GROUP 3

Sometimes, I think that we are two pieces of puzzles fit perfectly together. If not, then there's no way to explain how you have everything I lack, and I, in turn, have an abundance of things that you don't. We have our fair share of issues that alone, we seem to lack the strength to tackle them, but together, they seem so silly and easy. You can be the wind and I will be the pipes, you can be the water and I will be the pump. Now that sounds silly, but you get my gist. There will be times when you cry, I will be there, holding you close and being the cool headed one to make logical decisions. There will be times when I'm so down, you will be there, holding me close and being the soft pillow that raises my head up.

There will be problems, from inside and outside, but I believe we can weather them all. The problems will mainly come from the place of insecurities and misunderstanding. People's words can be cutting and unintentionally hurtful, sometimes intentionally. They sow the seeds of doubts inside our minds. But let's believe in the visions of ourselves and of each other. We see ourselves best. We will sit down, talk it all out, there's no barrier between us. I'm proud of our direct and open way of communicating. I can always count on us to be rational and discuss things until we can reach a solution. Yes, there might be tears and angry voices here and there, but they are the minority and will go away quickly. We're too sure of our commitment and ourselves to let those bother us for too long.

Whatever action needed to be taken, it would be taken swiftly. If it's required of me to be cutting something, somebody out of our life, I will do it, no hesitation. Because I trust in our judgement. And if it's required to move, I will move. I'm afraid distance will be our biggest hurdle. But we will find a way to be closer. Many things will need to be changed, our jobs, our homes. But we won't fear changes. Because changes will bring us to a better future.

GROUP 4

I want to prepare you beforehand, our relationship will be scrutinised by a lot of people. It's not like we are celebrities or anything. Why do they have to care so much? I honestly don't know and don't care either. Our bond just attracts a lot of jealousy and objections. The idea of us together will piss people off. They want something, a fixed future for us, they expect it, but then they have to watch a totally different outcome, surprises, surprises.

Particularly those who have authority over us, they're supposed to be the wise guidance, the benevolent power that can protect us, but they will turn their backs on us, worse, they will turn their sneering gaze and contemptuous words on us. That can't be helped, I guess, we're the rebels, we go against their rules and expectations. I know you will want our bond to be blessed by those around us, I want it too, but reality is something we will have to face. At first, we may even have to hide our love, it's frustrating.

Don't worry, I will be strong for us, you won't even have to fight anything, just let me take care of it. I have enough strength to do that. Don't picture the image of me making a foray against them like a bull thrusting its horn angrily. I have enough wit not to do that, just like how I've charmed you with my words, I can do it too, to other people, the people who are against us. If it doesn't work, then I will just be my best, showing them how much of a good life I'm having with you. In the end, I just don't really care. We have our love and that's enough. We can always move away, to a better place. You will be surprised just how much freedom we do have.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 🍎

My personal headcanons for Boyfriend!Caleb after what I've seen and read about his character so far. A/N: All my ride or die Caleb girlies if you disagree with anything on this list im not going to argue with you please don't take my word as law. I love y'all dont fight me 💋 feel free to add more in the replies ‼️MDNI‼️ + cw: quick mention of cnc & primal play

[SFW]

wants to be in your skin wrapped around your nervous system and nestled in the wrinkles of your brain ; if this man could glue you to him he would

remembers everything that happened to him and mc when they were lab rats as kids which is probably where his mental health started rapidly declining

Cuddles ! ; he’ll also cuddle you while youre asleep constantly ; doesn’t matter if you’re in his bed, the guest bed or your bed he’ll climb right in and snuggle up

leaves you bowls/plates of fresh fruit and a glass of water on your nightstand

doing backflips if you tell him he can wash your hair for you ; the longer it takes the better

monitors your social media and online presence “You shouldn't post that no one needs to see you naked” “Im wearing a bikini Caleb” “Basically naked”

big on taking photos he wants as many photos together as possible

movie nights and date nights are his shit he’ll alway be down for that ; if you two have a show you watch together he is genuinely hurt if you watch an episode without him

holds your hand even when you don’t want him to ; would quite literally use his evol to hold your hand in place

if you’re sick he's at your bedside 24/7 with medication and home cooked remedies ; will spoon feed you if you let him

uses his body as a wall in large crowds to keep people from bumping into you

will beat the brakes off of anyone who dares to even look at you sideways and when you ask him what he did he’ll lie and smile in your face

PINKY PROMISES ARE LAW

will take you everywhere with him and will also follow you anywhere ; he’d stand guard outside of the bathroom stall if he could

although he does have some bolts rattling around (because they’re not loose they’re fully free) he will pamper the hell out of you ; he’s running you a bath, rubbing your feet and cooking dinner so you have a relaxed night and warm meal

when you do help him cook he’ll stand behind you and cover your hand with his while he guides your hand with the knife

will hold anything you hand him while he’s on the phone

has an entire closet of all the gifts you’ve ever given him

the type to close the door and immediately lock it if you’re in a room alone with him

hates to argue with you ; he’ll do it, but he regrets it afterwards apologizes profusely later with your favorites foods, sweets, treats and things

has to get a kiss before he leaves ; he’s not leaving without it

the type to wrap your arms around his neck when he goes in for a kiss

loves caging you between his arms and his body at any given chance

has to be touching you in some kind of way

the type to tuck you in every night

loves to give you massages because he loves touching you

[NSFW]

needs you to use your words “tell me how you want it” “don’t cover your mouth” “tell me you missed me” “how much?” “right there or right here? Tell me” “open your mouth” “how much do you love me?” “are you all mine? say it”

records your moans so he can listen to them later

pretty panty lover ; buys you lots of them ; loves to have you model them and you’re getting dicked down if you’re walking around the house in them

takes you anyway he can ; favorite position? ALL OF EM mans brain turns to mush just having his hand on you ; a dom that will punish you, but gives stellar aftercare

loves to tease you by getting you wet and just rubbing his tip over the fabric ; slides the panties to the side instead of taking them off because he loves to see them on you

a vocal moaner and a yapper when he nuts ; nuts inside every time makes him feel like he’s claiming you

Intentionally fails no nut November and says “we’ll try again tomorrow” turns you every way but loose for the entire month

massages your thighs and coochie so he can watch his cum drip out of you

a slurper and moaner when he eats it ; eats the pussy and the ass

puts the colonel hat on you

100% into cnc & somnophilia I will not argue with anyone about this ; not a fan of dacryphilia he hates to see you cry

you have to have a safe word because he gets pussydrunk extremely easily

panty stealer ; keeps a pair in his pocket when he goes to work ; clean or dirty doesn’t matter to him

into primal play would chase you through the woods in the Rina Kent - God of War mask and rearrange your guts right there with pleasure

would get jealous of your vibrator/dildo

[angelfic]

dc vs vampires!dick grayson x reader

warnings — mentions of death, weapons, blood, vampire dick duh. unedited as per usual my bad

a/n; vampire dick gets me going like no other so let me know if i should make this a series… a more fleshed out series or just more drabbles (does this count as a drabble?) idk im asking the audience

dc vs vampires!DICK GRAYSON who allows you to stay human, as a kindness.

you try your best to hide from him, camping out in different bunkers every few months all over blüdhaven with groups of other survivors. the resistance is slowly dwindling and you know of other groups littered around, hearing tales of how each of them are being turned, imprisoned or simply wiped out.

you know he’s sparing you and the people you’re with to play with your mind. he doesn’t truly care for them, and all he wants to do with you is own you like he does the rest of his followers.

you know this, because he comes to visit you in the dead of night when you’re alone.

“hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice as smooth as ever, but you listen intently for the dangerous edge that wasn’t there before.

he steps forward and your stomach swoops as it does every time you see the startling red of his eyes that seem to glow in the flickering light of your room. you instinctively grab the knife tucked away in the waistband of your pyjamas, unsheathing it and gripping it tightly as you raise it in front of him.

“stay back,” you warn, unable to say his name.

he glances down at your knife, and grins wolfishly, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. “hot,” he whispers, taking a step toward you unflinchingly. “you know i always did love seeing you with a weapon. never thought you’d be turning it on me though…”

he sighs deeply, as if suffering from temporary amnesia. you shake your head, slowly backing up. “you’re insane. you know exactly why. i just don’t understand why you don’t just kill me like you’ve done all the rest.”

dick’s smirk falters for a moment, but his confidence doesn’t waver. “kill you?” he echoes, advancing further. “no, no, i saved you. i could have turned you that night, but i didn’t. because i wanted you to choose, sweetheart.”

“choose?” you hiss, gripping your weapon tighter. “to become one of them? to join you in slaughtering humanity? the same humanity you once loved.”

his expression remains blank, and your heart clenches at the fact that he’s unaffected by your words. he doesn’t care because he physically can’t anymore.

“you’re thinking too small,” he says softly. “humanity was always heading in this direction… all i’ve done is speed it up. i can control it now. no more of the depravity we used to witness, we can be so much stronger. especially with you by my side.”

“yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “me at your side, watching you rule over everything like some kind of God?”

the next step he takes has you frozen. his presence was overwhelming and you’re paralysed by the way his gaze softens even though you know that every move is calculated. “i don’t want to be a God,” he murmurs, cold fingers reaching down to brush gently up your forearm, making you shiver. “i just want you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the chest and all you can do is stare at him. he’s terrifying, but so, so beautiful. you’re sickened by the thoughts running through your head and you screw your eyes shut.

dick takes the opportunity to reach up with his other hand to brush your hair away from your neck, leaning in to inhale deeply.

too late, you realise, his fangs are out as they’re hovering over your throat, threatening to break skin and allow your blood to flow onto his tongue. he always talks about how sweet you’d taste, how badly he wants to drink from you. you don’t bother stopping him — you couldn’t if you tried. surprisingly, he seems content with just staying there and you find your voice eventually.

“stop it,” you whisper, voice trembling. “stop trying to mess with me. i know who you are now and it isn’t the man i loved.”

dick lifts his head, not bothering to increase the distance between the two of you, allowing you to see the way his expression turns troubled. “i’m still me,” he mutters, careful not to let his fangs show as he pleads with you in the way he once did to earn your forgiveness. “i swear, that hasn’t changed.”

“you are not the man i loved,” you enunciate, tears stinging your eyes as you repeat your words to him like you do to yourself in the early hours of the morning when you can’t sleep.

dick’s expression darkens. he catches a stray tear with his finger and tilts his head. his voice is slightly colder now, more detached. “you still love me. i can feel it. but it’s alright, i’m a patient man.”

he drops a kiss to your cheek, where the tears threatened to flow before stepping backwards. “i’ll be back, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reassuring you as if you’ve begged him to stay.

and with that, he’s gone. disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had arrived.

you collapse to the ground, knife forgotten at your side. your heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

because this isn’t your dick grayson. you know deep down that your dick doesn’t have pale, ghostly skin that makes you flinch when he touches you. or fangs that glint menacingly when he talks.

but it’s a little hard to remember all those things when he looks at you with those eyes, that in the dimly lit bunker, look as lovingly at you as they used to.

a/n cont.; im gnawing at the gates of dick’s vampire manor begging to be let in so he can turn me… pick me, choose me, bite meeee🧛🏻🤍

[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 2 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 1.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes: just a follow-up to the first part in the series :)

it had been 3 weeks and quinn had truly kept to his word. he allowed y/n to drop abby off at his place whenever she needed to run to work, or whenever she just wanted to have a few hours alone. he helped her whenever he was able to.

and she was thankful for his presence in their lives. without him, she would've gone insane.

wile she wasn't at work, quinn stopped by to bring y/n and abby some things he thought they'd like. most of the time it was dinner and other times, it was a book for y/n or a toy for abby.

abby loved to see him, not only for the toys, but for his company. he was her favorite person. and that didn't upset y/n at all.

okay. maybe it did just a little bit. but she loved seeing her daughter happy.

one night, while quinn and abby were waiting for y/n to get home from work, abby looked up at quinn with a smile.

"my mommy says you're a hockey player."

"yeah. i am."

"i've never watched hockey before. what's it like?"

quinn let out a chuckle and tried his best to explain the game to her. by the end of his description, abby was hooked.

"i wanna go to a game now."

"maybe your mom can get a night off and i can get you guys tickets for one of my upcoming home games."

"could you do that?"

"i'd have to talk it over with your mother first. but i can try."

"yay." she smiled. "love you quinn."

"love you too, sweetheart." quinn smiled and turned his attention back to the movie they were watching.

less than an hour later, y/n walked through her door and set her bag on the table. she went and joined quinn on the couch. he made room for her and smiled.

"how was work?"

"exhausting, as usual." she took a deep breath and looked at him. "how was babysitting?"

"can you really call it babysitting if you don't pay me?" he chuckled.

"i'm going to pay you eventually. i just never have the time to get the money out for you."

"it's okay. honestly. i don't mind spending time with abby. she's the sweetest kid in the world." he glanced down at the little girl sitting to his right. "oh, i hope you don't mind, but i think i got her hooked on hockey."

"how did you do that?"

"she told me she'd never watched hockey before and then she asked me to describe the game to her. then she said she wanted to go to a game and i told her i'd get you guys tickets if you were okay with it."

"i have this weekend off. when's your next home game?"

"saturday evening." he smiled, really loving how perfectly their schedules lined up.

"perfect. i'd love to go to a game."

"great. guess i'll see you there." quinn stood up and y/n walked him to the door.

"good night, quinn." y/n smiled and shut the door.

by the time saturday evening rolled around, y/n and abby were excited to watch quinn play. he brought over 2 vancouver jerseys for the girls before he left that morning and y/n thanked him.

as they made their way to the amazing seats quinn had gotten for them, y/n couldn't help but be awestruck at the sight. the players were skating around for warm-ups and when quinn skated past their seats, abby jumped up and down. y/n picked her up and brought her over to the glass just as quinn came back around. he tossed his puck over the glass and offered them both a smile before skating away.

"who was that?"brock asked as quinn came over to him.

"my neighbor and her kid."

"that's y/n?" he looked over at the girl behind the glass. "hmm. i always pictured her with red hair for some reason." he shrugged and kept skating. "still gorgeous though."

"relax, dude. you have a girlfriend."

"true. but you don't. why don't you make a move?"

"it's not like that. i'm just her occasional babysitter when she's busy, which is a lot." quinn sighed. he agreed with brock in the fact that she was gorgeous but he had his eye on someone else. he didn't want his friend to know that though. "besides, she just got to town after moving across the country to get away from her past."

"how much do you really know about her?"

"i know enough. can we focus on warm-ups?"

"sure thing, dude." brock skated away and started practicing his shots.

back on the bench, y/n and abby were watching quinn skate around. y/n's eyes didn't stay glued to him though. her eyes began following the blond quinn was just talking to. the one with boeser on the back of his jersey. there was something that drew her to him, but in a way, she felt like she was betraying quinn. then she looked over and saw a girl with a boeser jersey standing a few feet away. she waved to quinn's friend and he stopped to have a quick chat with her.

quinn stopped by y/n and abby again. "i really hope you guys enjoy the game tonight. i'm gonna play extra hard for the two loveliest ladies in the arena."

"as long as we're cheering for you, we'll be having fun."

"glad to hear that." he smiled and skated to his spot on the ice to begin the game.

as the game began, y/n watched as quinn got the puck and took the first shot on the Kings goal. he missed but abby started clapping anyway. she didn't quite understand the game but she was enjoying it anyway.

halfway through the second period, the canucks got on the board with the first goal of the night. the goal was made by boeser and the girl he was talking to cheered with delight. she then turned to y/n and smiled.

"hi. i saw you talking to quinn earlier. are you his girlfriend?"

"no. i'm just his neighbor." she smiled.

"oh, so you're the one he's always talking about?" the girl raised an eyebrow before smiling and extending her hand. "i'm bella, brock's girlfriend. it's nice to finally meet you."

"i'm y/n." she shook bella's hand and smiled. "i'd love to say that i knew who you were but quinn hasn't mentioned a lot of his friends. sorry."

"that's okay. he's like that sometimes." she smiled and looked at abby. "oh my goodness. you must be abby."

"that's me." the girl in y/n's arms smiled at bella.

"quinn has shown us so much pictures of you and i must say, you're much more adorable in person."

"thank you." abby giggled. "quinn says i get it from my mommy."

"oh, does he now?" bella raised an eyebrow. "that's cute."

"you never told me he said that, abby."

"he says it every night he watches me."

"oh." it was y/n's turn to raise an eyebrow. she felt her cheeks heat up quickly so she refocused on the game. and just in time to see quinn score a goal.

"i'm really glad you and quinn met. it was beginning to feel like he would never meet someone who could crack his moody personality."

"he's not that moody. or at least he hasn't been since i've met him."

"that's what i mean. he used to be so moody but since you came to town, he's changed. he talks more, smiles more. and he even plays better." bella grinned and watched the puck exchange between quinn and brock. "whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"okay." y/n liked talking to bella. it was nice to finally have a conversation with someone who wasn't a child or a coworker. it was like she was an actual friend.

later that night, y/n was walking back to her apartment when she stopped in the middle of the hall. she couldn't believe her eyes.

"what the hell are you doing here?"

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Lesbian/Sapphic TTRPGS

I can't not contribute to this! Let me throw a bunch in the ring! I don't know if all of these are specifically toxic yuri or violent, but they are undeniably queer!

we burn together, by Shouting Crow.

WE BURN TOGETHER is a rules-lite tabletop roleplaying game that has swords, skeletons, and drama. What else do you want, really?

It is inspired by the Locked Tomb series written by the incredibly talented Tamsyn Muir. You don't need to know anything about the books to play, though. All you need to know is that it has necromancers and people swinging blades around and if a caster and a duelist work together, they might become something more (but they'll probably lose something profound in the process).

You'll need a twenty sided die and at least two people to enjoy this compact little game. The current version is text-dense because it was designed to fit on 20 A6 size pages. It's black and white and dead all over. 

I’m submitting this one as a Lesbian game even though it’s not necessarily specific about the gender of the characters, because so much of its source material is considered fairly iconic and queer. It’s about relationships that create something new while taking something away from both parties to it. If you want unhealthy attachments and metaphors all about forbidden relationships, you want this game. In the words of the creator: “Print it, play it, tell your friends about your big feelings and die terribly. They can wear your finger-bones on a little silver chain around their neck and think fondly of you or something.”

Toxic Sword Lesbians, by Carly Smallbird.

Toxic Sword Lesbians fight their shared enemies when they’re not fighting each other. They know they shouldn’t say something hurtful or give in to escape over responsibility, but they do. They lash out over disagreements on ideals and on expectations. They give in to their worst self-destructive impulses. And then they pick themselves up off the ground and go help their loved ones, because that’s the right thing to do.

Toxic Sword Lesbians is a game for telling stories about the most awful women you can make up to love, which is to say: it's a hack for telling spicier, more emotionally fraught stories in Thirsty Sword Lesbians. In it, you'll find tools for Making Her (Your Character) Worse!

Yeah, I know you said that you wanted to see what was out there other than Thirsty Sword Lesbians - well Toxic Sword Lesbians is a hack of TSL! It includes updated sex and intimacy moves, more evil Truths of Heart and Blade, and custom mechanics for body horror, monstrous hunger, and more. If you want to make your lesbians obsessed, over-thinking danger-addicts who jump to the worst conclusions and dig into their self-destructive habits all of the time, you want Toxic Sword Lesbians.

No Love’s Land, by Adira Slattery.

DESIGNED FOR WAR YOU ARE ON OPPOSITE SIDES YOU HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE You are a killer robot stationed on the moon of Ahava, covered in a dense radiation field. The only way you have to get a message to your secret girlfriend and fellow killer robot is to send them a message inscribed on a missile. Time to fire… LOVE CONQUERS ALL AND YOU WERE MADE TO CONQUER

No Love’s Land feels somewhat like a larp; you have to physically create a space that feels like a bunker, and then toss notes to each-other rather than speaking out loud. You can send messages, but as soon as the two of you embrace, the game ends.

I love how much this game just dives headfirst into tragedy. With each not, the two of you can get closer and closer together, symbolizing the way you are able to bypass subroutines and infiltrate your mech’s code. I think it would make such a fun date night with a loved one, a chance to create a big personal mess that culminates in a cathartic emotional moment.

Supernatural Sapphics, by Transcendent Tapir.

Supernatural Sapphics is a role playing game for 2 or more players, one player taking the role of the Top, who runs the game and plays the Dolls (important NPCS), Extras (unimportant NPCS), and Obstacles (nonsentient beings, environmental hazards, or any other non-person barrier preventing progress). The rest of the players take the role of Bottoms, which are characters in the game. This Distortion Dice game is about the messy queer relationships between beings of the veil (vampires, fae, ghosts, cryptids, etc) and the humans fascinated by them. To play this game you will need several sets of polyhedral dice and optionally tokens to represent Drive.

The designer is fairly up-front about the messy relationships that can show up in this game, including PvP rules for handling inter party conflict.Your characters are collections of vibes, skills, pet peeves and insecurities, constantly reevaluating their relationships every time they get overwhelmed. From what I can tell, the theme of being supernatural cryptids is more of a flavour than being something intrinsically baked-in, so you could likely replace that aspect with a different setting or flavour and still explore those messy relationships.

Tension, by Adira Slattery

Tension is a Tarot based roleplaying game for telling stories like Killing Eve and Hannibal, letting you explore queer experiences in the cat and mouse genre.

Play as an investigator and a killer as they get entangled in each other. You will pursue after another back and forth while everyone in your orbit drops like flies. But it’ll all be worth it, because you’ll be in love. Or dead. Or both maybe? How exciting!

Another game by Adira Slattery, I don’t know if Tension is explicitly lesbian, but it’s definitely queer. Rather than play a single character, you and up to two friends created a cast of characters, using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck. The bulk of the story, however, follows a killer and an investigator, both who know who the other is, but still experience an inexplicable attraction. The other characters are pawns, victims, and various other minor characters that help raise the stakes.The story is meant to weave a complicated web that likely implicates both of them - great for a high-stakes, intense game.

And They Were Dortermates, by unseeliejess.

From matins to compline, every day has been the same. Free from worldly concerns, your days have been spent in song and prayer, in needlework and gardening, in feeding the hungry and teaching the young. You have heard rumors of revolution from pius petitioners expressing fear for you and all the faithful. There are only a few months until your way of life is completely overturned. You may not survive the upcoming terror. You will never lose your faith, but you may lose…her.  

And They Were Dortermates is a GM-less game for one or more players. Players are cloistered nuns in a medieval convent in a time shortly before a dissolution or suppression of monasteries and convents. They are also secretly in love with the other character(s). 

A classic story of love that cannot be, And They Were Dortermates uses a block tower and a deck of playing cards. Similar to Dread & Star-Crossed, the block tower is used to represent a big event that will change your life permanently - and if it falls too early, you may not be able to confess your love. Each turn, you draw a card from the deck, follow the prompt, and pull a block from the table. A classic will-they-won’t they with a Catholic flavour!

Underlie Jess has a number of lesbian-themed games for you to check out out, including Just Gals Being Comrades, as well as the core We Love In Whispers System, a GM-less, diceless game of romance and politics.

Sapphic Slumber Party, by deecity.

Be brave. Be beautiful. Fall in love, just for a moment. And really just nail a beautiful girl with a pillow. 

Sapphic Slumber Party is a short zine game for 2-5 about a pillow fight at a slumber party, and all the joyful, melancholy, amorous, and vulnerable feelings that come out when you're playing in your PJs. Brief and lyrical, Sapphic Slumber Party is GMless and plays in 30-45 minutes. Rather than a sweeping epic or a high-stakes romance, Sapphic Slumber Party focuses on a single, rather mundane night. Over the course of a single pillow fight, your characters will attack each-other with pillows and attempt to pile Vulnerability upon each-other. It’s a subtle game of pushing your crushes closer and closer to something a bit more intimate, a bit more risky than a pillow fight, a chance to get closer and closer - until a button pops, a bra strap slips, or some other symbolic representation of getting more and more vulnerable with each-other.

What you do at the end of the pillow fight depends on how much Vulnerability you get, and who got vulnerable first.

Deecity also has a Locked Tomb hack for Ten Candles, this time called Tomb Candles!

I (and others) have also recommended…

Dungeon Bitches, by Dungeon Bitches.

The Girlfriend of my Girlfriend is My Friend, by stargazersasha.

Deadly Weapons, by Adira Slattery (honestly, a champion for lesbians).

The Rain Still Falls In My Heart, by Roz.

Breakup on Re-Entry, by Riverhouse Games.

Doll.Bod, by @ribstongrowback

Lesbians Built This Farm, by che.

Gay Crime, Sapphics Against Capital, by Evey Lockhart.

You can also give me a tip by donating to my Ko-fi!

i remember you writing a list of something in some fucking context (i remember nothing), and on that list there was a lesbian ttrpg that really stuck out to me that i didn't save. It was a real edgy one about being lesbian violent and mean (i think), which isn't really much to go off. Where i'm going to is, would you be interested in just listing every lesbain indie ttrpg you know of? Its fine if you dont wanna, of course.

You're probably thinking of this thread here, though you're quite correct that "mean violent lesbians" isn't sufficient to pick out a specific entry – several of the titles plugged in that thread would easily qualify!

As for "listing every lesbian indie ttrpg [i] know of", that's a trickier demarcation problem than you might imagine. What is a lesbian tabletop RPG? Is it one where the player characters are obligatorily lesbians? (If so, we end up excluding games which are explicitly about the lesbian experience, but feature some other type of character.) Is it one written, at least in part, by lesbians? (If so, we bump into the problem that not all indie tabletop RPGs are autobiographical, the maunderings of certain self-appointed critics notwithstanding.) Is it one where the game itself is a lesbian? (Not an impossible brief, but now we're catering exclusively to folks who are into meta bullshit.)

Ultimately I'm going to pass the problem down the line and just ask folks in the notes to name the first game that comes to mind when they think of the phrase "lesbian indie ttrpg". Let's see what sort of consensus evolves.

[runninriot]

hold on together

for @stervrucht, inspired by this beautiful art piece | rated T | wc: 625 | tags: dealing with post UD trauma, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort | also on ao3

   "We're alive."

The words hit Eddie like a punch to the gut. He feels like someone’s dropped him into ice cold water, startled awake by the impact. Slowly, the world around him comes into focus.

   "We're alive and we're safe and whatever you saw in your dream isn't real, okay?"

Strong arms wrap around him, giving Eddie something to hold on to, keeping his trembling body steady.

   "You're okay, Eddie. We are okay."

A sob forces its way out of his throat but doesn't have the chance to get very far. Not with Eddie's face pressed against Steve's shoulder - held tight against warm skin. Skin that is damaged, covered in scars that will always remind them that the horrors are real.

Were real.

   "It's over. They can't hurt us anymore. You're safe, I promise."

Steve's voice is a soothing vibration against the shell of his ear, the hand at the back of his head encouraging him to bury his face where he always feels safest, hiding in the space between Steve's shoulder and neck.

   "I'm here, Eddie."

He always is. Always is there to get Eddie through the nights when the monsters seem too real and he can't escape, can't run from his own mind when it's playing those images over and over again. When he can feel the teeth sinking into his flesh and smell the blood. When he feels so cold, so alone, so scared. When he wakes up screaming and drenched in sweat, unable to breathe.

Steve holds him through all of it, never complains about losing sleep, never makes fun of Eddie for crying.

   "I'm sorry, Steve," he says weakly, the words offering no real solace for how fucked up he feels. "I'm so, so sorry for being such a mess."

   "Shh, don't worry. I got you, Eddie."

Steve always does. Is the only one who gets to see Eddie like this. The only one who can catch Eddie when he's falling.

   "It's all gonna be okay. Do you hear me? I love you, baby."

Loves him despite how broken Eddie is. Loves him with all his flaws, loves him with all the burdens of a tattered mind, the trauma, and barely healed wounds. Loves him and keeps him close. Lets him fall apart in his arms before he helps him pick up the pieces time and again.

   "I don't deserve you," Eddie snivels before he dares to look up, teary eyes searching for Steve's hazel ones, "You shouldn't have to put up with me."

Steve takes him in for a few seconds, eyes flitting between Eddie's, seemingly searching for the right words to say. And then his lips curl into a lopsided smile.

   "You're not getting rid of me that easy. Sorry to break it to you but you're stuck with me forever. We're trauma bonded for life, baby."

Eddie laughs, all wet and choked up - he must look disgusting with his puffy eyes and red, blotchy face but Steve kisses him anyway. Kisses him, and holds him, and it's like a dream. A beautiful dream that slowly replaces every last memory of the nightmare he had.

   "Feeling better?" Steve asks when their lips part and Eddie nods, wordlessly follows Steve back underneath the covers where he crawls into waiting arms, quickly drifting, falling back asleep.

Maybe tomorrow, he will be the one offering comfort. Right now, though, Eddie can rest safely in his boyfriend's arms.

Hopefully one day, the recurring nightmares will finally end for both of them. Until then, no matter how hard it gets, they have each other as their anchor. Protected by love as their armour. Two hearts beating for one another, their rhythmic melody a reminder that they made it.

They are alive.

[ma1dita]

not your goddess

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words: 8k holy shit this is the longest fic for this series so far summary: (established relationship (uhhhh, well…)) The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. Change in perspective is always good, but it makes you and Luke see your futures quite differently—you wonder if you’ll be together in it at all. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: mmmyeah this is a songfic - goddess by laufey. references to waiting for godot by samuel beckett if you squint

—

[ it always goes like this, could've predicted it || i'm so naïve to think you loved me for me, kissed as I ran off stage || you're too old to play this game, guess you're still growing up at thirty nineteen]

Once you open yourself up to someone and bare your soul to them in honesty, they get a choice whether they want to be with you or not. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that. Normal humans are complex as it is—but to be a demigod must mean to endure all of that and then some. Luke has been especially hard to reach lately, and trying to understand him feels like grappling wisps of smoke. You let him build his whole life around you without either of you realizing and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in. Though maybe he always knew that—Luke Castellan is always intentional, and always full of surprises. 

“We should run away from here.”

His voice breaks through the crunching of dead leaves underfoot on your trek to the stables. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking, even harder to decipher when your eyes meet in the dim light hanging above the Dutch doors that you walk through. 

The two of you move as if partners in an orchestrated dance, the steps routine and not needing instruction; you fill up the water troughs and he steps around you to grab the bag of feed while his other hand grazes your waist, beckoning you to the next task. Most days are like this now, plotted out perfectly from sunrise to sunset. 

To be content means that most of it is predictable, and some might call it boring, but it comes with the inner satisfaction that what the both of you share is only yours. 

It’s peaceful.

Neither of you has ever really had that—and in your own way, both of you want to hold onto it for as long as you have it. Like how comets are always predictable; the knowing doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

“Let’s go now then,” you chuckle lightly, not looking at him as you shut off the hose. Bowie, your pegasus, brays in thanks as he dunks his muzzle into the trough, splashing water at your ankles. The water is frigid, a chill crawling up your spine and when you look up, Luke’s already staring at you solemnly, almost blending in with the shadows that drape over the barn. He stands there leaning against the wooden fence with his sharp, stone-faced features carved out by moonlight.

“Baby?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, you take a step towards him and he’s eerily still, holding a hand out for you. His fingers don’t shake once you intertwine them with your own and he’s so sure of himself that his resolve is like a suit of armor. What a funny thought—him needing protection from you of all people, the girl he lays bare with most nights and who knows him at his most vulnerable. 

“What do you think? Do I look like I’m joking?”

Luke’s words creak like metal hinges—coming off abrasive at the sight of your resistant expression. Truthfully, he hates it when you look at him like this—like there’s something wrong about him that you’re convinced you can fix. You don’t do it on purpose, but he’d like to think that you don’t think of him as one of your little DIY projects. This is different, calculated—his plans for the both of you will map out the rest of your future.

“Are…are you planning to leave?”

Though you hate to make the comparison, he’s a lot like his father: a one-track mind with only him knowing what��s coming next. Luke just expects everyone else to keep up, and you’re left feeling like someone’s pulled the rug out from under you as he holds onto your wrists firmly in the dim light. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t show it. You can still tell by the way his voice cracks, a melancholy sound like he’s pleading for you to understand a hidden meaning you must’ve missed in the past few months of bliss.

 “We are,” he corrects, before his voice begins to falter, “I mean we can. We…we should,” he says tentatively, and your arms jerk forward with the motion as you stumble into his grasp, “Think of it, babe. We could get out of here and do something great. Make a life for ourselves.”

You squint.

He’s not even asking, and that makes it worse, you think—it’s like he’s already got one foot out the door. You’re not sure if he even considered you possibly saying no.

Are you?

Entertaining frivolous conversations that your boyfriend has with you before bed is one thing—but acting on them? The truth is that you’ve never afforded yourself a future outside of the reality that you have now. You never thought you’d have this after everything—running across the country to find your father and make this family in nowhere New York. It wasn’t a possibility that your 14-year-old self would’ve ever dreamed of. 

But then it happened, and you count your lucky stars that it led you to Luke. This is your home; you built it from the ground up with him the day you both stepped into your roles and washed your hands of stupid pranks. And maybe what you’ve always dreamt of is something you already have now.

Is that a crime? To like your reality better because it’s tangible—not everyone needs to be the main character in a sweeping saga. You do have a life, and you’d like to say it’s pretty alright, all things considered.

“Luke,” you swallow, face scrunching up in the way it does when he knows you’re about to say no, “I mean what about our responsibilities? What about…”

It was cute back when you were fourteen, but he now finds that he hates the way your nose scrunches up when you disagree with something, and it always makes him feel stupid for even asking in the first place. Luke steps away, dropping your hands as he sighs gruffly, “That’s a shit excuse, you know that, babe.” Dust kicks up from under his feet and you think he looks like a child about to throw a tantrum. The pegasi whinny softly behind you, and if they could talk it would probably be something like, Oh shit. Like a flip of a switch, he’s erratic, something pent up inside of him is now uncontrolled.

“I mean what do you want me to say, Luke? You want us to leave? Just disappear and leave Annie and Grover… and my brothers? What then? We don’t have money or degrees, or anywhere to go to—”

“We could make do—I mean we’ve both done it before Trouble, and now we can be together without all this. We don’t need camp. Or the gods’ blessings, I mean what did they ever do for us?” 

He’s tired, you think—because the Luke standing in front of you right now isn’t anything like the one you know. Your Luke loves your campers as much as you do; he’s the type that gives piggyback rides and teaches the little ones how to swim in Canoe Lake. He prays at every mealtime—twice as long because you don’t see the point in it, and likes to fall asleep against your chest in the twinkly lights of cabin 12.

The Luke you know would never want to run away from the home you’ve both created for yourselves. Not without a proper plan. Luke always says that he loves making plans just as much as he loves you, which must mean a lot.

You already have what you want, for now. That’s the contingency of it—for now. You just don’t see it getting better than this; finding camp meant finding yourself, and that’s what your mother always wanted for you. Having a real shot of being a family, even if your dad drives you nuts, and the twins like to fill the bathtub with root beer, and Annie constantly demanding she prove that she knows the first 500 digits of pi comes with the path you chose. 

Family—it’s what you were promised.

“We’re not ready, Luke. I mean… the real world out there is a lot worse than getting a C in archery or avoiding bathroom duty. We’ve still got some growing up to do—what’s the rush?”

He’s testy now—jaw swinging the crick in his neck and he does this when he’s about to say something mean, like the words have to fight their way out of his mouth, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Luke watches you look cluelessly at him like nothing he’s saying is making sense and it’s so frustrating that it makes his head hurt. What happened to you—his free-spirited girl who would follow wherever he leads? You don’t know how crucial this all is—Luke needs to know…

He needs to know if you’ll still follow him wherever he goes, even if it’s away from everything you have here.

But maybe you both imagined growing old together quite differently then.

“You’re making it sound like I’m in over my head about this when I know you don’t like it here. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you,” he bristles, hand leaning over the wooden beam above your head, “This place is getting old. We’re getting old. I want everything with you. Can’t you see that?” It feels like he’s caging you in, and he makes it sound so simple that it makes you laugh.

“Of course I do. All I’m saying is we should think this through more. I mean…We’re demigods. I’m not saying we can’t handle it and I’m not saying no, but—”, you barely finish the sentence before Luke interrupts you again. 

The difficulty with Luke is that when he wants something, he wants it with his entire being. And he never goes down without a fight—even when its with you.

“But you’re not saying yes. Then what are you saying? That you wouldn’t be happy with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you swing yourself out from under his arm and start taking off your apron because clearly, work is not on the agenda tonight. You fling it onto the hook before spinning around to look at him.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I am happy with you. Here. Where it’s safe. Where we have beds to sleep in and food to eat and the only real reason I have to look over my shoulder is to see if my dad’s bribing your siblings to sneak him alcohol,” you say half-jokingly, and it so badly misses the mark as you see his brows furrow deeper into his forehead. 

“Give me a break,” he seethes, your name rolling out of his lips like acid and he has more to say but doesn’t know if he should. But he’s already started something and you’re just waiting for him to finish it. He has a habit of doing this, rolling the words around in his mouth for dramatic effect. 

This is gonna hurt.

“Oh just spit it out, Luke. Don’t whine like a baby.”

“Your dad? He’s a fucking joke. Can’t stand him half the time and I don’t know how you do,” he starts, pacing around you like a boxer in a ring. You stand still as a statue, eyes lit and tracking him in the dark as he continues, “You know I’m right. He’s just keeping you busy because now that he has you, he wants to control you. And you don’t even get a pat on the back.”

“You do not wanna go there, I can promise you that.”

“Well, I am. Because I’m tired of watching you waste your potential. You used to be so…exciting,” His arms swing around him like feathered wings and Luke shakes his head, turning away from you to look at the moon, “I need you to care about our future too, okay? Cut the shit and be a real fucking person for once and not whatever this little puppet show you put on for your dad is because it drives me crazy sometimes. All the time. I’m losing it, Trouble. Can’t you tell?”

It feels like a blow to the chest and you take a deep breath to placate your feelings in case they’re tampering with his—and you find that the anger is all his own. Your words shoot out like a lit cannon in rebuttal, “This drives you crazy? I didn’t know it was so hard on you, Luke. Poor you, picking up after me when you literally offer to help,” you scoff, stomping over to get him to look at you since he’s so intent on having this conversation, “Do you think you get granted immortality for checking off campers on your attendance log?” He can’t have thought it would be that easy, can’t have imagined you wouldn’t get defensive when things don’t go your way. Because it’s been like that for a while now, and Luke’s been falling off pace with life here. He’s not the all-star golden boy he used to be. Deep down, you know that too; he only likes it here because you do. They say with anything the first year is the hardest—and although he wouldn’t change a thing with your relationship, this took work. Loving you was supposed to be his reward, and it’s as if he doesn’t know you anymore. 

He’s not sure he knows himself that well anymore either.

“Of course not! That’s exactly what I’m saying—all of this won’t help us, so why are we exhausting ourselves instead of focusing on what’s important?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the curls to anchor himself to this argument. And now you just want to strike back, to be damned with the consequences. Real love is a mirror, and although it's your first big fight…sometimes it hurts to be seen better than how you see yourself, and it hurts less to inflict it upon someone else instead of admitting that it hurts you.

“Oh so I’m exhausting to be with, is that it?”

He rips his apron off and tosses it at you, “Yes. Is that what you want me to say? You want a bad guy, you’ll get one. I don’t know what to—” His anger has always brewed like a storm—quiet and rumbling under the surface until he’s ready to strike. It comes down all at once and you’re covered in it with no way out but through. You bat the fabric to the ground angrily.

“You wanna repeat that?”

He laughs, a mocking, snarling sound, “You know what, it makes sense now—you’re just like your father. It all tracks!”

Your jaw tightens, pushing through by giving him another chance, testing him. Daring him.

“You wanna say that again?”

The wind picks up at his feet as he spins around you so fast it almost gives you whiplash, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He’s tired and angry, but you’ve never seen this other side of him before—this ferocity that was unleashed at the idea of you wanting something he might not. Maybe you both are too similar then, too stubborn to give in until someone breaks.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Castellan. I’m warning you. Just because your dad hates you doesn’t mean that mine does.”

He laughs. 

Luke laughs like you’ve just told him you’ve put Chiron in another dress and that pigs can fly but then he looks at you… He looks at you with his chestnut brown eyes and they’re just empty, boring deep into your soul.

“What happened to you?”

It’s a weird feeling, to know someone so well that you can see the other side of them they can’t see for themselves. You haven’t got a single clue.

“I grew up. You were there, Luke. You helped me do it. I wanted to be just like you—the role model, the one that people like, and what, now that I'm not just some crazy idea in your head you’re bored?” 

Your voice cracks and so does a piece of Luke’s heart. You’re too tenderhearted, too good for him, and everything about you sends shockwaves through his being. This is what he told Kronos—even if you had it in you to force the gods to kneel and listen, would you be able to make the jump? Luke blinks, tuning back into your words.

“I mean you’re not even asking. It seems like you’ve made your decision for us. What does that mean to you? Us?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat. His apology feels heavier than it should, and you can’t figure out why. He won’t let you find out if he even means it. 

“No, you’re not. You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, and now as soon as we’re happy, you get bored. You wanna talk about fathers, you’re just like yours too. Happy?” 

The words come out almost explosive, a shot in the dark and you didn’t think you’d say it, but you did. Thoughtless, without care, until it sinks into him like a sharp blade. Luke’s face hardens and you’re not sure how long he’s been standing so far away.

“Are we?”

It’s almost lights out and you’re still here arguing with Luke, so today was not as predictable as you thought it would be. Unease grips you by the scrap of your neck like a merciless kitten, holding on for dear life. This isn’t a feeling you should associate with the love of your life.

“What did you say?”

“Like you said, we’re demigods,” he says whispering your name, “what do we do now that we’re happy? That usually means something worse is coming up ahead.” Luke scoffs, half in disbelief at his own realization, the other half in defeat, “We’re meant for more than just being happy—that…this isn’t enough. We’re meant for glory, not shoveling pegasi shit and taking care of children instead of planning for a future with our own. This shouldn’t be the end of us.”

Your lip quivers, tongue in cheek and you need to touch something, hold someone, to remind yourself that this is happening. But you don’t reach out to him because if you get too close he’ll see the tears in your eyes. Grabbing the dandy brush, you trudge over to Bowie and rake it through his hair, mumbling, “I’m happy. I’ve got you,” you swallow, turning to Luke, “I love you.”

He’s already in the doorway, swinging the bottom panel closed with his hip as he looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bowie brays next to you and it sounds like someone blowing a raspberry when they’re tired of a situation—maybe you are going crazy and they do understand—but one thing you do know is that you can’t understand Luke right now. 

The truth is that love is a bunch of horseshit, really.

[ oh, were you surprised by me when you took me home? || When the glamour wore off, reduced to skin and bone || i can't even tell who you want to know || i'm a goddess on stage, human when we're alone]

Your knees hit the dirt again, falling forward onto your hands as you dry heave. In the blink of an eye, you feel Maimer resting against the apex of your neck.

“Yield.”

Clarisse La Rue has barely broken a sweat during this spar, and yet here you are at her feet feeling like today’s breakfast will make a reappearance on the arena floor. The younger girl rolls her eyes as she pulls you up by the leather strap of your chest plate, sighing at the unnatural pallor of your skin as she flops onto a bench with your dead weight following suit as your knees buckle.

“You know, I knew you said you were bad at this, but are you even trying?” she scoffs, throwing a water bottle at you that you fumble in your hands. Winning never feels as good when the other person isn’t putting up a fight. You gulp down the icy refreshment, shutting your eyes for a moment to escape the blinding sun as you mutter, “Never been a fighter unless necessary, Risse. That’s all you.”

“Alright, enough of this.”

Your eyes wrench open as you lean back on your forearms to look at the daughter of Ares. At thirteen, she’s a force of nature on her own and unlike anyone else at camp, Clarisse would never mince her words for the sake of others’ feelings. You needed someone to tell it to you straight.

“You know everyone can tell when you and Luke fight, right? I mean it rarely happens but when it does it always feels like the world is out of balance until you both fix it.”

You groan, throwing your arm over your face and unintentionally hiding from her. That couldn’t be true—the world does not revolve around whether or not a daughter of Dionysus and a son of Hermes had their shit together.

But Camp Half-Blood does.

“You’re lying, La Rue. It’s really not that deep.”

And then she looks at you like you’re stupid, which might be her customary expression for anyone else but to you—well, she at least respects you. For now, unless you keep whining like a badly written love interest.

“Gods, woman. You were so much cooler back then, what the hell happened to you?”

“Clarisse, it isn’t that easy—-” you grumble, putting your face in your hands as you stare at the dirt. Of course, you know that everyone knows, secrets run through Camp Half-Blood like running water. It slips through your fingers easily, soaking through the ground until everyone’s stuck in the mud. Your boots sink slightly into the softening earth and Clarisse realizes you’re crying before you do. 

Why the fuck are you crying? 

It was a stupid argument and it probably doesn’t mean anything but for once, you don’t know what to do. It feels stupid that your body decided to cry before your brain could come to the conclusion. This all feels so stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, weirdo,” she mumbles, unsure of what to do with a crying head counselor. Her calloused hands rub small circles into your back, and she can’t help but think you need more girlfriends your age. Scooting closer to you, she says, “What I meant was that you were way cooler when you didn’t give a shit about what people think about you, much less Luke Castellan. You’re starting to sound like you’re from 10, and I swear Sil is the only tolerable person from that cabin. Stop crying, please…”

You sniff, “Ugh… This is so dumb. Just lost myself for a second.” The statement rings true, and it bothers you more than you thought it would. There is so much more to you than playing the part of the agreeable girlfriend, the caretaker, the perfect daughter, that if you stared at yourself in the mirror you might not recognize who’s staring back. So many parts to play, and so little of you left.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Clarisse sighs, “and I’m no good at this feelings shit, but I think you need to remember that you’re allowed to be someone without him…without all of this. And you owe it to yourself to find out who that is.” You look up at her with watery eyes, tucking hair behind your ear as if it’ll help you absorb her words better. 

You can’t believe you’re getting sound advice from a thirteen-year-old, much less a child of Ares on matters of love. 

“It’s nice to be needed,” you mumble, “my greatest honor, I think. But it might also be my downfall.” 

Clarisse smiles crookedly like she’s watching you through a fresh set of eyes. There’ll be no words of this conversation once you leave the arena—the both of you have a friendship unlike most girls here at camp. Never touchy-feely, typical girl talk, but always what you need to hear. 

“How terrifyingly human of you. Yuck.”

“I can’t go on like this,” you groan, slumping further into your folded-over position and she sighs, going to take a sip from her water bottle before squeezing your shoulder.

“That’s what you think.”

[ you took a star to bed, woke up with me instеad || you must have felt so damn decеived when you made up a version of me that you thought you loved || but I am not your Aphrodite ]

When you were fifteen years old and he was just a month shy of it, you had somehow convinced Luke Castellan to run away from camp with you. 

This was back then. Just for a day—just for the tiniest taste of freedom. 

Luke had been at camp for almost a year, and Rye Playland sounded so much cooler than food service with the nymphs—which is one of the few things he would agree with you on. The both of you had kitchen duty for two weeks after getting caught attacking each other during Capture the Flag despite being on the same team, and it ended up with you ripping the fabric off the stick and chucking it into the middle of Canoe Lake. He’s lucky you didn’t lunge for his head, but the game was forfeit, and cabin 6 didn’t talk to you two for weeks because you threw the game. Including Annie, which was a surprising feat in itself.

After that day, you swore to never do anything Luke made himself in charge of and Chiron swore you two would never be on the same team again. You could remember D’s voice that day and how it boomed through the Big House, reminiscent of his father—a crackle of fury and impalpable seriousness that had Luke shaking slack-jawed in the chairs facing the mahogany desk. He’d never been told off by a parent before, much less an Olympian.

Taking it in stride even as the god threatened to turn you both into dolphins, you mimed the conversation when your father’s back turned, copying the odd quirk in D’s brow and conjuring a mouthful of grapes for teeth. You grinned at the son of Hermes like an idiot, a singular ripe sphere shooting out to make an audible thwack against D’s red Hawaiian shirt that made Luke laugh the loudest, ugliest guffaw you’ve ever heard him let out. He choked on his spit when the god jerked his head back to face the both of you like a comic-book villain.

Honestly, he might’ve peed himself a little. Just a tiny bit.

And the god of insanity himself was at his wits’ end—which is rare for him, very few things can get him to that point. Even less so with people. Pathetic, puny, little people he can drive to madness and violent death. 

But not his baby girl—you know every last nerve to step on, a lot like your mother sure, but still all him in every way it mattered. He loved it, even when he was mad at you like this. He just wasn’t good at showing it, and you knew that to some extent. Plus, you can’t take a man in a Hawaiian shirt seriously, much less a god.

So you and your self-proclaimed archnemesis (frenemy, Luke insists) find yourselves running down Farm Road before first light, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind you as you rush to catch the LIRR at a stop two towns over.

It was a small amusement park filled with different money-grabbing oddities, tooth-rotting confections, and rickety, squeaking rides that the conductors could fold into suitcases at the end of the day.

Sketchy, but so much fun. You made Luke go on all the kiddie rides with you and screamed your head off like a lunatic; he apologized to the parents of a toddler and said you had too much sugar—but that was a lie, this was all you in your natural state. Berry chapstick, wind-tousled hair, and a smile brighter than a spotlight. And your laughter, oh, your laughter shook the walls of the funhouse even after you crashed into the fifth mirror being too busy poking fun at the wonder in Luke’s eyes because it was the first time he’s genuinely done something for fun and not out of necessity. It was nice, and so were you, for once.

It was the first time you’d let your guard down for him, he thinks back—watching you toss a ball so badly off target from milk bottles set across the booth. You twisted in his grasp (he doesn’t remember getting so close, Luke still swears he was trying to help you aim) pouting at him with those pretty plum eyes and he sighed so deeply you smelled the cotton candy on his breath. For a moment you wondered if he tasted like it too—and then the worker asked if you’ll be trying again and you went, “Hmm? Maybe he’d be better at it!”

Luke rigged the shot with the snap of his finger, all the milk bottles falling to the ground with a crash and he swore on his life he’d sell out every single one of these stupid games if it gets you to bite your lip at him like that again.

There isn’t a single hint of regret that passed that entire day—you were already in trouble, so you both figured that you might as well enjoy it. By late afternoon, your legs felt like jelly and it felt less like you dragging him around the fairgrounds and more like holding onto him for support (because there’d be no other reason you’d want to hold his hand, your stomach just felt funny…that’s all!) Luke was wolfing down a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dust getting all over his shirt and he looked up to see you staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

Hand pointed in the air, Luke simply shakes his head.

“Fuck no.”

But you always had a way of convincing him to do things (Luke is a sucker susceptible to double dog dares) and the both of you are surprised he let you because sooner rather than later, you’re sat knee to knee in a tiny, screeching Ferris wheel cart that inched 100 feet into the sky. The white paint was peeling at his fingertips and the air was warm—Luke tried to focus on that instead of the fact that he was in a metal death chamber in the sky.

“Never imagined a son of Hermes would be scared of heights,” you grinned, nudging him with your foot. You’ve folded into yourself, hugging your knees as you looked at him and he thought that he might be having a heart attack at the ripe age of fourteen and three-quarters. But the pink and purple rays of the waning sun framed you so nicely that he wished he brought a camera—he had the silly photobooth strips from earlier tucked into his pocket, but you looking like that; Luke had etched it into his memory for safekeeping. Not only was he able to breathe a bit easier, but if there was a memory he could materialize from today—it’d be you grinning maniacally through the bars of the cart, pointing at the city in the distance. 

“We’ve finally found something you’re not good at, golden boy,” you grinned, tilting your head to the side and inspecting him like he was a sad hamster in a glass ball.

“M’not scared of heights, I'm just scared of falling,” he reasoned, looking at the rusted floor. You were making your boots dance along to the beat of the fair music, tapping along to the cyclical rhythm. He was more scared of the lack of control he had at this moment—any of the other crazy rides, Luke had stood at the tiny gate next to the conductor holding the plush avocado he won for you, watching and hearing you scream for joy as the machines flung you into the air. The ones he did go on were relatively tamer, and by the third kiddie coaster, he realized that you probably whooped for joy just to make him feel better.

You kissed him on the cheek that day, so close to his mouth (but not close enough) when the Ferris wheel ultimately screeched to a stop. A necessary distraction, you said—but you weren’t sure for who. He tasted sugar-sweet and smelled like the late summer sun. You had never kissed a boy before, unsure if you’d even know how, or if Luke would even want to if you did.

The thought passed when you realized his fingers were clenched and white-tipped onto the guardrails and you…you’re terrible, so you started rocking back and forth, giggling until he yelled at you to stop, pulling you into his lap. 

The conductor thought you two were doing something way less innocent, and you both got kicked out of Rye Playland afterward—but you got your money’s worth.

Well, you both snuck in and Luke definitely pickpocketed someone’s mom.

All in all, it was a great day.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back home, the Long Island Railroad car chilly with the AC. Watching you drool, he thought he might even like traveling again if it’s for fun like this, might even hate his dad less too. Luke threw his whole dinner into the hearth that night with a bright smile on his face even after Mr. D yelled at the both of you in front of everyone at the dining pavilion. After all, the only factor in his life that’s changed in the past year, an addition, if you must— was you.

[ you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much || you watched me rise then killed my light || and now you know I'm not your fucking goddess ||  oh, i'm no goddess when i'm alone ]

Work is work.

That’s what you’ve both been telling yourselves throughout an already rough week gone even worse, but trying to avoid your significant other is an especially difficult task when you work together. 

It’s the simple truth—you can’t ignore someone you have to talk to primarily because of these two factors: 1. Capture the Flag teams need to be sorted by Thursday mornings to be ready to play on Friday afternoons, and 2. it is weird for campers to see you two not interacting with each other.

Well, it’s Friday now, and you and Luke haven’t talked since that argument in the barn. 

Kind of, but the times you have didn’t count—the past few days have been both of you talking around other people; not directly to each other. Last night at dinner, Chris stared at you like one does when their parents are thinking of getting a divorce, eyes flickering between you two and his cheeseburger. Luke was sitting next to you on the bench blankly picking the tomatoes off his sandwich and you were staring glumly at your slice of pizza.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He was one of the few brave enough to be blunt about it. You and Luke were all-consuming, like a black hole. It’s hard for others not to notice the gravitational pull, but when it’s bad…. everyone and everything gets sucked in, whether they like it or not. 

“Lee was excited to hear that your cabin is teaming up with them tomorrow. It’ll be quite interesting, all of you with 7 and 9,” you said, wiping grease off the slice with a napkin. Luke’s head jerked in your direction at your words, “Dude what—Chris! I thought I signed off on working with 6? We don’t work with Apollo for a reason,” he hissed, leaning over the table towards his brother. Chris scratched the back of his neck, knowing Luke was right. Cabin 7 isn’t that good in all matters that involve stealth—the last time they worked with them, Austin was scatting under his breath and it got them ambushed by the red team. Opening his mouth to speak, you quickly interjected, “Well it’s about time to change it up—keeps things exciting, don’t you think, Chris?”

Luke sighed, redirecting his brother’s focus to him, “What do you think, man? I just think when it comes to battle strategies we should stick to what works.” Chris swallowed, raising his hand in the air; he was grappling at the edge of a cliff just trying to hold on to either of you—he looked around to see if there was a way out of this. Next to him, Ethan averted his eyes and played with his carrot sticks.

“Funny how that works for battle strategies and not other things,” you hummed around a mouthful of pizza, “Don’t you think, Chris? I just think that you never want to be predictable in these things. It makes everything boring. Or so I’ve heard,” you munched thoughtfully, daring the son of Hermes to break eye contact with you as Luke scoffed, tossing his napkin onto his plate before standing up. He walked off without a second glance, throwing everything into the hearth—plastic tray included, and stormed off toward the cabins. The rest of the table minded their business, shoveling food into their mouths. Chris choked on a french fry.

And you smirked, satisfied at the small win. 

But now, almost a day later tramping through the sodden dirt of the North Woods in heavy body armor, you remind yourself that it is so very hard to prove a point to Luke Castellan. He finds you halfway through the game as you hold onto the red flag post, standing tall at the vantage point and looking like a stone grotesque protecting the area you’re surveying. By the time you notice, a blur of cobalt whizzes towards you—knocking out the three Ares kids standing guard around the perimeter. You gasp, raising a hand sending vines hurtling toward the air until you see him hanging upside down by the ankles, wrapped in green leaves and purple bunches of grapes. Luke’s headwear falls to the earth with a clang.

“I’m not here for the flag!”

You rush over, dropping the pole and sighing, “Luke…you scared me! I thought you were with Beck today.” The blood rushes to his head as he looks at you all out of focus. Seeing you the other way around gives him a new perspective on things—the epiphany almost makes him ache, but that might also be the pressure pooling in his forehead. You brush your thumb against his cheek before letting him down slowly, and all he does is look at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Like, actually this time?” you mumble, hugging yourself as you watch the vines unravel from his limbs and sink back into the ground. You’ve always been a good actress and Luke was the best liar around—this shared penchant for fabricating the truth used to make you one and the same.

It is more obvious now that actors and liars are wholly different; actors live in an imaginary world given to them, while liars strive to create it for themselves. There’s that saying—don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Luke finds that he’s starting to hate all of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “we can’t keep ignoring this, Trouble.” It takes a special kind of sadness to feel lonely even when you’re with someone. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your spirit sink into the ground below you, almost resigning yourself to what will happen next. All the petty backtalk, the times you’ve crawled into bed with him already pretending to be asleep— it all comes down to this. There’s this French word that Annie had taught you a few days ago when you spent extra time snuggled up in her bunk, partially to catch up with your favorite girl and partially… to waste more time before going home to him. 

Énouement—-The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future and seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

“Luke…” you start, watching him sheath Backbiter with a casual flick of his hand, “Would you go back if you could? Before…” Barely able to string your words together, he notices your lip quivering, “Did you like me more back then?”

“Baby…” he sighs, going to wrap his arms around you and you hold onto him in return at arm's length.

“I’m really trying…” you choke out, pressing your lips to hold in the onslaught of things you want to say. To understand? To apologize? The words die out on your tongue.

“I know. You’re always trying, Trouble. That might just be the saddest part.”

Wind whirls through your hair, pushing you against him for shelter as you gather your thoughts. In the silence of the woods, you wonder how many moments you’ve spent drawn to him like this for comfort. Luke’s always there for you, whether you like it or not. For better or worse—you wonder if there won’t be a lot of chances to hold and be held, and you can’t seem to let go.

“I didn’t change, okay? I’m still me. People don’t change, just like the gods don’t. I just don’t see us away from this,” you swallow, tracing a finger over his bicep to distract your burning eyes, “we can’t escape who we are Luke. Me and you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

He lets out a sigh and you know his answer; his shoulders sink low enough that your hold on him loosens ever so slightly. At this rate, you think it’d be easier if he’d just pull the trigger—maybe it would hurt less than this.

“I’ll change the gods’ minds and make them agree. They’ll know us, babe. The glory—”

Everything around you blurs as you hone in on your anger. This whole forest could go up in flames and you wouldn’t give a damn,”Oh FUCK glory! Just love me and that’s enough! Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you stop running from me for once, Luke!” Your plea comes out like a wail and you push him away, feeling disgusted by what’s come of this conversation. You were never a beggar—the only thing left to do was kneel in the dirt and beg him not to break up with you. Before you can think of the irrational thought any further he shakes his head, almost growling, “How do you still not get it? It’s because I love you is why I can’t.”

“Listen, I love you too, babe. I just…don’t know if I like you right now.”

That’s not fair. He’s sacrificing the entire trajectory of his life and you can’t figure out if you like him? You don’t know the lengths he would go to, can’t fathom the obstacles he would conquer just to make sure that you and him have it all. And you’re not even trying to see it his way—to even imagine that he could make it possible.

Things couldn’t stay the same forever, that you could both agree on.

“You’re all talk, you know that, Trouble? You’re just mad that I want this life more than you. And you know I’d actually do what I need to do to get it. Would you?” he nudges you roughly, “Talk to me! This is your time to get it all out of your system. Say that I wouldn’t do anything for you. You know I would.” Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks; he hates watching you cry. It’s the whole reason he signed away his soul—he wants the world you live in to be a place where gods bow down to you and dry your tears, not cause them. Luke would topple Olympus in an instant if it meant you wouldn’t look at him like he’s a lost cause.

“That’s not fair, you haven’t even answered a single question I’ve asked you. It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Lu—”

“Not fair?”

Groaning, you turn away from him. The flag post you dropped earlier is long gone now—the game is still on and the world keeps spinning whether you like it or not. But you’re disinterested in all that now.

“Do you even hear yourself? To you, I’m still the girl on the Ferris wheel,” you sniff, wiping your nose with your sleeve. His hands squeeze your shoulders, begging, pleading for you to understand, “Is that a bad thing? You tell me you haven’t changed—I’m protecting her because you won’t. I’m getting her the hell out of here because I know she deserves more than this. Look around you,” he whispers your name against your neck, “We could forget all of this.” 

But that’s just not who you are. Your shoulders tremble as you hold them up under the pressure. Sure you could see what he’s saying—there isn’t a single future you can imagine without Luke in it. The house, the kids…but more than that you just want to belong somewhere. And Camp Half-Blood is where you belong. With him. 

“I don’t want everything, Luke. I just want you. And if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now. Because I’m tired,” you warble, digging your nails into your palms, “ and I’m sick of this game. I feel like neither of us are winning.” You take a step back to look at him—sunlight filtering through his hair, eyes wistful and contemplative.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

And there it is. He’s already made his decision, whether he admits it or not. A horn blares overhead, followed by the sounds of cheering. You don’t know who won, and you don’t really give a shit if we’re being real right now. 

“Does it even matter?”

There’s a frozen look on your face like you’ve been struck by lightning, half between a crooked smile and subtle surprise. It’s a knowing look, Luke thinks, what he can see of you through half-lidded lashes and grief. He thinks years from now, if he even makes it that far, it’ll all come back to this moment in the North Woods, and you, the girl he was in love with at nineteen.

“It’s not even worth it now I guess,” he whispers. It makes you laugh—even your laughter sounds sad now. 

It seems that even breaking up with you is an inconvenience.

You sniff, wiping your face and looking around. Everyone’s gone already and Chiron will be looking for you two soon, “Then it’s not worth it. Because you say so… and we’ve got work to do.” Your watch beeps. 

Dinner service starts soon, but before you both head over to the pavilion, you and Luke are expected to set up the bonfire. He nods, loosening the straps of his chestplate, just something to do with his hands, “I know.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m not ready to leave this all behind yet. I’m still needed here.” Until your coming of age ceremony. Until your heart calls you elsewhere and your family can stand on their feet. 

Until then.

Somewhere, you hear Annabeth calling out to you, the melody of both of your names traveling through the trees. You and Luke turn your heads in that direction, before looking at each other once more. He licks his lips, “I know that. We should get back to it, then.” There’s no use doing this all alone, he thinks. And there’s a part of you that thinks there is no use for you when you’re alone.

“We should.”

Neither of you move. 

The winter solstice is tomorrow and there is much work left for the both of you to do.

—

I don’t understand how he grows colder from the same love that warms me. I didn’t know we loved differently—him partly, less and less, and I entirely. - JNH / @shatteredjuvenileday

[insomniakisses]

i like the alpha alessia and omega leah pairing do you have any more hcs like pregnant!leah or them as parents? Or leah in heat? Nesting? Just anything!!!!!

Alpha Alessia x Omega Leah General HCs -

Alessia Coming to Arsenal -

Obviously they knew eachother from England camps

Obviously the attraction was there

But it wasn’t until lessis first week at arsenal that things really happened.

Leah was all needy and needed something someone

But everyone who usually helped her just seemed so blah

Then lessi was training particularly hard and sweated of her scent patch and WOAH

Leah’s eyes snapped to her so so so fucking fast and she was just dragging her away

Getting Together -

Sex. Thats how they got together.

Sex that happened in the back seat of alessia’s car

Hot, needy, messy, intense sex

Just lessi clapping leahs cheeks in doggy

They are just lucky that lessi had a nee pack of condoms in that car.

General Relationship Fluff -

Soft soft soft babys

So loving with eachother.

Lessi cooks and leah sits on the counter, not ti eat the cut offs because shes so picky but just to get kisses

Lessi caters to leah’s 4 year old pallet without complaint

Leah just looks so cute chomping on her potato smileys

Alessia does anything leah needs

Without her asking

Like she sees it, she does it.

She drives leah around, Leahs her passenger princess

Without complaint.

Morning with them are always difficult

Neither wants to get up so they are cuddling and kissing while they lay there

Eventually one of them pulls the other up and into the shower.

Lessi is always putting leah on her lap and nuzzling into her

Always sharing clothes.

Leah never admits it but when alessia was away for a while when leah did her acl and was recovering. she was in lessis old man u or unc gear

Just pouting her little pout missing her gf

So many sessions of playfull rough housing.

Heats & Ruts -

They are synced up

If ones in heat the other is in rut and vice versa

They are both so needy during this time

Noone can contact them they are just pound mf town

Rough sex or soft sex it doesnt matter they are going for hourrrrrs

So much oral and so many cream pies

Leah’s Nesting -

Leah nesting for the first time at Alessia’s was cute

They were planning a movie night and lessi nipped down to put in the potato smileys and start the pasta and came back to her room looking different

A pile of cussions and hoodies and pillows in the corner on a make shift mattress and a pouty leah saying “wrong”

Leah was just so cute right there lessi almost died.

The next day they got propper nesting supplies and did it right.

Alessia’s Denning -

She didnt originally have a den at leah’s

She didnt really need it

Leah wanted her to have one though

She wanted to make sure lessi was comfortable with her properly

She just bought a loud of stuff and set up her den in the living room

They fuck in it alot

Then they fuck in leahs nest

Pregnant!Leah -

When she found out she was pregnant she was purring like crazy

Just running to alessia and telling her the news.

Alessia cried.

She was always just as happy

The two were clinging to each other rumbling and purring all day.

Pregnant Leah always rubs at her bump when she looks at lessi like shes saying “thats ur mama”

The pup ALWAYS kicks when lessi is playing or an arsenal game is on

Shes always talking to the bump about them being england and arsenals next big player.

Ofc lessi sooooo does the lifting the bump thing.

Lessi would do the cooking a dish based on the babys size trend but leah wouldn’t eat it so instead she lets leah know the size as she kisses the bump

Ofc leahs sex drive is high too but lessis so so so scared to hurt them that she just eats her out.

Pup Stuff -

Mama lessi and mummy leah are such doting loving parents to their son.

Just always at there kids events

When the pup is young they spend afternoons at the training ground and often take naps in the nest there

That pup is raised as an arsenal supporter

Lessi failed the rock paper scissors so their next pup, a daughter, is man united through and through.

Much to her mama and auntie mary n ellas love.

Their son is a perfect mix of them, with leahs smile and now with lessis laugh and lessis eyes

Their daughter though is a mini lessi completely.

The last pregnancy was so tough on leah tho that lessi got a vasectomy

They plan to adopt tho

[k0nanharv3y]

Tim Is A Wayne. AU

Au where Tim joins the batfam early but decides to have a simple life

Most "Tim joins the batfam early" fics end with Jason never going to Ethiopia and Tim becoming Robin while Jason becomes Flamebird or Red Hood. And I'm usually fine with that

But

Listen to me carefully

What if... What if Tim doesn't become Robin? 😦😦😦😦😦

LISTEN TO ME

PUT DOWN THAT ROCK

So... yeah, the kid likes to run around Gotham and take pictures, but let's be honest, Tim is an amateur, the only times he plays the hero are to protect himself or because the situation requires it

So... Tim keeps "sneaking" around to take pictures of Batman and Robin, and I say "sneaking" because even if he walked out the door it wouldn't change the fact that everyone already knows. And Tim doesn't want to become Robin, in canon he never wanted to be Robin, but Batman needed a Robin, but since Jason never died, then Tim doesn't have to become Robin

Do you get my point?

No? I don't care

There are two paths here, Tim becomes a spy for the Bats and now takes pictures of villains and deals in illegal stuff and... Well, he's an Oracle but physical (SOMEONE GIVE ME TIM A SPY, I AM BEGGING YOU) and now he has backup in case he falls off a building or someone notices him, and now he has equipment that doesn't consist of black clothes and worn out sneakers, but he never becomes a vigilante who fights bad guys, he's... Natasha Romanoff but without the fighting skills

And the other way... Tim... has a normal life 😦😦😦😦😦😦😦 as normal as being Bruce Wayne's son would allow him, he goes to school even though he's ahead, he has two brothers who love him and are willing to kill/die for him, he has Alfred (which, being the only member who doesn't stay up all night hitting people, he appreciates him and teaches him things about life [TIM KNOWS HOW TO COOK LIKE ALFRED, SOMEONE, I BEG YOU TO GIVE ME THAT] and among all his grandchildren, Tim is the favorite). And he has Bruce, who is a good father and is thrilled that one of his sons didn't take his path and is safe at home :D

Here are two more paths from "Tim Joining The Batfam Early" and that is... Jason's Death. It didn't happen: It's a lot of what you read above, not a lot of changes and that's fine. And... Jason does die

But Bruce doesn't get another Robin and Tim doesn't become Robin because his brother just died in that suit... a lot of Angst there. And Bruce doesn't break down because his family won't let him, he can't break down because his other son needs him. And when Jason comes back the first thing he wants to do is see his little brother

And there's plenty of angst there for them to feed on

But let's leave the angst aside, let's get to the fun part

Jason never dies and Tim is kidnapped

Option A) Tim stays silent as he waits for whoever comes to get him out of here, staring at anyone who passes by

Option B) He unties himself and escapes to the roof, waiting for whoever is coming for him to appear

Tim finishes high school and goes to Ivy University and is accepted with a scholarship and the family is happy

Tim welcomes Damian with open arms because he always wanted a little brother (he wanted to stop being treated like the baby of the family, please, he's 15 now) and Damian wants to hate this kid because it seems like everyone in the family loves him, but he's the person who gives the most stability to the mansion and the family and he's the one who convinced Bruce to let him have a cat

Tim is still the smartest of the 3 brothers, he helps out with whatever he can, Superboy has a weird crush on him, he solves all of Nygma's riddles and brags about it on social media, he does his internships at WE but not out of necessity but because it's his father's company. Ra's has his eye on him for some reason ????? But fuck everyone, Ra's looks at him too much and his family will make sure that's the last thing he does

And Tim... he lives a normal life. He goes to college, he has friends outside of the masks, he is loved and he loves and... It's okay

And WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT IS THIS THOUGHT???? TIM BECOMING RED HOOD????????? WHAT?????? that's another post, lol

[acknowledge-reigns]

Experimentation | Jhea x Reader (SMUT) 18+!

(Not my gif)

Description: Reader and Rhea have both had their eye on Jey Uso. They both finally get what they've been craving.

Requested by: @acute-crashout-jeyuso

Warnings: Petnames, honorifics, Mami/Daddy kink, D/s dynamics, teasing, threesome, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, praise, edging, begging, hair pulling, p in v, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cum eating.

MDNI!!! 18+

My masterlist can be found here.

Rhea sits in the hotel room the two of you were sharing for the night looking at you with a sly smile on her face.

"I have a proposition for you, babygirl." she says, patting her lap.

You sit down on Rhea's lap, looking up at her with curiosity.

"What kind of proposition, Mami?" you asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Rhea wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer to her.

"I've noticed that you've been eyeing Jey Uso lately. And I know you've been curious about what it would be like to be with a man." she says, her tone teasing.

You blush slightly, knowing that she's caught you checking out Jey. Rhea had been your first, you'd never experienced sex with a man.

"I...I have been curious." you admit, looking down shyly.

Rhea lifts your chin up with her finger, making you look at her. "There's no need to be embarrassed, babygirl. I understand. That's why I've been thinking about letting you have some fun with Jey."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a mix of excitement and nervousness washes over you.

"R-really? You'd let me do that?" you ask, your heart racing.

Rhea nods, her smile growing wider. "Yes, really. I trust Jey, and I trust you. I want you to be happy, and if being with him will make you happy, then I'm all for it."

You feel a rush of gratitude and affection for your girlfriend.

"Thank you, Mami. That means so much to me." you say, wrapping your arms around her neck and hugging her tightly.

You pull back from the hug and look at Rhea with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Can I ask you something?"

Rhea raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your question.

"Of course, babygirl. You can ask me anything." she replies, her tone slightly playful.

"Are you... attracted to Jey?" you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

Rhea chuckles, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Is it that obvious?" she asks, her eyes glinting with amusement.

You nod, feeling a pang of jealousy but also a sense of excitement.

"Yeah, it is. I've seen the way you look at him." you admit, biting your lip.

Rhea leans in closer to you, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I can't help it. He's so cute, funny, strong, and he has a certain... charm about him." she says, her eyes filled with desire.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as Rhea talks about Jey.

"I can see why you're attracted to him. He's definitely easy on the eyes." you say, your mind already wandering to what it would be like to be with both of them.

Rhea grins, clearly pleased with herself.

"Actually, babygirl, I already talked to Jey about it." she says, her hand slowly moving up and down your thigh.

You gasp, surprised that she had already taken the initiative.

"And what did he say?" you ask, your heart racing even faster now.

Rhea's hand moves higher up your thigh, her touch sending shivers through your body.

"He said he's interested. He's been thinking about you too, you know. I could text him. He's in the room just down the hall." she says, her voice low and sultry.

You can feel yourself getting turned on by Rhea's words and her touch.

"R-really? He's been thinking about me?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

Rhea nods, her hand now resting on your hip.

"Oh, yes. He's been thinking about how sexy you are. He can't stop talking about how much he wants to touch you." she says, her fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Rhea sends a quick text to Jey, and a few moments later, he knocks on the door to the hotel room.

Rhea calls out for him to come in, a sultry smile on her face.

Jey enters the room, closing the door behind him. He looks at you and Rhea, a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Hey, ladies." he says, his voice deep and smooth.

Rhea pats the spot next to her on the bed, gesturing for Jey to sit down.

"Come here, Jey. We have something to discuss with you." she says, her hand still resting on your hip.

Jey walks over to the bed and sits down next to Rhea. He looks at you, his gaze roaming over your body.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Rhea leans back against the headboard, pulling you onto her lap.

"We were just talking about you, Jey. And how attractive you are." she says, her arms wrapping around your waist.

Jey grins, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Oh really? You think I'm attractive, huh?" he says, scooting closer to you and Rhea.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as Jey moves closer. Rhea tightens her grip on you, her hands slowly starting to explore your body.

"Mhm. We think you're very attractive, Jey." she says, her lips grazing your ear.

Jey reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

Rhea's hands start to wander under your shirt, her fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin.

"We were wondering if you'd be interested in... joining us tonight." she whispers, her lips moving down to your neck.

Jey's eyes darken with lust as he watches Rhea kissing your neck.

"Joining you? In what way?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

Rhea pulls away from your neck and looks at Jey with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"In every way possible, Jey. We want you to be with us tonight, both of us." she says, her hands still exploring your body.

Jey's gaze flickers between you and Rhea, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his hand moving to your thigh.

Rhea nods, her eyes filled with determination.

"We're very sure, Jey. We both want you. We want to feel your hands on us. We've talked about it and fantasized for long enough." she says, her voice dripping with desire.

Jey moves even closer, his body now pressed against yours and Rhea's.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting this." he says, his hand slowly sliding up your thigh.

Rhea grins and looks at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I think we have a bit of an idea, Jey." she says, her hand slipping under your skirt.

Jey's hand joins Rhea's under your skirt, both of them exploring your most sensitive areas.

"You're so wet already, babygirl." he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

Rhea chuckles and nibbles on your earlobe.

"She's always been a needy little thing." she says, her fingers teasing your entrance.

Jey's fingers join Rhea's, both of them working together to bring you pleasure.

"I can tell. She's squirming already." he says, his other hand moving to your chest.

Rhea looks up at Jey, a sly smile on her face.

"I think she wants more, Jey. She's craving it." she says, her fingers slipping inside you.

Jey chuckles and looks down at you, his eyes filled with dominance.

"Are you going to be a good girl for Mami and Daddy, babygirl?" he asks, his fingers still moving in and out of you now in sync with Rhea's.

You nod your head eagerly, your body trembling with need.

"Yes, daddy. I'll be a good girl for you and mami." you say, your voice shaky with desire.

Jey grins and looks at Rhea, both of them clearly pleased with your response.

"Good girl." he says, his hand moving to your chin and tilting your head up. "You're going to do everything we say, understand?"

"Yes, daddy. I understand." you repeat, your eyes locked on his.

Rhea leans in and whispers in your ear.

"You're such a good little slut, babygirl. We're going to have so much fun with you tonight."

Jey nods in agreement, his fingers still moving inside you.

"You're going to be our little plaything, babygirl. We're going to use you however we please." he says, his voice filled with authority.

Rhea's fingers start to move faster, her other hand gently squeezing your breast.

"And you're going to love every single second of it, aren't you?" she asks, her eyes filled with lust.

You can't help but moan in response, your body completely at their mercy.

Rhea's fingers suddenly stop, leaving you on the edge of climax.

"Beg for it, babygirl." she says, a smirk on her face.

Jey chuckles and removes his fingers from you as well, both of them watching you with amusement.

"Go on, babygirl. Beg us to let you cum." he says, his hand moving to your hair and gripping it tightly.

You whimper in frustration, your body aching for release.

"Please...please let me cum." you say, your voice filled with desperation.

Rhea grins and leans in to whisper in your ear again.

"Such a good girl, begging so nicely."

Jey tugs on your hair, pulling your head back.

"I think she deserves a reward, don't you think so, Mami?" he asks, looking at Rhea.

Rhea nods, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I think so too, Daddy. She's been such a good little subbie, it's only fair."

Jey looks down at you, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Alright, babygirl. You can cum."

As soon as Jey gives you permission, Rhea's fingers start moving again, her pace quick and relentless.

Jey holds you tightly, his grip on your hair firm as he watches you come undone.

You cry out in pleasure as you reach your climax, your body trembling and convulsing with the intensity of your orgasm.

Jey grins as he watches you come down from your high, his own arousal growing even stronger.

He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down on your back.

Rhea follows closely behind, climbing onto the bed next to you. She begins to undress herself, her eyes never leaving yours.

Jey quickly removes his own clothes, his body on full display for you to admire. He crawls onto the bed and positions himself between your legs, his gaze filled with lust.

He leans down and kisses you passionately, his hands roaming over your body. Rhea lays down next to you, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

As Jey kisses you, he begins to slowly push himself inside you, his cock stretching you deliciously.

Rhea watches intently as Jey enters you, a look of satisfaction on her face.

"Good girl. Look at you, taking daddy so well." she says, her voice filled with admiration.

Jey grunts in agreement, his hips slowly starting to move as he begins to thrust into you."You're such a good little cockslut, aren't you?" he says, his voice low and husky.

Rhea moves closer to you, her body pressed against yours. She starts to kiss and nibble on your neck, her hand moving down to tease your clit.

"Such a beautiful sight, watching you get fucked by daddy." she whispers in your ear.

Jey picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, his fingers digging into your skin.

"You feel so good, babygirl. You're so tight and wet for us." he growls, his eyes locked on yours.

"Go on, babygirl. Eat Mami's pussy while daddy fucks you." he says, his voice commanding.

Rhea moves up a bit, her legs straddling your head.

You eagerly obey, your tongue darting out to taste Rhea's wetness. She moans softly as you begin to pleasure her, her body trembling with desire.

Jey watches the two of you with a smirk on his face, his eyes filled with lust and pride.

"That's it, babygirl. Make Mami feel good while Daddy fucks this needy pussy." he says, his hands moving to your hips and gripping them tightly as he continues to thrust into you.

Rhea grabs your hair, holding you in place as she grinds against your mouth.

"Oh god, babygirl...you're so good at this." she moans, her body arching in pleasure.

Jey's thrusts become more forceful, his hips slamming into you with each movement. He can feel himself getting closer to the edge, the sight of you eating out Rhea and the feeling of your tightness around him driving him wild.

Rhea's moans grow louder, her grip on your hair tightening as she nears her own climax.

"I'm close...don't stop, babygirl..." she pants, her body trembling with anticipation.

Jey grunts in response, his own orgasm fast approaching.

"I'm gonna cum soon too, babygirl. You're making daddy feel so good." he says, his voice strained.

Jey reaches down and starts to rub your clit, his fingers working in quick, firm circles.

"Cum for us, babygirl. Cum on daddy's cock." he commands, his eyes locked on yours.

The combination of Jey's touch and Rhea's moans sends you over the edge, your body convulsing as you reach your second orgasm of the night.

Rhea's body tenses as she reaches her climax, her legs shaking as she lets out a loud moan. She throws her head back, her grip on your hair loosening as she rides out the waves of pleasure.

Jey watches as you both cum, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Good girls..." he says, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his own release.

With a final, deep thrust, Jey buries himself inside you and lets out a loud groan as he reaches his own climax. He pumps his cum deep into you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

As Jey catches his breath, he pulls out of you and looks at Rhea.

"Come here, Mami." he says, beckoning her closer.

Rhea moves closer to Jey, her body still flushed from her orgasm. She looks at him with a mix of affection and desire.

"Yes, daddy?" she asks, her voice soft and submissive.

Jey smirks and cups her chin, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip.

"Open your mouth for me, baby." he says, his eyes dark with lust.

Rhea obeys immediately, her lips parting as she opens her mouth. She looks up at Jey with anticipation, waiting for him to do whatever he wants.

Jey scoops up some of his cum that's leaking out of you and brings it to Rhea's mouth.

"Taste." he says, his voice low and commanding.

Rhea leans forward and takes his fingers into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as she licks up every drop of his cum. She moans softly, enjoying the taste of him mixed with you.

Jey watches her intently, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction.

"Good girl... you love the taste of me and our babygirl, don't you?" he says, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek.

Rhea nods, her eyes fluttering closed as she savors the moment. "I love it, daddy... I love everything about you and our babygirl." she whispers, her voice filled with devotion.

Jey smiles and pulls both you and Rhea into his arms, holding you both close.

He lays down on the bed, with you on one side and Rhea on the other. He wraps his arms around you both, pulling you close to his chest.

You snuggle into Jey's chest, feeling safe and loved in his strong embrace. Rhea cuddles up to him as well, her head resting on his shoulder.

Jey kisses the top of your head and then Rhea's forehead, his hands gently stroking your bodies.

The three of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. Jey continues to hold you both, his touch gentle and affectionate.

He breaks the silence after a few minutes.

"That was amazing..." he says, his voice filled with contentment.

You and Rhea nod in agreement, both of you still a bit breathless from the experience.

Rhea speaks up, her voice soft and sleepy. "Yeet".

[meowsgirldrawing]

Soft is a Need too (Spite x Rook Drabble I could NOT get out of my head)

Obviously Lucanis x Rook too, but I like to explore Spite and his constant need for Rook just as much as Lucanis does too.

Not proofread so apologies for any mistakes, I am but a wee human in this wee world.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Soft, subtle hands play into ‘his’ hair, twirling a strand around a finger so gently before letting it fall to the rest before carding through once more.

Spite couldn’t tell what need rang better- the need to close ‘his’ eyes or keep them on Rook as they read their novel peacefully from their other hand. 

He only gets so much time with them, and yes- while that time has for sure grown since Lucanis finally did something worthwhile and said how he felt towards Rook after their long-awaited return, he still itches for the times Lucanis finally lets himself rest and him take over. 

He’s been what Rook calls ‘Good’ and laid with them instead of trying to leave. But why would he leave now? Before, he was just bored. Now, he’s not bored anymore! Rook is! With him! Him!! Spite!

And with the way they giggle after a particular hair caress has him sighing in content and nuzzling into their stomach, he can tell they like it too. Not think like Lucanis does, Knows!

“You’re not falling asleep either, are you?” They tease lightly.

Spite glares up at them with fiery purple hues marking their face, “No. Can’t now.”

Their brow raises and a light smirk has him smirking fully back. “Oh?” Their tone has him tightening his arms around them better. Better for them not to leave. “And why’s that, hm?”

Spite nudges into the palm cupping his face, lightly nipping at it that has Rook booping his nose in response for his assault. 

It takes him another moment to realize the look set on him is one of expectation, not just playfulness with tender touches added in. 

It’s simple. “Can’t loose. Our Rook. Again.”

Rook’s hand holding his face pauses as does the one clasped with a book freezes, turning more stiff. 

They blink, then an odd look comes about their face. Spite doesn’t like it. 

They look worried and runs a more concerned felt hand through his hair. He practically purrs like those creatures he sees them constantly petting in Lucanis’s home town. 

“Spite…you know I’m not going anywhere again, right?”

“Yes. Because we kill. Whoever changes that.” His eyes flash momentarily, and he brings a hand to their face instead. Soft skin meets his hand followed by a sweet flutter of eyelashes as he cups around the side of their face. Gentle as Lucanis told him. Like he would ever hurt Rook. They are theirs! Theirs to protect! To fight with, to have fun with!

And finally feel soft with after so long of pain and hurt. 

All Spite knew since getting forced to share a body with the most stubborn human alive was pain. 

From being ripped from the fade and into the already tormented body itself, to the harsh experiments and trial and errors the mages did on him and Lucanis-just to see how ‘they’ reacted as host and demon, to sitting to the side as Lucanis curled into a sopping broken ball for months every night, frozen cold and having to listen to the irritating drip drip drip of the cell door. 

Spite felt the hunger, the aches, the burning anger and nagging sadness, and above all- the undeniable fear. 

Lucanis inadvertently made Spite feel it all, thus leading to his own want to leave, to go back to this ‘home’ Lucanis kept thinking about night and day. 

It all stopped the day Rook and her little team of misfits came into their life. With Rook leading the charge, they managed to get out and end up entirely into a new contract in return for helping them escape. 

It all stopped when Rook smiled and offered their assistance with anything the two needed. 

It all stopped when Lucanis got a flutter in his chest that grew and grew until the very sight of Rook had him blushing and Spite grinning. 

That was until that bastard mage, Solas as they called him, decided the brightest idea was to take their Rook. 

No more. 

Spite eyes them as they mark their book for later reading time and he starts sitting up further with glee when their arms stretch out to him. 

He’s a bit fast in globing them up in a hug only to have them laying across their large couch. He buries his face into their neck, smirking and chuckling as hands run up and down his back. It tickles. 

They settle into his favorite position at that point. Him laying on their chest, face nosing into their collarbone, and them holding them like how his wings hold them when keeping them safe. Away from the painful world. Away from mages and Solas. 

“Mine.” He presses a kiss into the bone underneath him. "Mine." They murmur it back just as easily. He smiles. 

He feels..safe..soft here. Lucanis thought it first but Spite couldn’t help but agree more the first time their hands touched them. 

The same hands that card his hair from his face to press light, fast kisses on his forehead. His nose. And he tilts up to meet their lips. They pinch him and they yelp as he does it back with a chuckle. Others would be scared of such a noise, but their hands are still on him, still giving him soft touches and loving caresses. 

He won’t sleep, he doesn’t need it nor wants it right now. He has his and Lucanis’s Rook and that's all he needs. 

That and their soft touch as always.

[colorfulwastelandvoid]

Richter vs Maria

What we do with grief

I find it interesting about the similarities in Maria’s familial storyline in comparison to Richter’s. The beginning of Richter’s story and character arc starts with Julia dying whereas Terra’s “death” begins seemingly toward the ends of Maria’s story (depends on how many seasons the show gets).

Richter clearly traumatized chooses to fall in to what he believes a Belmont is and how they are supposed to be. He compartmentalizes thinking that it all must be for a reason. He literally says that to Annette. His mother’s sacrifice must have been for a higher calling. Richter relies on humor and action to safeguard his own emotions. It is quite interesting that he is not closed off to people. He loves Terra and Maria. He opens himself to Annette and Edoaurd. He never let his grief truly consume him. He can still recognize and appreciate the love he finds himself in and hold it dear. We actually see what happens when he has to confront Olrox in season 1. He runs! He doesn’t stop until he can’t and breaks down and cries. He is consumed by fear and loss that his body moves on his own. We contrast that by the end of season 2 he is calm and sure. I’m sure that there is still hatred on Richter’s part but I think that they both have moved on from that. I think it’s Richter’s acceptance of who he is over the series leads to this moment but it not just that. It’s the love and admiration he has of Annette. It’s the budding friendship him and Alucard. It’s the ties he has found in Juste (his grandfather). Like Annette says she is surrounded by love, protected by it. Same is said for Richter. Now what does this has to do with Julia? It’s simple Julia is the archetype of what a good Belmont is to Richter, he says as much himself. He models himself after her.

How does this differ from Maria? When Terra gets turned into a vampire, we see a dramatic shift in Maria. The once passionate revolutionist is now angry and closed off. She is standoffish to those close to her. She’s lashes out at Richter, Juste, and Mizrak. Unlike the ghost of Julia haunting Richter(metaphorically), Terra is around talking to, her coaxing her. She’s here yet so far away. It’s like she’s toying with her heart and mind, not on purpose. With Terra’s constant interference and the ongoing revolution Maria snaps. She has a show down with the Abbot. She is fueled with hate and hurt. She burns the Abbot alive. Afterward it’s like she’s filled with this emptiness. She is now throwing herself into the war. Juste realizes this and says that they should leave that to other people but Maria is not hearing any of that. He is able to get Maria to fix her magic, making her remember what was the source of her magic. While she does find her source again the season 2 finale it’s clear that there is still a great deal of hatred and darkness in her.

Summary

What do we do with grief or what does grief do with us? In Richter case his grief manifests into fear. He, at first, runs and cannot contend with the confrontation with his mother’s killer. He also leans into the bonds he forms. He finds strength in them. Richter never closes himself off. It is those bonds that gives him the courage and peace to confront Olrox at the end. Whereas Maria closes herself off and lashes out. I equate this to the fact Terra isn’t technically dead. She’s the figure in the shadow, a bump in the night constantly around. Maria knows Terra is out there somewhere and she hasn’t gotten the chance to truly grieve. Julia is dead and Richter got the chance to mourn and find peace. I wonder how this dynamic between Maria and Terra will play out in season 3 (praying). Will they go the Alucard and Dracula route or find their own path?

Ps sorry for such a long post, I got to start breaking up these things but I get lazy😭. Someone asked for this, so I hope they liked it.

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 20- The Storm After the Calm

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: if my tits don't grow in the next year someone is dying, and it won’t be me. Also, can't let people be happy for too long. I have to get my fill of angst and drama like the filthy little addict I am. Enjoy.

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH19.), Dual POV

A pleasant, light breeze blows through the open windows. Cooling the sweat on Valeria's forehead. Your warm body splays over hers, an arm slung over her side. One of her hands rests on your lower back, the other under her head. That's how she's been laying for the last five minutes since waking up. Valeria doesn't get to relish in these domestic moments very often, so she wants to enjoy them while they last.

She runs her hand back and forth over your back while she watches you sleep. Getting the woman she's been pining after for months feels so much better than she thought it would. Hyper voices float up from downstairs, disturbing the peace. Grating laughter reaches her ears, and yours as you begin to stir. The blanket covering the window turns the warm sunlight green when it washes over the room. Still, despite the dimmed lighting you squint and mutter. You push off of Valeria and adjust your tank top, an action that Valeria watches intently.

You yawn, and stretch, and get off the mattress. Searching around for some pants. She allows her gaze to roam over your backside appreciatively.

"What time is it?" You ask tiredly. 

Valeria feels along the floor for her phone and checks. "12:40PM." She replies. You hum in acknowledgment. Valeria watches you for a few more seconds before forcing herself out of bed. Her back and hips ache in protest. Making her wince. She scavenges her own clothes and dresses herself, following you out of the room.

You avoid the creaky floorboards like a wraith while Valeria walks over them without care. Downstairs in the living room, Mark and Alain are posted up on the couch, game controllers in hand. Valeria plops down beside Alain and watches blankly, still in the process of waking up. The guys' yelping and heckling is too loud and abrasive to Valeria's tired ears, but she doesn't snap at them to be quiet.

Mark loses whatever game they were playing and tosses his controller to the floor. He turns to Valeria.

"Morning." He says. "Sleep well?"

"Sure." She nods boredly. 

Mark pauses and unsuccessfully suppresses an amused smile. "Didn't sound like it last night." He says. 

It takes Valeria a few moments to process his words. She gives him a warning look.

"Mind your business." She says harshly.

"What didn't sound like it?" You ask, walking into the living room with a glass of water. 

"Never mind." Mark shakes his head. You sit down at the foot of the couch, kicking a few empty cans out of the way.

"By the way, what are we doing when we actually find this guy? Doug?" You ask, looking at Valeria. "Are we going to kill him?"

Mark raises his hands.

"You are own your own with that, I ain't trying to catch no murder charge." 

"We could get him to work for us." You suggest, looking around for agreement. Rick, who was propped up in the corner scoffs at you.

"That's a dumb fucking plan." He says harshly. Sounding almost angry that you even suggested it. Even Valeria, who is usually angry and judgmental is surprised by the pure dislike in his voice.

You swivel your head to look at him, shoulders tensed defensively.

"It was a suggestion, asshole." You snipe back. "If you think it's stupid then why don't you contribute to the conversation?"

"I will, but I don't think you should." He says. "Just because you cook good meth doesn't mean you have strategic intelligence. Or regular intelligence for that matter. You're not better than the rest of us just because you cook, the average junkie can make decent meth."

Everyone stares at you and Rick, unsure of how to tread these grounds.

"Woah, lets calm down yeah? No need to get so spiteful." Mark chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

Neither you nor Rick seem to hear him or care. 

"Genuinely what the hell is your problem?" You snap. "You're always giving me evil eyes and dogging on me, what did I do?"

"Are you serious?" He replies angrily. Aggressively approaching. Valeria sits up slightly. Deciding to let things unfold on their own but ready to step in should he become violent with you. "You ghosted my sister out of nowhere, do you know how hurt she was about that?" Valeria frowns, starting to feel nervous about where this may be going.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, bewildered. Beside her, Valeria hears Alain open a canned drink.

Hurt and anger take turns in Rick's eyes.

"Corra." He says, the words making Valeria's blood freeze. You laugh but it's clear you aren't happy. She watches you stand, rigid with anger.

"Your sister asked me out as a joke." You tell him, voice full of rage. Valeria calms herself, there's no getting out of this now. 

Rick furrows his brows. "What the fuck are you talking about? No she didn't." He denies. "She had to hype herself up just to approach you. She was so excited when you agreed to a date that she wouldn't shut the hell up about it." Rick's voice catches. 

You go silent. Everyone seems to go silent. even that stupid, loud clock seems quieter.

"She didn't understand why you suddenly went so cold. My last memories with my sister before she was shipped off to here, before she died, are her feeling inadequate and stupid. Fuck you for making her feel that way. You never deserved Corra." He continues hatefully.

"There was no bet?" You say, sounding upset. You look at Valeria, then Alain. "There was no bet?" Alain shakes his head.

"Not that I know of." He says casually. Your brows are furrowed, distress written across your face. Valeria rubs her jaw, frowning and meeting your gaze when you look at her.

The look you give her makes her skin crawl uncomfortably. Like little mites are crawling all over her, only a shower won't get rid of the feeling. You look hurt, angry, betrayed. You seem to lose all confidence.

"I'm going for a walk." You say flatly. Getting up and walking to the front door and exiting swiftly. Valeria sighs and runs her hands over her face. Not looking forward to dealing with you when you come back. She feels heavily annoyed by the situation. She's starting to learn to not be excited about the good things in life. Because every time something good happens some divine force sees fit to rip it from her hands.

The atmosphere in the house for the next few hours is heavy and oppressive. The longer you're gone the more restless Valeria finds herself feeling. She wants you back so she can resolve this as fast as possible. Rick also seems to be hiding away and sulking, having blown all his energy on bitching you out.

Later that night she gives up on waiting for your return. Your prolonged absence, especially now that it's getting dark in a different city, is starting to worry her but she trusts you to take care of yourself. Though when she's almost over the edge and about to go out searching for you, the front door opens, and you walk in. Not looking at anyone. The others avoid looking at you too, but not Valeria. She stares at you as you walk to the stairs and disappear to the upper level of the house.

She gives you a little space before getting up and seeking you out. Hoping to have a talk with you. The door is closed, and she opens it without knocking. Disgruntled to find you shuffling blankets in the closet. One of the pillows from the bed beside you.

"What are you doing?" She asks, frowning at you.

You stop but don't look her way, frustrating her. "I'm making myself a bed." You mutter, resuming your carefully blanket setup. 

"You already have a bed." Valeria replies flatly, a hint of annoyance dripping from her words.

The floors creak as she walks to the mattress and sits down.

"One for myself." You say.

"I know you're upset but this is a little petty don't you think?" She tells you, trying to talk you out of it. You going out of your way to make yourself separate sleeping arrangements actually hurts her a little. You stop, shoulders tense.

"You're still doing it." You growl angrily. "You're still downplaying my feelings." You whip around to face her, properly angry with her. "It doesn't matter if the reason I'm upset is valid or not, I'm still upset. And actually, I'm very fucking valid. Was there ever a bet, Valeria?" You ask her. Silently waiting for her reply.

She can see in your eyes that you're hoping she says yes. That she at least thought there was, or that Rick lied or didn't know. Valeria is tempted to lie. Spinning a good one on the spot is something she's got quite good at, but for some reason, she also has the desire to give you honesty.

"... No." She replies quietly. "There was no bet."

Your trust in her shatters. She watches in real time as your anger flickers out into smoldering hurt. You shake your head. "I can't believe you did this."

Valeria frowns at your words, hands clenching up fistfuls of blanket in her hands. "Why not?" She asks, voice hardening. "You've worked with me long enough to know I'm not a good person. I've told you I'm not a good person. I am selfish and will do what's needed to get what I want, and I wanted you." She says.

You laugh.

"Are you kidding me?" You snap. "Is that you're go-to response for everything, 'I'm a bad person'? You could at least apologize to me!"

Valeria shrugs uncomfortably, like a chastised child trying to play it cool. "Why would I? It was the best thing for both of us, Corra could never be enough for you." She says dryly.

"Maybe she would've, instead she died thinking I hated her!" You say angrily, your voice cracking at the last part. "I know you certainly aren't good enough for me." You tell her coldly. You rise to your feet and storm out of the room, leaving your words echoing behind you.

Valeria tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter. She's not built for healthy, honest, long-lasting relationships and since she knew this would happen eventually, she's not that upset. But she is. She is upset by it. Telling herself isn't enough anymore. It doesn't stop the ache in her chest or the anger in her heart. Funnily enough, she thinks she may be angrier at herself then you.

[straightouttherosebush]

Genshin Men in a Relationship III

CHARACTERS: Itto, Gorou, Kazuha, Albedo

CONTENT WARNING: AFAB/Female! Reader (though it's generally kind of gender neutral? this is just my intended audience ig,) other than that everything should be pretty fluffy! :D

ARATAKI ITTO

Love Language: Quality Time

He/Him, Bisexual (male lean)

Will always try to find opportunities to annoy spend time with you! He will "accidentally" run into you and play it off as a coincidence.

Also makes a habit of sneaking up on and scare his partner.

Will annoy the ever loving fuck out of you when you don't show him attention or will try to distract you when you're focused.

He either needs to be with someone super serious or someone who matches his freak on catastrophic levels. Bonus if either one is shorter than him.

Favorite ways to spend time with you are... him sitting around while watching you do things (and being bored and/or enamored with you the whole time,) beetle fights, hunting for said beetles, and committing petty crimes and running away.

With a short s/o, he would LOVE carrying them on his shoulders.

GENERAL GOROU

Love Language: Physical Touch

He/Him, Questioning (female lean, if not straight)

He is such a cutie patootie, but people speak down to him in a patronizing way or tease him pretty often. That said, having someone finally treat him like an equal is something he attaches himself.

He is a soldier (technically general, but hear me out,) and he needs someone who is a leader. Someone sure of themselves and someone that he can easily collaborate with.

Tall, dominant (bonus if muscular) people are his type.

His literal job is to develop strategic plans and give orders, so not only does the strategizing transfer into him planning outings and household happenings, but he also likes to sometimes not have to plan things. That said, he's a rather submissive partner.

At first, he's really scared to let you touch his ears/tail, but as soon as he's comfortable? Having his head pet is one of his favorite things ever.

He can also be really cuddly and would attempt to big spoon his partner with his short ass

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Love Language: Quality Time

He/Him, Pansexual (no real lean, if he vibes with someone he vibes with someone.)

It's giving... "let's sit under a tree and admire the swaying and floating of the leaves, while the brisk autumn air brushes against our faces and our worries float off into the horizon."

Would also love travelling with his partner, "going where the wind takes [you both]," so to speak.

He is everyone whose love language is "words of affirmations"'s dream man, because the poems he would both write and make up on the spot for you.

He is and always has been a hopeless romantic.

He especially cherishes quality time because he learned to value peoples' presences and be grateful for what time he does have. He wants to make the most of every second. Not in a rambunctious, over-the-top way like our Oni friend, but in a calm way with meaning in every action.

Has the potential to be a househusband. Idk just a thought.

ALBEDO

Love Language: Acts of Service

He/They/It, Asexual

Generally really receptive to being taken care of, even if he insists it isn't necessary.

Especially loves when his partner makes their way all the way out to Dragonspine to bring him supplies he needs or long-lasting foods/ingredients to use during his long stays.

He also appreciates his partner keeping things organized around his alchemical lab and any help they give in his research.

He will give back to you too by giving you little trinkets or harmless samples from his escapades in the mountains and elsewhere.

Rarely comes home, but feels unspeakable joy when he is able to. Seeing you, late at night, bundled up and asleep, makes him feel warm and fuzzy, in contrast to his usual environment. You do so much for everyone around you, you deserve rest.

Alright, everyone. Soooo here's the thing with this series. I started it years ago (literally finished the first part while waiting for work to start one day,) and I'm giving all of it a rewrite, new look, and hopefully completion! I hope you guys liked this because I know I enjoyed writing fluff for a change.

So long Windblumes, ROSEY ♡

♡MASTERLIST HERE♡

Ⓒ Written by Rosey, please do not copy/repost/translate.♡

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: I'm making a prologue to a couple of things. This will be remastered, but I will link the first chapter always before I can change it.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: A man finds himself where he shouldn't be...

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Violence, Death.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Chapter 1} ⚠️Chapter 1 needs remastered.⚠️

His breath is broken; labored. He’s been running from the unknown in this damn foggy ass forest for so long that he’s unsure he could get out of it. He had lost his way a long time ago; that part was something he couldn't ignore. It feels like hes been in this forest for ages, when in reality it could have been only a couple hours. He hasn't slept, that means the day didn’t pass, right? …Where was his group? He was with a group of people he trusted with his life beforehand. He can't even find them anymore. They were close together, knowing how dangerous a foggy forest filled with things of shadows could be. Now there is nothing of them, no trace as if they had abandoned him. He definitely felt like it too: abandoned by his own brethren and sisters.

No, he can’t afford to even think right now. He knows something is pursuing him. Something smaller then huge, he's unsure. The… aura keeps shifting around him from all of his hairs on his body rising quickly up to the area feeling a lot more colder despite all of his running to keep him heated. It was… it was unusual. It feels otherworldly. Was he just getting hunted by two things or just one? Was he just imagining it with the shadows that move within the fog? He has to be. Nothing moves so quickly within the shadows like a damn phantom. He doesn't believe in ghosts!

He inhales, pausing his run to try and leave the accursed forest that looks like something out of a spooky horror movie: winding, leafless branches trying to block out the moon. The dead patches of grass here and there: creating puddles of mud. The thick fog that makes you think there is something with you, and maybe there is, for him. No, he knows there is, but he just can’t see it. He’s… he’s unable to. He doesn’t have… he doesn’t have something. He is not some apex predator like the thing hunting him.

His skin prickles at the coldness of the dark, twitching at the slightest sound. His eyes trying to see through the thickness of the fog and the night that’s only luminous by the moon. He swears he can see something small, human-sized before it’s replaced by a bigger figure a few feet away in the grayish fog, he swears it. Was this smaller figure running too? Was it a possible squad mate? If it was… he wasn’t keen on retracing his steps to just see if it was a squad mate or not. A coward he maybe called, but he really didn’t want to die to somebody else’s choices, even if it was his own.

Something snaps, echoing through the forest, and he immediately jumps back into action, not wasting his time. His legs carrying him in a direction, in any direction to get him to feel safe. He doesn’t care where at the moment. Not like he knows where he is, but he is afraid. He didn’t think he would die so soon. The age 37 didn’t play well in his heart nor mind to die at as he wished he could live until he was over a hundred. He wished he didn’t criticize the old for wanting to live that long when there was beauty left in the world he has never gotten access to see. He wished he was back a few hours ago, laughing with his squad mates. He wished he was back into the protection of his guardians.

He just fucking wishes he wasn’t in this damn spooky forest!

He lets out a quiet, dreading whimper while his own thoughts consume him for a moment. His boots thudding rhythmically; harshly into the ground. The metal decorations of his gear slightly giving a tink with each exhausting movement he does in order to keep his instincts alive. His head pounding way too fast, too loud in his head. He wants everything to stop! He doesn’t like this long feeling of fear draping over his shoulders, taunting him! Laughing at him! Urging him to—

The man yelps, falling to the ground, faceplating into the cold mud he had slipped on. The whole front of his gear and body now covered in the cold slick of the earth. His lips quivering as he looks up to the moon with glossy eyes and heaving breaths. The shine of the moon rays revealing an abandoned truck, troubled with vines and flora off to the left side of him, and he wonders… Maybe… the moon would lead him to safety? It’s the only thing that’s been helpful to him since he’s been in this damned forest of fear. Leading him to god knows where, but he follows the damn light like a kid running away with sugar they are not supposed to have.

Despite his belief of the moon saving him. He quietly whines to himself in frustration and dread. His hands grasping tightly at the mud that goes between his fingers with a squelch while he shimmy’s himself underneath the truck, taking it as a temporary safe haven until morning. If he can make it that far. His own heart is still pounding in his own ears while he tries to quiet down his whimpering breath. God! This forest is a fucking death trap! How was he supposed to get out?! Would he even get out at all? Was that possible at this point? Should he give up? 

No, he’s gotten this far—

His breathing stutters in his own lungs and stops. A whole new fear washing over him. His eyes staring at the boots that stand next to the truck, giving a little squish sound as this person shifts their weight. They were a bit small to be a male, and they seemed light, trying to be stealthy. Was this a squad mate of his? It can’t be, could it? No, they weren’t hiding like he was. They seemed more confident in their abilities… Were they… the hunter? Was this the person hunting him? This is what he was afraid of? A singular being?

Something cracks through the area again then, a low, rumbling growl as he closes his eyes briefly, expecting to be hit before slowly opening them again. It’s a warning call it sounds like, and the man takes quick note of how the persons boots… twitch at the sounds before quickly moving away, back into the shadows of the forest. That was not the person he was— should be afraid of. Something bigger is out there. Something that has complete control over the surrounding area.

He waits with bated breaths. Shifting his body onto his back. Eyes flickering up and down the underside of the truck, taking in its rusted form. Trying to calm his racing heart so he could finally hear what kind of beast was around him. Hunting him. He hopes the thing would leave him alone, forget about him, at least till the morning when he could see better. Maybe he could please the thing by giving it more of a challenge—

He lets out a scream. The truck he was hiding under was picked up and thrown away with ease. A cloud of rust eloping him, stinging his fearing eyes as he can hear the scrapped truck taking the trunks of tree’s down with a horrifying creak and rumbling thud that shook the ground. His form desperately scrabbling back with palms and boots; away from this– this dark creation of god! No, not even that. It wasn’t even a demon. This– this was something darker, something that a god didn’t– couldn’t create. This was– is a monster of pure evil. He was taught of these despicable creatures. They were not known for mercy, and he wasn't known to scream blood while the vibrant, red glare of the creature stares directly into his soul as if they were taking it out of him, collecting it for their own amusement while he chokes on his own battered body.

Perhaps… he should have never accepted the truth of these creatures. He should have stayed oblivious to their ways. Should have repented his hate as he wouldn’t be seeing the lifeless corpses up in the treetops, simply hanging there by their necks. Uselessly watching his own death come to play as if the dead knew all along that he would fall beneath their dull, blind eyes. It was a dangerous sign he realized before he took his last choking breath.

He dared to defy them and the creature would make him— them watch his death by their hand as they have died the same unfortunate fate.

[vampiricstoryteller]

Moonlight 🌙

Happy Friday everyone! I’m finally ready to present to y’all the first chapter of my new Richette series! Welcome to Moonlight!

Summary: Separated from the others, Richter and Annette must spend a night defending themselves from a demon that plays sinister mind games by turning dreams into nightmares.

All mistakes are my own 😊

read on A03 here

Warning: a few scary bits

Chapter one: Day Dreamer

Annette always found solace in her dreams. No matter what was happening in the real world, her dreams were an escape. She loved being able to dream.

When she’d been young, frightened and freshly taken from her mother; Annette forced herself into dreamland more often than she was awake. Even when her eyes were open, Annette’s mind was somewhere else far, far away.

Her brothers and sisters called her a Day Dreamer but Annette really wished she could pull a few of them inside of her mind and show them that to her, it was so much more than just dreaming.

It was survival.

It was paradise.

And Annette is sure it’s what’s kept her sane.

She could go anywhere and do anything in her dreams; fly across the ocean, run through never ending lavender fields, hold long conversations with tigers or fish, sit on a boulder at the very tip top of a mountain and breathe.

The possibilities were endless.

So Annette considers herself lucky that once she starts hunting vampires and night creatures, they don’t come for her dreams. Or maybe they can’t. She isn’t really sure, but every night when she lays down to sleep, after having sent dozens of the monsters back to their maker, she does her best to push all thoughts of the evilness surrounding her far out of her mind. Then she imagines walls standing themselves up around her dream world for protection.

And for a while it works.

Until she and Richter find themselves separated from the others, stranded, soaked to the bone from a fall into the river and now shivering while defending a weirdly abandoned and disarrayed cabin from a group of a low level but feral night creatures.

She is so so so tired.

Annette’s just finished barricading the front door with the boot bench she nearly tripped over upon entering. Tilted on its side and wedged underneath the door handle, she holds it steady and breathes through her nose as long heavy strips of magic she materialized secure the bench in place.

Behind her Richter stacks two chairs and a barely standing table horizontally over one of three windows. Outside eight night creatures scream and howl thunderously as they seem to chitter amongst themselves about how to get inside and attack.

She peeks at them through one of the bigger cracks in the door, watching them intently. They reminded her of Edouard, in a way. Their mannerism with each other less monster and more human though it was clear none of these ones could speak actual words.

Richter steps close behind her, “what’s happening out there?” He asks softly, one of his hands grips her bicep. “Annette?”

She shakes her head, leaning back against him and whispering. “They’re……talking with one another? I think trying to plan?”

Richter makes a face, squeezing her arm and he says, “I’ll go around back and surprise them, you stay here and cover those last two windows.”

Annette’s eyebrows drop into a hard frown but Richter shakes his head.

“We’ve got maybe thirty minutes before the sun is gone.” He tells her quickly, tugging her away from the door. “We’re going to have to sleep here. I need you to start reenforcing the foundation.”

She chews on her bottom lip, knowing he’s right and they have a better chance surviving til morning here than out in the woods trying to back track in the dark and find the others. She meets Richter’s gaze, nodding once and murmuring,

“Be careful, don’t let any of them escape.”

“I won’t.” Richter promises and squeezes her arm one last time before they part ways.

She watches him quietly sprint towards the back of the cabin, a smile gracing her lips when he remembers to pull the door shut behind him.

Annette tip toes over to the second window, picking up a dusty and dirty table cloth on her way which she uses to cover the window. Just as she begins stacking the last two chairs in they have in front of it, she hears Richter attack the night creatures outside.

She listens to his grunts of effort and the sound of his fists breaking the night creatures bones, chuckling at him clearly using the opportunity to warm up after their icy journey down however many miles the river carried them.

Placing her hands on the seats of the stacked chairs, Annette bites her lip and presses down with her magic. At her feet, the ground opens enough to grab hold of several inches of the chair legs; turning the unsteady barrier into something pillar like.

As she steps back, Annette’s arms begin to tingle with exhaustion; the palms of her hands hot like she’s unknowingly taken hold of hot coals.

She tries to ignore the feeling as a small dark fireplace off to her right catches her eye. All of the tools needed to stoke a fire, keep it going and put it out are untouched and remain neatly arranged on hooks. Upon closer inspection, Annette spots several half burnt pieces of logs in the pit and she wonders if whoever lived her was forced out much more recently than they’d realized.

A great thud shakes the cabin, nearly startling her out of her skin. Richter has sent a night creature hurtling into the wall and Annette can hear it choking on its own blood as she hurries over to the last window near the back door.

Looking around, Annette scrambles for a moment, everything is the house is either broken beyond repair or not remotely sturdy enough to bother put in the effort of securing it against the window as a guard.

She decided that a pile of bricks, strung haphazardly in a corner for whatever forgotten reason will have to do. They’re heavier than they should be in her hands and Annette wonders, as she meticulously builds them up on the ledge, whether or not she’ll end up in a exhausted dreamless pit when she’s finally able to close her eyes.

Outside there’s one final screech of shock from a night creature, followed by Richter’s deep growl of “shut the fuck up”, a sickening crunch and then silence.

Annette sways on her feet a bit, squinting at the bricks layering the window. Her attempt to root them in place is weak at best but it will have to do for now.

The tips of her fingers pulse in and out of numbness, making her flex the digits and clench her firsts several times over. She turns to face Richter when he comes through the back door, an exhausted smile on his face.

“Everything out there has been handled,” he says proudly. “I even had time to wipe our tracks all the way back to river, and!”

He shifts his body, revealing to her that he’s got two fish hanging off his thumb; he holds them up high and his grin practically splits his face in half.

“Look at you,” Annette murmurs wrapping her arms around herself. “Thinking ahead for once in your life.”

Richter’s eyes sweep over her entirely, “I figured we could use a bit of a reward for the day we’ve had.” He glances around the abandoned cabin. “Not sure how we’ll cook them though.”

Annette turns slightly and points towards the window she built the chair tower in front of. “There’s a small fireplace over there, we can make it work.”

Richter nods, his footsteps quiet as he hangs the fish on a left over meat hook that hangs in front of the chimney that may or may not be blocks. Annette can’t be bothered to worry about it right now, they’ll find out either way soon enough.

She closes her eyes for a moment, frowning at the unusual headache that has settled itself right behind her temples. Richter’s boots on the dirt floor alert her to the fact he’s returned to her side and when Annette blinks her eyes open blearily, she can see the concern radiating from him.

“Annette, are you okay?” He asks. “Did you get hurt?”

She shakes her head, “Just cold and tired, my head feels like I must of hit it on some rocks or something.”

Richter moves into her space immediately, bending his knees so he can lean close as he hovered around her head. “I don’t see any blood, do you want me to check?”

Annette chuckles and pats his shoulder, shaking her head. “I’m fine Richter, it’s just been a long day.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “What I do want though, is for you to start the fire and make us some fish.”

He blinks, meeting her eyes for a moment before nodding happily and clapping his hands together. “Right, fire, dinner. I can do that.”

Richter points towards the two windows she secured. “You did good, Annette. I’ll freeze the back door when I’m done with the wood.”

“Okay,” she nods, happy to have a plan. “I’ll look and see if there are any salvageable blankets or clothes.”

She can feel Richter’s eyes on her back as she turns, walking stiffly from the kitchen back into the sitting room; if the two rooms could even be seriously labeled as such. Annette ignores him but keeps her ears tuned to his footsteps while he collects tree branches in close proximity.

She takes her time rummaging through the ransacked mess thats strewn all over the place, picking through some strangers mess makes her feel overtly exposed and more than once she catches herself looking over her shoulder towards the barricaded door.

Shaking herself, Annette drapes a torn but thick blanket over her arm and even comes across a winter coat, though it’s missing the entire right sleeve. She’s also able to recover a pair of relatively clean socks and half of a bedroll.

Mumbling a quick prayer of thanks, she sets the clothing and blanket aside to focus on clearing space in front of the fire for them. She mostly just shoves everything towards the door until she’s shaking from effort and wobbly when standing straight.

She’s on the second to last pile when Richter’s rhythmic footsteps bring him inside and from the corner of her eye Annette watches him emerge with fire wood stacked in his arms to the point she almost can’t make out his face.

“This should be enough right?” He asks his boots thudding as he side steps over to the fireplace.

“More than enough Richter,” Annette chuckles. “Why did you get so much? We’ll only be here one night.”

He drops the wood at the mouth of the fireplace and crouches to be begin neatly lining it a long the wall. After the first few pieces, he turns his head towards her and says,

“You’ve been shaking since we got here. So, either you’re much colder than I am or you’re hurt and hiding it from me.” He offers her a easy smile when she bristles. “Either way we have to get you warm, so I’m going to keep the fire going all night.”

Annette shuffles her weight between her feet, letting her shoulders sag a bit. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to hide how much the days events had truly wiped her.

“I’m not hurt, not really.” She replies shrugging. “Probably be bruised up tomorrow and the day after but, I’m just tired, Richter.”

She pushes a few still damp locs out of her eyes. “I found a few things we can use to help stay warm.” Motioning to the pile she set aside, Annette tilts her head and theorizes aloud. “The blanket is big enough to share, it’s got a tear in it but it’s manable, and the coat will fit you. The bedroll will be a tight fit but the shared body heat is probably our best bet to not freeze.”

Richter nods, done stacking the wood in rows along the wall and immediately setting to work on getting the fire going. While he double checks the the opening of the chimney is clear; by tossing several chunks of ice up and cheering when they hear them rolling off the roof, Annette sets the bedroll on the flattest part of the ground that she can find, angling it so that they’ll face the fireplace and have a wall at their back for protection.

She has just settled on the ground and began unlacing her boots when the Richter claps in triumph and jumps to his feet happily. Turning to face her, he grins and motions down the pit of the fireplace, where a bright orange flame has rippled to life and grows steadily.

Annette claps for him, thoroughly amused by the way he keens under her praise.

He steps over to the bedroll, watching her tug off her boots and peel off her still soaked socks. She lays them out in front of the fire and wiggles her toes, happy to have her feet free from confinement.

“I figured we can lay our clothes out to dry while we slept.” Annette says lightly,

Richter looks down at himself the same time her eyes sweep over his figure. He discards his shirt first, both of them ignoring the blushes that break out over their faces, hanging it next to the fish he caught and shrugs on the winter coat Annette points him towards.

With his back to her, Annette wiggles out of her damp pants; begrudging the fact that her now loose shirt, sort of dry undergarments and the socks she’d salvaged would have to serve as sleeping clothes for the night.

She spreads the slightly torn blanket over her lap, pleased when it cascades out across the ground like an ocean. Richter’s boots hitting the ground with a jumbled thud brings Annette’s attention back to him.

He’s moved back over to the fireplace, poking at some of the logs to give them pockets of air. His socks and shoes are gone, his pant legs rolled up to his knees and the coat Annette found for him is draped over his shoulders like a cape.

Annette wants to be annoyed at herself for how much she’s staring at his bare chest but if she tries to have more than one or two complex thoughts the ache behind her temples starts up again.

She’ll scold herself tomorrow after she’s had a nice long visit to somewhere peaceful in her dreams.

They stay in comfortable silence while Richter guts and cleans the fish, throwing the unnecessary parts into the center of the fire; giving the cabin a strange fish like aroma and Annette huddles under the blanket, her knees drawn up to her chest as she tries to focus on warming up.

She still can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching them and her eyes dart from window to window while she rubs rhythmically at her shins. It’s not until Richter hands her a broken plate with slightly charred meat on it that Annette is able to pull her gaze back to the fire and man in front of her.

“Where’d you go?” Richter asks softly as he sits next to her on the bedroll.

Throwing him a confused look, Annette gathers a bit of fish between her fingers and scoops it into her mouth.

“I’m right here, Richter.” She says around the mouthful.

He chuckles, fingers scraping at his own food. “You’re here physically yes but there’s such a far away look in your eye.” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

Annette shakes her head, lowering her plate into her lap.

“Today has just been…..off…” she glances at the closest window again. “Us being separated from the group, being pushed into the river, the strange night creatures and now……”

Richter reaches over, placing one of his hands on top of hers; his is massive compared to hers but Annette sighs contently at the feeling.

“I have this unsettling feeling that we are being watched, by something that we cannot see.” She whispers, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

She’s not scared, she knows she’s not; so why is her body acting this way?

Richter squeezes her hand and when they meet eyes he nods slowly.

“I feel it too.” He murmurs.

Annette’s eyes widen and she scoots closer to Richter even though there’s only inches between them to start.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He explains. “I’ve searched and looked everywhere but we’re here alone,”

“And yet……” she trails off.

“It hasn’t tried to harm us yet, maybe it’s simply curious.” Richter shrugs. “Let’s just finish eating and try to sleep, we can leave at first light.”

Annette nods, shivering when he pulls his hand away to return eating. She does the same, her fingers still dipping in and out of numbness as she tries to focus on only the food in front of her and not the feeling of dread that’s curling in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take long for them to figure out a sleeping arrangement that will keep them close, warm and comfortable. Well, it doesn’t take long but it does take a lot of shuffling, blushing and slotting their bodies together while they lay on their sides on the shredded bedroll.

Annette protests at Richter’s insistence that she have the blanket and she tries to ignore the way his ears turn red when he finally noticed that her legs are bare.

“You’re being ridiculous, Richter.” She sighs in exasperation. “The blanket is big enough for the both of us, and that coat is missing a sleeve it’s not enough to keep you warm.”

She opens the blanket to him, pleased when it seems he’s going to scoot closer and she fluffs the fabric a bit then tosses it over him. But the Belmont surprises her by shifting onto his back, putting his arm around her and tucking her practically on top of him.

“Richter!” Annette hisses, her face warming when she looks up at him and realizes their faces are closer than they’ve probably ever been.

He only grins in response, the coat draped over his shoulder thats out in the open while he curls one arm around Annette’s lower back. His hand coming to rest lightly on her hip.

“You need me to have some of the blanket, I need you to have some of my body heat.” He says casually, adjusting the blanket where he thinks it’s needed. “We both get what we want this way.”

Annette rolls her eyes fondly, “I hardly think today was anything like what either of us want.”

She rests her head on his chest slowly, her ear over his heart and the steady thump of the organ is the first real comfort she’s had all day.

Annette lets out a breath, her body relaxing against Richter as she exhales deeply and closes her eyes. Richter squeezes her hip, his voice low when he speaks,

“Annette, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

She keeps her eyes closed, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

“Yes, I know.” She whispers, her fingers press into his side and find the spaces between his ribs. “Tomorrow will be better Richter, I just need to rest.”

Annette’s not completely sure if he responds or not, because her mind is finally descending towards sleep and that’s all she has wanted since breakfast. She leans into the darkness, knowing her dreams are just on the other side of unconsciousness and that Richter is there in reality to protect her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richter keeps his grip on Annette tight as he feels her drop off into sleep. She needs it. She deserves it. And Richter finds that more and more every day, he is willing to do anything to make sure Annette gets everything good she deserves.

She’s not wrong that the entire day had been off. There’d been a change in the air, a scent that lingered under his nose all day, a shadow that followed behind them just far enough to be dismissed as a trick of the light.

Something was stalking them.

Hunting Annette.

Richter could tell she was the target by how quickly the day drained her, how far away her mind retreated when her body sensed she had become someone’s prey.

And Richter feared that whatever it was had intentionally set its sight upon Annette, purposely separated them from the others and now had something sinister planned. It wanted them isolated. It wanted Annette alone and vulnerable.

He had to figure out why, he had to figure out how to kill it because even as she sleeps in his arms hidden away by the blanket and him; Annette still shakes. She’s afraid, subconsciously, which makes it all the worse.

It’s like she knows something means to take her from him. Like she’s preparing for it.

Which is why Richter vows to himself, as he lays on the ground holding the small Haitian to his chest; and from the corner of his eye watching the dark figure that stands statue still out the window he barricaded,

‘No one is going to take you from me, Annette.’ He promises, bringing one hand up to hide her face away with the blanket. ‘I’ll kill God himself before I let you go.’

To Be Continued……..

Chapter 2 will be out tomorrow around this time 🤟🏾