#at least the ones that just got lost and then set up camp inside for as long as i tolerate them

[tjerra14]

PSA for the neverending influx of spiders: if you want to avoid premature eviction when sharing a flat with me, not dropping from the ceiling hanging suspended at head-height while deciding how to proceed from there twice on a single evening would be a good place to start

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex

Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut. 

Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao

You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either. 

On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry. 

You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women. 

He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.

You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.

He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him. 

Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question. 

“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.

He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before. 

He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you. 

“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?” 

“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group. 

“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends. 

“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.” 

He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened. 

Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone  attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker. 

Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay. 

“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly. 

“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire. 

The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways. 

You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.

“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”

Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry) 

The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line. 

“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”

“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.” 

It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you. 

You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease. 

You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle. 

“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets. 

He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane. 

“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp. 

Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. 

“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown  branches from the larger trees. 

“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.” 

You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy. 

“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?” 

“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list. 

“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend. 

“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you. 

“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly. 

“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.” 

“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”

You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long. 

You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl. 

He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle. 

Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on. 

“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows. 

Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils. 

You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this. 

Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it. 

He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes. 

You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips. 

“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down. 

He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it. 

“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face. 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” 

Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak. 

You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth. 

He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt. 

You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there. 

He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made. 

You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right. 

“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction. 

“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs. 

When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic. 

“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.

He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs. 

You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed. 

Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you. 

He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around. 

You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud. 

Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped. 

“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up. 

Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed. 

“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you. 

He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie. 

You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths. 

He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. 

The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you. 

“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you. 

What Daryl  didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him. 

“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.” 

He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow. 

Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips. 

You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time. 

His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making. 

“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth. 

His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin. 

He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet. 

“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.” 

He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time. 

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder. 

The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.

“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you. 

“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you. 

All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist. 

“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete. 

“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his. 

The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it. 

You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.

Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.

 Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you. 

“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds. 

“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.” 

He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted. 

“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit. 

“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”

You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement. 

The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again. 

Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions. 

“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies. 

It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp. 

Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck. 

And his fly was still down. 

“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.

“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.” 

“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face. 

“Hey.”

“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already. 

“Think she’ll give me a ride?”

“Shut the hell up, man.” 

[justporo]

Blood running amongst us

No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.

Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.

That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.

MASTERLIST | AO3 | PART 2

Author's Note: I wanted to write some smut again when I got that request asking for Astarion receiving some sweet sweet head. And he will. But you know I wouldn't be me if it didn't completely spiral out of hand. So this willl be a hopefully nutritious three-course meal (plus dessert maybe?) - this being merely the appetizer. Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, foreplay, blood kink, light predator/prey dynamic, dryhumping

Wordcount: 2,1k

The day had been strenuous for all of you. Your adventures had been tiring before you had entered the cursed Shadowlands but now it had taken on a wholly new quality of exhausting.

All of it weighed especially heavy on Astarion it seemed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Not only was the fact that he was once more surrounded by darkness the cause of a perpetuous knot in his stomach but there was nearly nothing here to keep him fed. It was more than just an uneasy feeling that had become his continuous companion roaming these godsforsaken lands.

His usually glinting crimson eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle and the dark circles around them seemed deeper than you had ever seen them before. His behaviour had become a lot more skittish again too: eyes flitting around as if he feared his old master could await around every corner now.

It made your chest clench in agony to see him like that. Especially since he had opened up a little about his past and what pain it had meant to become and be a vampire.

Now he'd barely begun to enjoy a bit of sunlight and freedom again, only to be thrown back into the shadows. Like a flower that had just sprung up only to be wilting away so quickly again.

You wouldn't let that happen. You swore it silently to yourself as you kept watching the man that had managed to make your heart stir, despite everything.

Not that you had planned to fall for the pale elf that had grazed your neck with a blade the first time you'd met. It hadn't exactly been love at first sight. And now you didn’t quite know how you would ever tell him. But all gods above and below be damned, you would rip your own heart out and hand it to him on a silver platter if only it meant, Astarion would be safe and happy.

But thankfully this wasn’t yet needed - a bit of blood this far had sufficed to nurture him. And you had an idea how to make him at least temporarily forget some of the worries he so obviously was carrying around with himself.

Immediately when your party set up camp for the night you sauntered over to your vampire, dragging him into his tent telling him that he should feed on you. You would make sure to take some of the worry off him - make him feel happy.

“My, aren’t you a little too desperate to get my fangs sunk into your neck, darling?” Astarion teased, one eyebrow lifted. His tone sounded a little flat compared to his usual flamboyant manner. But he still obviously wouldn’t reject your generous offer. You laid down on his bedroll like you were used to from all the times before to let the vampire climb on top of you so he could easily access your graciously offered neck.

It had become a well practised ritual between the two of you. All steps meticulously planned out and followed through. You were laying on your back, trying to stay relaxed. But an exhilarating mix of anticipation and some kind of primal fear took hold of you like usual. Your hands became a little clammy and your fingers began to tap a nervous tune as you watched Astarion kneel down beside you. After all, you were about to hand yourself over to a mortal predator.

For now though, it was merely the anticipation nearly killing you - or was there something else to it?

If you were honest with yourself, it was more than instinctual fear that made the pace of your heart pick up. The whole process was - as you had quickly found out - incredibly intimate and titillating; despite - or rather because of - the pain.

You knew that as much, if not more, was true for the vampire as well. In fact, it was often quite evident - and not only because he enjoyed taking his time when he saw you already quivering beneath you.

Not uncommonly after Astarion had taken enough of your blood to keep up his strength did the tension in the air become overwhelming and lead to both your bodies entangling further and a night was quickly wasted away wrapped up fully in each other.

For now though he had you pinned to the ground beneath him with the way his knee slid between your legs, one hand next to your head and the other gently wandering over the delicate skin of your throat. Cool, smooth fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to steady you for him - one by one.

His grip was firm. You knew his fingers would soon dig into your soft flesh even harder - as soon as his instincts at least partially took the better of him. It was those moments that had your heart gallop near to collapse: knowing what he was while you were fully assured that Astarion was very well capable of keeping the reins on himself firmly.

The vampire hovered over you as you watched him close in on you, your heart beat tumbling. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

His angelic face above you could have been enough to forget everything else-

But you mustn’t lose track of your objective - he was the sole focus tonight. As hard as it was with Astarion’s crimson eyes already devouring you as he bared his fangs right above where your racing heart beat showed him where his lifeline laid.

You wrapped your arms gently around him when he leaned into you. Some of his bodyweight settled down comfortably on you, rendering you fully immovable. You didn’t mind in the slightest as he pressed you down to the ground.

And as soon as Astarion’s thigh pressed between your legs, brushing against your core as he pinned you down more, coherent thoughts evaporated.

People had always only taught you to run from the big bad monster. No one had ever told you what might happen if you ever got caught. No one had ever mentioned the thrilling sensation of being in the monster’s grasp, feeling its grip tighten around you. No one had ever spoken of the intense pleasure between the two heartbeats of fangs grazing your skin and them sinking in, the breath that was held and the muscles that tensed.

No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.

Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.

That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.

Right now you felt the familiar shot of pain echo through you that quickly turned into this icy, numbing sensation that felt weirdly pleasant. A soft mewl left your lips as Astarion began drinking your blood. He could always feel how your heartbeat quickened even more as he indulged in your exquisite and generous offering of blood. The taste was promisingly and uniquely you, nothing would ever compare to this.

For a few long moments the tent was filled with nothing but soft moans and whimpers. Something you hoped would linger when Astarion would’ve had his share of blood from you to keep up his strength.

So - time to set up a trap on your own.You let your hands softly wander over his back, pressing down gently so he would lower himself fully onto you. And when he quickly let himself be roped in by you and your tender offer, you made your hips roll into him, eliciting a groan from Astarion as he was still buried in your neck.

You were delighted by the friction it caused. Every tiny bit of traction made the coil in your lower body wind tighter - until this alone could have become your undoing.

And to your satisfaction you clearly felt the vampire’s desire already manifest too. Only hesitantly had Astarion admitted to you how arousing the whole act felt for him. How he hadn’t be prepared for the primitive lust it caused him to have you like this, to taste you. And how it had taken every last ounce of his self-control that first night he’d drunk your blood to not take you right then and there until you would have been nothing but an overstimulated, drained whimpering mess.

Now he embraced this sensation and latched onto it deliberately.

His hardening length was pressing against your stomach now with the way you worked on eliminating even the last bit of space in between you. Instinctively and subconsciously he began slowly grinding into you. You coaxed him on with breathless, almost obscene gasps and moans spilling from you and rolling your hips against him again and again. Effectively grinding on his thigh between your legs.

The two of you stayed like this in this unbelievably intimate embrace, lewdly writhing against each other as you offered Astarion the life force he needed.

He could have kept living off meagre critters. But getting to indulge in your exquisite, incomparable taste heightened the pleasure and sensation tenfold for the vampire - the difference between merely surviving and enjoying life and all the sinful pleasures it had to offer to the fullest.

A whole eternity passed as you felt Astarion’s fingertips dig harder and harder into your neck - just as you had wished for. Only part of the beast within the vampire was unleashed - the part that enjoyed playing and teasing and made it enjoyable for both of you. The delicious pain added onto the hazy, floaty numbness spreading through your body and made your eyes roll back. The moan that drifted off your lips was immediately answered by Astarion with another groan of his own. The faint metallic scent of your blood filled the air.

You felt his rock hard cock drag along you. You were already desperately longing for it.

But this was first and foremost about your vampire tonight.

He bucked his hips into you harder now, almost losing control. But Astarion always remained having the upper hand in the end.

When he finally withdrew from you, you saw how the pupils in his eyes were diluted. Giving him more animalistic than humanoid air. The creature within him was barely in check.

He licked a last trickle of blood off his lips as he sat up again, sitting back on his legs. And with the gesture you saw him regain some of his composure, the man getting a hold on his more primal side again.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage as you observed Astarion. You got up onto your elbows at first and then sat up while the vampire took deep breaths, trying to find the anchor within him again. A massive bulge was clearly outlining against his pants.

Astarion’s crimson eyes wandered slowly up your body. Surely your arousal must be visible too, you already felt your nipples press against your shirt and how sweat made it stick to your torso.

“You’re playing dangerous games, my sweet love,” Astarion murmured, sounding breathless despite his lack of needing respiration. One of his hands was clawing into his knee, the grip slowly loosening the more breaths he took. With his other he tried to capture an escaped drop of your blood before it would be lost. He surely couldn’t be accused of letting anything go to waste.

As you gazed upon him, you saw that some of the vigour he’d recently been missing had returned to him. Which was most prominently evident by his cock achingly straining against his pants.

Your eyes dropped to it and your tongue darted out to wet your lips subconsciously.

“Maybe I enjoy that,” you replied firmly, catching his gaze and holding it while you crawled over to him. He smirked softly at you as you prowled closer.

“Proceed at your own caution then, darling,” he replied, purring the last word. You hummed contentedly, smiled and pressed an almost chaste kiss to his soft lips. It felt almost innocent after what you had just engaged in. He kissed you back just as lightly.

And when you had lured him with your gentle caress, you pushed him back by his shoulders, making him fall backwards.

The vampire gasped curtly but was already smirking lasciviously at you as you roamed closer with a grin that bared your teeth - as if the roles were reversed now.

He’d fallen right into your trap.

You had brought him to an edge once already this night.

You would take him to another - and then beyond.

~~~

Part 2

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 2

pt 1 / pt3

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)

Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.

TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting

I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.

I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off. 

I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there. 

"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.

After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.

"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."

I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.

There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.

"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.

At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over. 

I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."

At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."

I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.

"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.

"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid. 

We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.

"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed. 

"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed. 

I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring. 

After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.

-

I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."

I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.

"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.

"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.

He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"

I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again. 

"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."

"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."

"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.

He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"

"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out. 

We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him. 

"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. 

"Wha-" I asked confused.

"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me. 

Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off. 

I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me. 

"A fiend." I thought to myself.

Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.

-

The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed. 

"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me. 

I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"

"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along. 

A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal. 

I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"

"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.

"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.

Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office. 

"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face. 

"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.

I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.

"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him. 

"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.

"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.

I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.

I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.

I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me. 

"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.

He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."

"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face. 

"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.

"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve. 

He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him. 

An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.

tag list: @msrawog

[froggibus]

Roadtrip - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Baptiste, Lucio & Mauga

Genre: fluff, some crack lol

Summary: take a summer roadtrip with your favorite OW man

CW: irresponsible/reckless driving, cops (Cassidy's), drinking (not while driving I promise), Genji slander, camping, very fun summer vibes w this one

This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Cassidy:

definitely takes you through the midwest somewhere

insists on driving the whole way but its ok cause he has an insane sense of direction

like knows every road and shortcut like the back of his hand

tries to pretend like he doesn’t like your music but ends up singing along

loves stopping in old local diners

at least once the owner of a bar recognizes him and reminds him that he’s banned for life

and somehow he ends up talking the owner into letting you guys stay??

only drinks black coffee and pretends like he enjoys it

you forced him to try an overly sweet 6$ coffee one time and now he insists on stopping for one in every town

pretends to obey traffic laws but speeds whenever you’re on a backroad

a cop tries to pull him over and suddenly he turns into Max Verstappen and is offroading through a random field to lose them

“what the fuck is happening”

“I’m winnin’.”

you guys get takeout and eat it on the tailgate of his truck

stops at any bar that advertises live music 

will sing all the words all dorky to you and try to get you to dance with him

wants to stay on the road with you forever

Genji:

do not let this man drive he can’t drive for shit

wants to go somewhere neither of you have been before, but doesn’t really have a solid plan

matcha lattes at EVERY stop

you camp rather than stay in a hotel cause he never got to as a kid

like he’s never even tried a s’more or had a campfire before

chooses the most beautiful campsites ever with pretty beaches

neither of you can figure out how to set up the tent so you end up piling the blankets and pillows in your car and sleeping in the trunk

it’s surprisingly cozy though

also he totally winds up cuddling you for warmth

takes SO MANY pictures 

insists on using a paper map because he wants a more “authentic” feel 

results in you guys getting lost in the woods at least once

picks up handcrafted flavoured marshmallows at literally every gas station you stop at so he can make different kinds of s'mores

some of the flavours get wild too—like maple bacon or banana split

weirdly good at roadtrip games

brings his Switch or something so he can play Pokemon while you drive + names the ones he catches after the models of nearby cars

you end up staying on the trip way longer than intended because you guys have so much fun

Hanzo:

has a meticulously planned schedule of where you’ll visit and when

wants to take you through the Japanese countryside, maybe stop at a beach or two

very careful driver 

has a Nissan Versa that he babies and refuses to let you eat inside of (though if you bat your eyes at him enough, he’ll give in)

brings a polaroid camera so he can take pictures of all the beautiful sites

keeps the polaroids in a little folder tucked into the glovebox

refuses to get fast food and insists on stopping at cute local cafes

has packed for literally every possible occasion in only one tiny bag

you ask him to stop so you can buy something weird and obscure and he just so happens to have it

“I really wish I had Shrek 2 on DVD right now”

“check the glovebox”

???

has a soft spot for roadside fruit stands and had to stop at every single one to buy stuff 

the whole trunk is filled with fruit. there’s no escape

lets you play whatever music you like and will have your favourite songs memorized by the end of the trip

prefers experiences to souvenirs, but if you buy him a keychain or something he’ll treasure it forever

Baptiste:

annoyingly slow driver

everyone is passing you guys

has a pretty solid plan of where he wants to go but he’s open to feedback

has an immaculate sense for choosing the best local restaurants

always wants to try the most niche food combos he can find—like deep fried milk

needs to have his water bottle, an energy drink and a fun drink or else he can’t drive

wears sunscreen in the car and stops every few hours to reapply

cringes at your driving no matter how you drive and definitely gives you at least one (1) lecture about the dangers of speeding

loves tourist traps and wants to stop at every one you pass

insists on getting those dorky commemorative t-shirts from said tourist attractions so that the two of you can match

loves salt water taffy and looks for fun weird flavours wherever you find them

his entire centre console ends up being FULL of them by the end of the trip

he has the ac in the car on full blast to the point you’re shivering

not big on taking pictures but loves videos—he has about a thousand of the two of you trying new fun drinks and snacks

it’s been so long since he was able to be on the road without worrying about Talon—and he never wants to go back

Lucio:

nobody is more fun than him on a road trip

has a super fun car that he’s souped up and decorated to hell

the car has window tint so dark that you can’t see into it

does not obey traffic laws. you’re getting so many tickets, im sorry

buys those window markers so the two of you can draw on them when you’re bored

chooses the music and probably has a thirty hour long meticulously curated playlist

car singalongs all day

drinks so many energy drinks you’re surprised his heart still works

wants to stop in every single town to try their local specialties 

doesn’t really have a solid plan or anything, just wants to hit the road and see where you end up

wears increasingly goofy disguises when going out in public

“omg is that Lucio?”

“where?”

gets dragged into performing at least one impromptu concert somewhere

takes turns driving with you so the other can rest and reads out gossip articles about himself to entertain you

every hotel you stay in is a different gimmick and he goes crazy for it. the sillier the better

posts cute pictures of the two of you on his insta and is always taking candids

wants to make your roadtrip an annual thing

Mauga:

insists on taking his big ass Jeep that he refers to as “Little Betty” and refuses to let anyone else drive ‘her’ 

completely reckless driver too

drives with one hand on the wheel, music way too loud, the windows down even when you’re going like 110

he lets you pick the music as long as its upbeat 

constantly drinking some weird protein shake 

absolutely no plan of where he wants to go, just wants to hit up some nice beaches

has all of your stuff crammed in the back so high that you couldn’t possibly see out of the back window

drives in the sluttiest skimpiest tank top ever 

wants to try all the local cocktails and party in every town you stop in

gets drunk and becomes best friends with everyone he meets

needs to collect a Hawaiian print shirt in every place you stop in to commemorate the occasion

wants more than anything to teach you how to surf

he stops at every beach you pass and BEGS you to try it out

either wants to sleep in a five star hotel or on the beach with no shelter. there is no inbetween

takes one awkward blurry picture of the two of you throughout the entire trip and puts it in his wallet

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[yuriisclumsy]

HELLO !! I SEE THAT YOU WRITE FOR CALE HENITUSE :d you've got good taste that man makes me feral i love that unbelievable idiot :D

Whadoyyathink about Cale being with someone who's weaker than him but she's kinda useful (one of pookie's powers is to boost someone's abilities, it generally doesn't matter if the one she's aiding doesn't have magical powers, they just have to be good at something like for example, painting and swordsmanship—she can enhance their ability and knowledge temporarily).

She's a mage that's dying the more she exploits her mana. She tried to not use too much, but in a reality where she and everyone suddenly got thrusted into war? She couldn't help but use, use, use.

None of em knew her degrading lifespan until one day she just told em casually when the gang asks wtf is wrong w u why do you look like u r boutta die and why do you keep passing out sometimes

If this is too much feel free to ignore, though thank you for reading :D

Will you stay by my side forever?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,443

[Authors Note]: This thing took me so long to make because I couldn't figure out what setting to write it on. Besides getting a bit tired of only writing for Cale back when I was consistent with the requests. But, hi! I'm back! At least just for this one. This request is back from May 💀. I still have two more, one from June, the other from July. So I might come back and do those. Do people want a part 4 for Love's Dance?

»»►Ouuu, what a fun scenario.

»»►Apologies in advance if it’s a bit weird, haven’t read or written for Cale in a while, so I might have lost my touch.

»»►Warning (I never really do these, but I thought it would be appropriate): could be inaccurate to the Henituse War Arc because I have yet to read it.

»»►Also, the POV is different on this one.

Dragons.

Powerful beings, capable of destroying us all if they wanted to.

One thing they weren’t meant for was to let humans ride them and control them like animals. They had far greater intelligence than any being in existence. 

So why should they submit to us?

The skies are filled with erratic bat-winged lizards; their flames and roars were scattered all over the field.

This was a war.

Dragons…What pesky creatures. I already have one to deal with, I don’t need more.

“Choi Han!”

“Yes, Master Cale?” said man came within seconds and kneeled in front of him.

“I need you to scout out the area in the east for me,” I commanded.

“On it,” and with that, he left as fast as he came.

I already know how all of this will pan out, but a little safety never hurt no one…

“Master Cale!”

“Hmm?” I turned to see one of the city guards running in a hurry towards me. “What is it? Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I-it’s lady [Name]! S-hes…” the guard gasped for air from the run.

“Easy, calm down… Now tell me, what’s wrong with [Name]?” I patted him in the back.

Recuperating the lost oxygen, the guard went serious and looked at me. “Lady [Name] has lost a great deal of blood and fainted..! S-she just started to cough and— M-master Cale–? Where are you going?!” The Guard shouted at me, but all noise was shut down by my mind.

That instinct to check on those you care about kicked in the moment I heard the word blood being uttered.

I ran.

Ran, and ran, until I was able to see the camp where she had been stationed at by me. A camp far from the battlefield, but close enough for me to constantly check-up on her.

How could a thing like this happen to me? I had just checked on you a few hours ago, so why? Why are you suddenly bleeding?

The men there stood aside as I ran past them. They understood not to be on my way with the expression I wore on my face.

“Where is she?!” I yelled to the men crowding a tent. I already knew my answer when they looked at me  and then at the inside with sad expressions.

I burst in and scanned the area to look for the woman I ran miles to see. I paused. There, on a bed on the far corner of the shelter, was her. [Name]. Medics surrounded her with yet more sad faces.

I walked slowly towards them, not wanting to know if what I had in my mind were to be true. “Is she alright?” I asked when I was a mere few feet away from the bed.

The head doctor looked at me with furrowed brows and sighed. He then gave me a smile when he saw my eyes, filled with worry.

“She is fine,” he said. I let the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “But she has lost a great deal of blood. I need her to stay in bed for a few days, and another more of pure rest until I see her health back up again.”

“I see… Thank you.”

“No need, it’s my job,” the doctor looked at the other two, who I believe to be his apprentices, and gestured to them to exit with him. “I’ll leave you alone with her,” he patted my shoulder as he left.

I stood there for a bit, before I went and sat on the bed right next to hers. I stared at her face; the face that made my heart jump from excitement wherever I saw a smile; the face that l would look at and made me feel better instantly; the face that made me fall deeply in love with her.

“...Cale?” a voice rang in my ears which made me snap out of my trance. My eyes meet with hers.

“[Name]...you’re awake,” I let out simply. She smiled at me, relieving me from the aching I had in my heart moments prior. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded. Her eyes were filled with a love I can’t put in words, stared at mine. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she said sadly.

My eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault.”

“...” she stayed silent. She turned her head to the other side, blocking my view of her expression. I knew this move of her’s. She did this whenever she was hiding something. And then I realized something. I hadn’t asked what the cause of the blood was.

“[Name]...” I called to her, “..this wasn’t your fault…was it?”

“...I’m sorry,” she apologized and let out a low sob. “I didn’t want for any of you to find out this way….”

I was in disbelief. What possibly could she have done to cause such blood loss other than a stab wound…had she...?

“[Name], tell me… You didn’t cut yourself, have you?”

She quickly looked at me, “no, of course not, I would never do something as bad as hurting myself!” She reassured me.

That’s good…but that doesn’t answer how she had lost a lot of blood.

“Then…why were you bleeding?”

“...That’s..a long story.”

“I have all day,” I crossed my legs and rested my head on the palm of my hand.

“...”

“...”

She sighted thinking I would give up on the subject, but I’m far too stubborn to give up. “I lost a lot of blood because…”

“Because…?”

“Because of my ability…” she finally said.

“Your ability..? The ability to enhance abilities?” I asked in thought.

“Yes.”

“How exactly does your ability work then?”

“Well, you know that I can upgrade someone's abilities, yes?” I nod, and she continues, “but what I didn’t tell you was the toll it comes with.”

“Toll? Wait, have you been hurting yourself while using your ability?” I accuse her.

“No! Well…yeah, but exactly how you think…” that wasn't very convincing. “Whenever I use my power, it takes energy from my body. The more I use it, the weaker I get.”

“...”

“Please don’t be mad at me…” she pleaded with puppy eyes.

“...I’m not mad.”

“I feel like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” I straightened my back, “but I will have you permanently stop using that power of yours.”

“What!?” She sat up at lighting speed, and groaned out of pain.

“Don’t sit up so quickly,” I got up and held her back.

“Y-you can’t just…prohibit me from using my power! How else would I be useful to you? How would I earn money!?”

I didn’t say anything. Then an idea came to mind. My ears were burning at the thought.

Taking courage, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at the word I was about to say.

“...I’m firing you,” I said.

“...Huh?” She looked heartbroken. Oh, how I can’t see you like that. “no…No, no. Please, let me work for you. Please, Cale!” She grabbed my arms in an attempt to make me rethink my decision.

“No, my choice is final,” she was at the brink of crying. “Instead… I want you to stay by my side.”

“What..do you mean?” Her eyes gawk at me with tear drops threatening to spill out.

“Let me rephrase myself so you can understand,” I cleared my throat, “I would like for you to be mine.”

We stared into each others eyes. She shed a tear from before, but not out of frustration, or grief of a lost job, but out of love and affection. She chuckled.

“Is this your way of courting me?”

“Is it bad?”

“No! No, it’s…interesting,” she lowered her head to laugh at my proposal.

“So?” I placed my index finger under her shin and tilted her head to look at me. “Are you going to accept?”

“Hahaha… Yes. I accept,” she gave me the happiest smile I had seen from her.

And in that moment, I knew I was the happiest man alive.

Fin

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Master-List

[larissa-the-scribe]

Tell Me About This Time Loop, Again?

And so it begins... @inklings-challenge

Day 12

In Zo's mind, it never felt like the day was properly begun until Lyn woke up, looked around at the room they'd been staying in, frowned, and said—

Day 13

"Where are we? And why does it feel so... familiar?"

"Well you see," Zo replied, as he always did, peeking at the underside of the egg he was frying, "we're stuck in a time loop."

Day 14

"A time loop?" Lyn swung her feet over the side of the bed, seeming to realize for the first time that she was in one.

"Don't worry, it's clean." After confirming they were, indeed, in a time loop, one of the first things he had suggested was finding a comfortable place to set up camp. Somehow it had worked, and they had ended up there every time things reset. "And there doesn't seem to be anyone around, so I don't think we're stealing or trespassing." 

Lyn raised an eyebrow. 

Day 15

"Well, we might be, but no one minds. It's a ghost town. Everyone seems to have disappeared." And since it was a time loop, they never ran out of cooking gas. Or food supplies. That, at least, was convenient. 

"Disappeared?" Lyn stood up, adjusting her shirt from how it had gotten scrunched up in the night. Despite her attempts to look bright-eyed and alert, he could see the sleepiness that still hung from her eyes. 

Day 16

"Our best guess so far is that it's connected to the time loop." Zo flipped the eggs. If this all persisted, he could open up a fried-egg restaurant once they got out; he was getting an absurd amount of practice flipping eggs.

"That makes sense." Lyn padded over to the window, still barefoot, and pushed the shutters open. "Do we have any evidence, or is that just, well, a guess?" 

Her gaze swept the view, which he knew without looking was nothing more than the empty lines of blocky, one-story buildings and the too-smooth black-top of the streets. The neighborhood was pressed together as if sheltering from the plains beyond the town, with such a veneer of newness covering it all that each house might have been churned out of a factory yesterday. They hadn't been, though, considering the subtle signs of wear and tear inside the houses. 

"Eh, a bit of both. Something weird is clearly going on with the area, and we know time is affected, too, so it's a logical guess that the two are connected. Whether that means some psycho wiped the town out before setting up their experiment, or just that their timey-wimey dealybob messed up physics in general is still up for debate. Do you want toast?"

"Yes, please."

Day 17

"Good. We have to finish the bread before it goes stale." Zo left the 'in case we get to the next day' implicit.

"I'm surprised we still have butter. I thought it would have gone bad in your pack."

"It smells a bit odd, but so far we haven't been affected by it."

Day 18

"Okay, but how do you know we're in a time loop?" Lyn asked, setting the table. 

They were in a ground-level studio apartment, so the dining room, kitchen, and bed were all in the same space. No couch, which Zo took to mean that the owner was either poor or a cheapskate. Either way, it was disappointing. Still, the carpet wasn't bad. He'd slept on worse.

"Because you've asked me that so many times I've lost track of the number," Zo said, "and you seem thoughtful every time, like you're not as surprised as you thought you'd be." 

She nodded and set a fork down carefully, wearing the expression she always did just then, brows squeezing down over far-away eyes.

"In all fairness, though," Zo clarified, "I mostly lost track because I wasn't really counting, and then it seemed pointless to start. It's been over two weeks, though, I'm fairly certain."

Day 19

She smiled, and the tension in her brows eased a bit. "This all does feels familiar. Like, I don't remember the other days, but all of this feels like I should, somehow, know what happens next. But I don't."

"I do know," Zo replied, "and it's getting a bit tiresome."

"Fair."

Zo nodded, slotting toast into the toaster. "Very. Whoever owned this place pretty much only had eggs in their fridge. I'm not sure how many more days in a row I can eat those without losing my mind."

Lyn looked up sharply.

Day 20

"Relax," he said, waving his spatula, "they respawn every day, so I don't think it's even technically stealing. If it is, we can pay them back later. There's a fully-stocked but unmanned convenience store down the road, one which we have very nobly not taken anything from, every single day."

"Good," Lyn sighed. "After all, if we get out today, we wouldn't want to be rewarded by jail for petty theft." She tacked on a fierce look at the end of the sentence.

Zo shrugged, and let Lyn interpret the gesture as she would. "Eggs are almost done."

Day 21

"Good. I'm weirdly hungry. Also, thank you for breakfast."

"Don't mention it," Zo smiled. "It's nothing I haven't done many times before."

[popcornforone]

Saftey

A Din Djarin Fic

Day 23 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

So yesterday was quiet a lot wasn’t it. Marcus being Naughty in my fic, then the Gladiator drop & that photo shoot. We were fed. It had always been my intention after that story to do a small soft one, but this one is now even more needed.

Synopsis:- You try to reassure Grogu in moments of desperation.

Word Count:- 750

Warnings over & above:- trauma, life & death situation, survival, but it is mainly soft & sweet this.

Thanks for the read peoples. I am overwhelmed with love when you share these & like them it means the world. It’s giving me confidence to write the book. So thanks & thanks to @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for creating the prompt list.

You hold onto Grogu for your life & his. He’s petrified. This Tatooine sand storm is the worst for 300 years. You’re only supposed to be here for 3 days on a reconnaissance mission to monitor a few weird activities, while the Razor Crest is repaired. Din has gone to go & claim a bounty while you do some work for the locals. He asked you to look after Grogu, Grogu was hesitant at first clinging to his dad but then he saw you pack some biscuits & dried frogs & suddenly he was your new best friend, eager to come with you. You set up camp for what you thought was just going to be short over night.

But then the stand storm came in & youve Been out in the desert for 5 days now. You have enough food but supplies to last about 2 more days as you always over pack but after that you are in trouble. You’re not even sure you can venture outside afraid opening the tent door might cause sand to flood it & suffocate you both. The last thing you want Grogu to see is you struggling.

Grogu hasn’t slept at all in those 5 days & you cling to him, trying to rock him to sleep as the wind howls outside & the tent is battered by sand. A noise you will never forget. The smell inside the tent now fowl.

“It’s okay kid, I got you, Din is coming to find us I promise” he coes. At least one of you believed the lie you’d just made up. Grogu gargles & you keep him tight & whisper to him. “I’ll never let you go kid, it’s going to be okay”.

Has it been a week, day or hour? You are not sure. But the second you hear a swosh noise, you know what it is. An ominous black glow you can half see. Swipe swipe. You clutch to Grogu to keep him safe. You hiss after seeing light as the tent is sliced open. There in the blistering heat & light shines a man of silver (technically beskar) wielding his dark saber.

“Peli, I found them” you smile & feel Grogu wiggle for freedom but you keep him close, not sure if you are both dreaming this or not. As your eyes close & you feel yourself fading you hear Din say. “Don’t go now, stay awake, I thought I’d lost you both once already”.

Eventually you come around & slowly return to normal. You sit in Pelis work shop for a few hours after you’ve showered & cleaned up & Din & Peli have looked after Grogu. He didn’t want to let go of you for a good hour. He saw you as safety now. This upset Din a lot. Grogu was his ward, but the connection youd created soothing him to tell him you’d be safe, had lasting input. Din looks at you with affection, not that you can see it the helmet is staying on but you can also feel it, you protected his world. He has bathed Grogu & wrapped him in a fluffy towel. He walks across as you sip your hot drink & he sighs.

“Here” he says & outstretched his arms & you take the swaddled creature & rub him. He starts gargling & coeing, touching you as you hold him. “Thank you” Din says.

“You shouldn’t thank me Din, I should have seen the storm coming” you shake your head & rock grogu. “& I will always be eternally greatful & thankful that you came to save us”

“Couldn’t leave my clan behind could I” his gloved finger traces across your chin. You sigh. His touch even when he’s covered sends chills down your spine.

“Din”

“Shhh” he rests his helmet against your forehead. The cold beskar making you shiver but also is a comfort. “I want to make this all up to you.” He whispers through his modulator”

“How?”

“Well how about when we get back to the ship & Grogu is asleep, I remind you exactly what you mean to me”

“Oooh” you sound a little disappointed. As much as you will get kisses from Din it will

Be in complete darkness or you will be blindfolded as he makes love to you.

“Don’t look sad baby” he says & lifts the bottom of his helmet to kiss your cheek. “I think you’ve earnt a night with the lights on…”

[madsmilfelsen]

I think Rust is neat and all but what drew me in was his HANDS. Idk how to explain it, but something about the way he holds things and articulates makes me just. Stare at them. Like I just Know he has rough hands

alright babe, you want to talk about his hands, let’s talk about his hands via timeline

Obviously living in the bush of Alaska requires a lot of manual labor to survive, skin rubbing raw inside leather gloves, blisters from splitting wood, scars from his knife slipping on salmon (v real, I used to filet 500 salmon a summer and baby…. yew, my left hand has gotten nicked more than once— Travis and Rust had a fish camp on the Copper River, probably across the bridge from Chitna and a touch north, and lived way up river between Slana and Nabesna bc I’m making all this up right now and I said so) etc etc so his hands well worn before he got out, moved back to Texas and meets Claire snared by his weirdo allure and bizarre way of handling things— Sophia comes along and I bet he was washing his hands like a maniac, dry as fuck, probably worried his rough hands might make her fussy so held her with her little swaddling blankets at first (compensated with A LOT of skin to skin time but that’s a different ask), carefully petting her hair with just the tips of his fingers, down the bridge of her nose to make her go to sleep. Sophia loved his hands (like mother like daughter fr) could be occupied when he took her fishing by just letting her sit in his lap to play with his fingers, try on his wedding ring, ask why his nails are shorter than mommy’s or why they aren’t soft like mommy’s, map his calluses, trace the lines of his palms until he set a hook and watched him reel in dinner.

(Addition) hol up, hear me out— Sophia rooting around his bare chest and pacified with the curl of his knuckle, Sophia teething and gnawing on his fingers, Sophia learning to walk with her soft pudgy hands in his, Sophia squealing and giggling as he tickles her round lil tummy, Sophia’s only sitting still to get her hair brushed but only for daddy— Rust’s hands becoming the most abused part of his body after she’s gone

Crash era— this man does not give a shit about his hands, the most treatment they get is when he taped them together after breaking a finger, had a punching bag for obvious reasons and beat the shit out of it no gloves no tape constantly bruised. Not a stranger to working with mechanics (in Alaska, Travis would make sure he could keep his equipment running— boat engines, four wheeler oil changes, changing snow mobile tracks etc) and probably took his bike apart and put it back together just to make sure he could be Authentic, different calluses with new tools, divots in his skin lost to the unforgiving scraping bite of metal, hissing when he gets transmission fluid in his split knuckles

1995– habitual hand washing returns, dry as hell, his wrists probably crack and bleed in the winter (very very very rarely is annoyed enough to actual do something about it, probably had to bleed on one of his files— he’d use Johnson and Johnson baby lotion becuase that’s he only shit he knew, definitely drunk cried about it at least once, before sucking it up and swtiching to Vaseline), pull up bars give calluses at the base of the fingers/tops of the palms, just does calisthenics because who the fuck wants to buy equipment. Does all the upkeep on his truck (and thinking about it, this would be the first time he’d be like Alone alone in a long while, no handlers, no Iron Crusaders, no backstory upkeep, no dad, no wife, probably takes truck parts inside and cleans them on his kitchen counter because no one is there to say what the fuck are you doing— “we don’t mind being alone” okay Okay sure honey) Makes it worse by the talcum powder in his rubber gloves or licking his fingers to go through case files or staying too long in the dry archives where he can’t smoke so probably tapping his mouth, rubbing circles on his knuckles with his thumb or running it along his nails— don’t know what flavor of adhd that man has a strangle hold on but he can’t sit entirely still, fingers moving with the bits of his mind that aren’t occupied to keep himself from distraction, pretending he didn’t lose his patience with his fatherhood.

2002– Laurie :) home girl said that’s enough! Probably got recommendations from surgeons and plys him tins of hand salve, he doesn’t like the greasy feeling, but his girl is askin’ he won’t say no babey!

2012– full circle, back to them Alaskan fishing boat hands, type of hands that snag fabric (my husband isn’t a mechanic but does work with his hands and I can’t wear silk around him) and hair gets caught on, the man does not own a brush, finger combs his hair once a week and puts that shit in a hair tie, done with it.

[linka-from-captain-planet]

wait by the light of the moon #1: Rana & Vesta - Selfish

this Femslash February, I got myself all in my feelings about the usual (women) and began working on a collection of loosely-connected short fics exploring life as queer women in Tevinter, emphasizing friendship, community, and culture. Being me, of course a fair amount of focus is on supporting and obscure characters, because all women are main characters to ME.

To that point, first up is a lesbro origin story, featuring Rana Savas and (future) Warden Vesta

Rating: T || Words: 1274 References to homophobia, misogyny, comp het, and class issues.

On the outskirts of the city, just inside the walls, the Templar training camp is a grey, cramped, shoddy affair. Shockingly, the Magisterium doesn’t allocate it much money in the annual budget.

To the caravan of recruits coming in, though, it might as well be an oasis in the Western Front. Three meals a day, a roof over their heads, money in the pocket on the last day of every month. People with other options tend not to choose this one, but as far as Tevinter goes, there’s always at least one option that’s always worse.

The mid-morning sun is hot overhead, steaming the formation of junior knights in full plate. Tradition has them, two and three years into service, greet the new recruits. The miserable, rundown first-year grunts would probably scare too many of them off. 

At the front of formation, Knight-Templar Vesta Aquila watches two score bodies pour off a cramped wagon as one big mass, fanning themselves with their shirts and gasping the fresh air with relief. Looks like the usual assortment: mostly men, mostly hungry-eyed and raw-boned, some of them practically still with indents from chains on their ankles and wrists.

Some of them chatter and mill about excitedly; others stick with the pack, nervous and desperate not to be singled out. Before long, a sergeant comes blustering out of the office and barks at them to shut up, stand straight, and listen for their name to be called for intake, inspection, and kitting.

The crowd settles and spreads out a bit, and Vesta can’t help but notice one of the few female recruits sticking out like a sore thumb.

She looks like she got lost on the way to the Our Young Lady of Victory Pageant. A classic Tevene beauty: tall, slender, with shiny dark hair plaited all the way down to her butt, looking as out-of-place as Andraste herself would, standing stiffly in the perpetually ankle-deep mud of the Ferryman Training Temple courtyard. Her green eyes dart around nervously, but her pretty face is set determinedly neutral. 

Couldn’t be a zealot, Vesta decides idly, or the daughter of such; the chantry would be the clear choice, there. This isn’t the South. Couldn’t be a Laetain’s ungifted disappointment, dumped into service to recoup some of the family’s lost esteem with medals and titles without any risk of being sent to fight the Qunari; they’re only a small bribe away from skipping right to officer school. Couldn’t come from much at all, or else she’d be able to afford schooling or vocational training. Couldn't be coming in off the streets or the market, what with her clean dress and impeccable grooming. Too prim to be a troublemaker who picked this place over jail. Too uncertain to be the latest in a long line of Templars. Too young and far too beautiful not to have marriage, at least, to fall back on.

The sergeant barks, “Rana Savas,” and the girl startles, but squares her shoulders and follows her assigned admin drone inside.

She takes about three steps before Vesta raises an eyebrow and thinks, ah. 

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

Hours later, just before lights-out, Vesta makes her assigned rounds shooing recruits to their bunks. She sticks her head into the women’s washroom, and there she finds the girl—Savas, she remembers—standing in front of the mirror, running her hands over and over through what remains of her hair.

The men get their heads shaved promptly after signing the papers, and the women, their hair chopped off messily above the shoulders. Hygiene, they say; hazing, they don’t. Savas’ hair wound up even shorter than most, hacked up almost to her ears. The barber must have been feeling greedy; hair as long and thick as hers fetches good coin. That pretty braid will make a magister’s wife a real nice wig, but what she’s left with looks like something from a joke shop, bone-dry and sticking up all over. The harsh anti-nit shampoo they make the recruits wash with in medical inspection might as well be enchanted to turn hair to straw.

Vesta came in with her hair already cropped short. She had someone to warn her. 

Rapping softly on the wall to announce herself, Vesta calls, “Alright there, Savas?” 

Despite being sneaked up on, Savas doesn’t flinch at her own name this time. Her eyes remain fixed on herself in the mirror, her expression wooden, and she keeps stroking her hair. Hoping to get some oil from her skin into it, Vesta figures. 

Mechanically, Savas replies, “I’m well, thank you, Knight-Templar Aquila.” 

“Good memory,” Vesta says, feeling awkward. It’s not really the point, but she adds, “Just ‘Aquila.’ I’m not an officer. All us underlings just call each other by name.” Savas seems like a girl who appreciates a good rule to follow. Maybe it’ll make her feel a little less helpless. 

Savas nods, staring at the mirror two feet from her face like it’s as far away as the Archon’s Palace hovering up in the sky. 

Sighing, Vesta leans out the door to listen for anyone coming. The last thing they need is the sergeant busting in on his own rounds.

Coming to Savas’ side, she grabs the younger woman—barely old enough to qualify as a ‘woman’, now that Vesta sees her up close—and pries her arms down to her sides, forcing her hands out of her hair, and briskly turns her away from the mirror so they meet eyes directly. 

“C’mon, Savas. Snap out of it. Come tomorrow’s drills, you’ll be glad to have all that weight off your neck.”

It wasn’t meant to be patronizing, but something about it strikes a nerve and Savas’ eyes focus into a glare. So, it worked, anyway. 

Wrenching away, jaw set, Savas gestures frustratedly at the mirror. “Glad, they made me look like a man,” she mutters ruefully, quiet enough that Vesta isn’t sure if she was meant to hear it or not.

Ah, Vesta thinks. It really doesn’t; it makes her look like a pretty girl with an ugly haircut. If she’s concerned about coming off mannish—about tipping off people who aren’t like them—, she should probably worry about adjusting that walk of hers first.

Needless to say, Vesta keeps that analysis to herself. She has a feeling it’ll be some time before Savas would be receptive to such feedback. 

It hasn’t been too long since Vesta was in her shoes. She gets it. 

But it’s not the kind of thing they could talk about in the open. There are no laws, no rules, no regulations against it; it’s just not what’s done. You don’t grow up in Minrathous without learning damn well that many Soporoti see themselves not as Soporoti, but as temporarily-embarrassed Altus; so even though there’s really no reason for peasants like them to mimic the highbloods’ delicate sensibilities regarding bloodlines, inheritance, proper marriage and the proper breeding of proper mage-children… it’s just the way things are done. Even though it smothers them all. 

The chantry bell tolls, reminding Vesta that they need to hustle out of here if they don’t want extra laps tomorrow. 

But, it’s easier when you have someone to help keep your nose above water.

Like Knight-Templar Bosc did for her two years ago, Vesta steps up to the mirror and knocks the side of her boot against Savas’. She receives an incredulous look in return. 

Smirking and leaning in conspiratorially, Vesta says, “You’re not the only one with a bad haircut here, Savas. Don’t be selfish.” 

At ‘selfish’, Savas’ eyes widen and her ears flush. 

Good—that’s one less thing Vesta will need to teach her before camp ends.

[frickingnerd]

leo surprising you for your birthday

pairing: leo valdez x gn!reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, crying!reader, reader's friends/siblings forget their birthday, friends to lovers, wholesome fluff

a/n: i had planned to post it on my birthday but now y'all get it a bit earlier since– i really didn't post much percy jackson content recently 👀

you had always despised your birthdays

you never had one you could look back to and think about fondly

every time you thought about your birthday, you didn't think about the cake or the present

you just thought about your friends and siblings enjoying themselves together, while you sat at the side and watched them have fun, year after year after year

you wished you could just forget about them. perhaps everyone would just forget about it if you didn't remind them and you would be able to at least have a nice day by yourself

the day drew near and it really seemed like everyone had just forgotten about it

neither your siblings, nor your friends mentioned anything

when the day finally came, nobody came to congratulate you. there was no cake, no presents. they had forgotten about it

and despite you wishing that they would, it absolutely hurt! 

but at least you were free to do as you pleased that day and got the chance to do something nice for yourself

you decided to visit the beach. there shouldn't be anyone there, especially not during spring time

as you made your way through the forest of camp halfblood, you realized that you had forgotten the way to the beach

it had been quite a while since you last went there and it was hard to distinguish the different trees from one another and navigate your way there

you ended up walking through the forest for almost half an hour, until you ended up in front of bunker 9

it wasn't where you intended to go, but you were starting to get tired from all the walking around and decided to take a break inside

there was nobody there when you entered, but you couldn't help but immediately notice the things that stood on the table

a bouquet of flowers, a chocolate cake and a necklace made out of scrap

you quickly realized that you probably weren't supposed to see this or even be here right now, but when you tried to leave the bunker, you bumped into leo

"y/n!" leo seemed surprised to see you. "i– what are you doing here?" 

"oh, i– i was about to leave again! i didn't know you had set things up for a date down here…" you awkwardly rubbed your neck and tried to slip past leo, but he grabbed your wrist as you tried to leave

"no..! this isn't… it's not really for a date, you know…" he stared down at you and you could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes

"it's not..?" your eyes never left his as you spoke

"it's for you..!" he smiled softly and took a step inside the bunker. "your birthday, remember?" 

of course you did. how could you forget your own birthday. but you didn't think anyone else would remember it…

"i sneaked into the kitchen last night to bake the cake. the necklace i made a week ago out of some scrap my cabin had laying around and the flowers i grabbed earlier today" leo told you as he stepped towards the table

"the only thing that was missing, was…" he turned around, ready to say you, but instead he stopped and his smile slipped from his lips

"y/n, why are you crying…?" 

he looked so worried as he approached you, while you quickly tried to wipe away the tears, but more just kept on coming

leo gently cupped your face, wiping away your tears, as he leaned his forehead against yours

"don't cry… not today, okay? i– i'll make you a prettier necklace, okay? and you'll get more flowers, just…"

you sobbed quietly, quickly shaking your head

"it's perfect… i– i love it, alright..?" you smiled through the tears

"it's the best birthday gift i could've asked for…" you were still struggling to hold back your tears as you spoke, your voice cracking

"b-but… i couldn't do more for you. you deserve better than–" 

you weren't going to let leo finish that sentence

you closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together and holding him as close as you could

his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and he tasted like chocolate

you had to break the kiss after a few seconds, to gasp for air and you immediately started to miss his lips on yours

"i…" leo quietly gasped and you could feel the heat rushing into his cheeks

"you've done more than enough for me, leo…" your forehead leaned against his again, your eyes closed "you've made me happier today than i could've imagined" 

"and you didn't even try the cake yet..!" leo joked quietly, causing you to laugh and pull away from him, to wipe the final tears out of your eyes

"i didn't!" you smiled. "though, maybe we can change that now..?"

[thegigilwriter]

23 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary. 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary. Will Bradley finally unravel the true source of Lucy's grief?

Keywords/Warnings: ANGST, missing family members, eventual fluff

23 | Always You 🌑

June 26, 2010

It was the summer before their first day of school in America. At the campgrounds of Trillium Lake in Oregon, Lucy and Ford are at their first summer camp. After a morning filled with fishing, swimming, rock climbing, and treks through the nearby wilderness, it was finally lunch time.

“Iʼll see ya later, Brenda!ˮ Lucy waved as she wandered from her group table and set off to look for Ford. She headed over to the boyʼs divide and gazed out into the crowd of long-limbed 12 to 15-year-olds with tousled locks and mud splatter on their faces. Lucy walked towards Fordʼs supposed group and neared bespectacled Gareth drinking a carton of milk.

“Hey Gar, have you seen my brother?ˮ She smiled. A blush littered across his pale and freckled cheeks as he shyly looked away.

“N-nope,ˮ he replied. “He was just here a little while ago, but I got called away to get my inhaler. He may be in the bathroom though. Uh... that way...ˮ

“Thanks!ˮ

Lucy was about to round the corner to the stalls, when she heard some voices nearby. They sounded hostile, so she quickly hid behind the brick wall as she pressed her ear discreetly towards the direction of the altercation.

“Leave me alone!ˮ

Yani!

Lucy heard the cacophony of commotion, the rustle of clothes and the sound of bodies being shoved against the solid ground.

“Or what?!ˮ

There was a thunder in Lucyʼs ears and without missing a beat, Lucy collected a pebble within her reach and expertly threw it at the back of the perpetratorʼs head. He was tall, at least two heads over Lucy. His width matched his height— towering over her like a stone wall. His hair was a brilliant bright red but his eyes were dark with anger. Ford was on the ground, caging his face with his arms. Her eyes flickered towards his right ankle, it looked angry and swollen. Lucy tread on, emerging from the shadow of the wall she hid behind and raising her chin.

“Iʼm what,ˮ Lucy replied. The bully laughed, leaving Ford in the dust and grabbing the front of her shirt.

“Lucy...ˮ Ford weakly called out.

“Look at you so scared and pathetic,ˮ he mocked. “What are you gonna do now, lilʼ girl?ˮ

The brute watched in amusement as Lucyʼs nose flared and her eyes glisten with tears. Her cheeks were red with anger and her lips were pressed into a tight line. And then, with all her might, she struck the top of her foot against the inside of his thigh. He let go instantly, barreling towards the dirt in pain as he whimpered. Lucy quickly got to her feet and carried Ford on her back.

“I got you,ˮ she said to him with a comforting smile, even as he looked away with a pout. Lucy chuckled because Ford was a prideful creature — and even though Lucy was younger by only a matter of minutes, he always saw himself as the big brother she should look up to. It didnʼt matter to Lucy though, he was always going to be her big brother — one that she would be protecting many times from this moment on.

October 14, 2023

Lucy awoke with a gasp. Everything felt drenched in her own sweat — the sheets beneath her, the scalp on her head, the skin between her thighs. She dreamt of Ford again — an old memory of them together. Lucy wasnʼt even sure that Ford was really dead and he was already haunting her like a ghost. She drew the blankets that she previously discarded in her sleep to her knees, suddenly feeling chilly. She stared at the empty space beside her and another memory filled her mind— one of Bradley with his warm embrace, his handsome eyes, and his sweet kisses. If he was here he would already be awake right beside her, soothing Lucy against his chest and accompanying her lonesome lips. Bitter tears pricked at her eyes.

“Iʼm done putting up with you.ˮ

She was done too. She was sick of herself already. Every waking day was reminder of her bleak existence — cooking, caring for her plants and little pets, watching Downtown Abbey, diving, learning, working — all these things no longer brought her joy. She returned to work some days ago, but she had to be kept off whale interactions on the account that she nearly suffered from hypoxia because she was not paying attention to her oxygen gauge. She must have looked so downright miserable that Diego did not throw even a single comment in her direction. Lucy felt bad for how she snapped at Sam and Chen when they asked her how she was. She felt angry for how Dr. Agnes looks at her— so full of pity. The sky outside was still dark, and before she could tuck herself into her sleep once more, her phone rang.

Could it be...

Bradley?

He had stopped calling her two days ago, and Lucy wondered if he was really finally done with her as he had said. Hope gripped her heart as she grabbed her phone swiftly, not bothering to look at the caller ID as she picked it up.

“‘Bout damn time.ˮ

“Celeste...ˮ

“Thought I was Bradley, didnʼt you?ˮ

“Well... I-I...ˮ

“Itʼs okay Lucy,ˮ she sighed on the other line. “I-I was just trying to light up the mood. I didnʼt mean to start anything.ˮ

“You didnʼt, youʼre fine...ˮ

“Are you and Bradley fine, too?ˮ

A beat.

“I just called to see how you are Lucy. Iʼm glad that you picked up.ˮ

If only it had been me.

Lucy couldnʼt speak, her heart so thickly ladened with emotion. If she uttered anything, she feared that they would spill out and she would have a mess on her hands that would take her forever to clean up.

“You donʼt have to speak, just listen. Whether or not Ford is alive, you have to keep living Lucy — not only for Ford, but for yourself.ˮ

A tear trickled down her cheek, iridescent against the bright screen of her phone.

“I know itʼs hard. I know how close you were, and I know that you didnʼt end on good terms on the day he left. But Lucy... you canʼt keep on going like this. Whatever you may think, you are not a bad person and this not your fault. Itʼs... this something out from our control...ˮ

Maybe not, Lucy thought. If I had made the right choice...

“You know... if it werenʼt for Bradley, I would have come over there myself and see how you were doing.ˮ

“B-Bradley?ˮ

“He contacted me and we talked. He knows about what happened to Ford,ˮ she told her bluntly. “I know that you donʼt want him knowing— and I take full responsibility for disclosing something private and important to you... but the man clearly cares about you, Lucy.ˮ

Lucy drew a shaky inhale.

“He wonʼt want to be with me,ˮ she whispered. “Not after all the things Iʼve said. Heʼs too good to me Celeste... I canʼt keep treating him like this.ˮ

“Then put an end to his misery and let him in for godʼs sake!ˮ Celeste told her impatiently. “You have something special here, Lucy. Donʼt let your past dictate the course of your life. Something this heavy shouldnʼt have to be carried with only your shoulders.ˮ

“What if he canʼt carry it?ˮ

“What if you let him try?ˮ

A beat.

“I love you, ‘lil sis. Call me.ˮ

Celeste ended the call, leaving Lucy to lie with her thoughts until dawn... until her fingers suddenly had the strange urge to pick up her phone, and before she knew it she was calling the one person she should have all this time. Lucy waited with bated breath as each ring commenced. Tears pricked the side of her eyes with every second that passed that she didnʼt hear his voice. She finally resigned, finger hovering over the ‘End Callʼ sign.

“Angel?ˮ A voice called out to her.

“Bradley,ˮ she breathed out.

“Are you okay?ˮ She could hear the rasp in his voice.

“I-I woke you up,ˮ she stuttered. “I can c-call you back.ˮ

“No!ˮ He said to her. “N-Nowʼs good. How are you?ˮ

A beat.

“Can you... can you come over?ˮ

Another beat.

“I-Itʼs okay y-you donʼt have to.ˮ

Silence... then the chatter of movement.

“No Angel, no,ˮ Lucy could hear his smile on the other side. “I... I was just looking for my keys.ˮ

Lucy picked at the tufts of her sweater— a quilt over her legs as she sat on her purple couch. She stared at her living room table with a blank gaze — particularly the newspaper that laid face down against it. The moon, rotund and bright this very night spilled unto the carpet, casting strange shadows against her plants on the window sill. The silence of waiting was deafening and Lucy was just about to reach for the remote control when she heard the faint jiggle of the doorknob. She turned towards the entryway, and there was Bradley, his broad shoulders filling the threshold. Despite the dark circles beneath his eyes and the crease and his brow— he looked ever so desirable with his mess of honey curls, his stache, his sleepy little smile, and the glint in his eye as he held her in his sights.

“Angel,ˮ he breathed.

“Bradley,ˮ she whispered, looking away shyly as he entered her apartment quietly and padded towards her on the couch. He kneeled in front of her, his fingers gripping the near edge of the quilt as he looked up at her adoringly. How could he? Lucy thought. It was still unfathomable that Bradley Bradshaw was in her apartment in one call, let alone someone to call hers.

“Baby?ˮ He said softly. She bit her lip, gesturing towards the table to which Bradley turned to to retrieve a newspaper. He met her stare, perplexed.

“I know about Ford, Angel.ˮ He told her. “You donʼt have to explain anything. I came here to apolo—“

“W-When mom got sick,ˮ she breathed out. “Ford and I made a promise to e-each other that we b-both couldnʼt leave her alone at the same time...ˮ

Bradley listened intently, but his eyes glanced towards her empty palm longingly.

“Then the Avery murder happened,ˮ she whispered. “And he couldnʼt come home very often. I-I had to stay by momʼs side constantly— traveling to and from Portland every week. I-I was s-scared...ˮ

“Before mom got sick I applied for a position as an associate on the ‘Explorerʼ...ˮ she sighed. “Itʼs a famous ship, known to carry some of the best cetologists on an expedition taken only every five years to follow a species of a rare whale migration. Itʼs very competitive and never I thought I could ever get in. Dr. Agnes encouraged Chen, Sam, and I to apply. And I did...ˮ

“The day Ford left for New York, was the day I r-received the letter of acceptance,ˮ Lucy swallowed deeply, her eyes moving everywhere but towards Bradleyʼs, he held her clenched hand in his and smoothed the ridges of her knuckles with the pad of her thumb. “I wanted to go on the Explorer just as badly that Ford wanted to go on his mission. I w-was f-furious. It w-was just s-so unfair about how he always got what he wanted! I was s-scared of him leaving me alone with m-mom because heʼs the o-only p-person that she l-likes, even more than me—!ˮ

“Angel—“

“And Iʼm a horrible person because I told h-him n-never to c-come back!ˮ Her chest was heaving violently now, and Bradley shifted himself to her side, putting an arm around her.

“Oh Baby,ˮ he whispered. “That doesnʼt make you a horrible person—“

“Read the paper, Bradley, please!ˮ

And so he did. He picked up the front page to his periphery and above the 12 photographed faces and one that depicted a grand vessel afloat on sea, was a bold headline.

‘EXPLORERʼ GONE MISSING

June 26, 2021

He turned to her.

“Donʼt you see?ˮ She told him as she shook her head. “I-It should have b-been... me. If I had begged Celeste to take his place. If I had left before he did. I wouldʼve been gone... and he wouldʼve been here and mpm wouldʼve been far better off with him. It shouldʼve been me, Bradley...ˮ

He cradled her head into his grasp and let her cry into his chest. His heart clenched at the sound of her sobs, and even more at what she had just confessed. How could she think that? He thought. How could someone so wonderful and beautiful think of herself like that? After his conversation with Celeste a few days ago, Bradley felt certain of the extent of her hurt... and now he felt as if he has misstepped, underestimated the depth of a pothole as he navigated the dark face of the moon. Though he empathized with her sorrow, a part of Bradley felt endeared by the guilt she expressed. His Angel is a good person, who loves very deeply, and has endured a great ordeal. However can he fix her? However can he love her in way that he could never hurt her?

Then it occurred to him.

“All this time we were fighting,ˮ Bradley held her closer, sighing into her ear. “I was thinking of how I can just make everything that made you upset go away. I was thinking of a way to fix you. But I canʼt just do that, canʼt I?ˮ

She looked up at him. Those glistening, sweet, brown eyes staring right into him.

“Something like this is going to hurt for a long time,ˮ he told her. “I know that now. But no matter what you think of yourself. No matter what happens... Iʼm going to be here Lucy. I meant it when I said that Iʼm in love with you...ˮ

Lucy hiccuped as he cupped her wet cheek.

“I was afraid...ˮ she rasped. “That you really were done with me... you looked just so... t-triggered...ˮ

Bradley paused, sighing.

“The p-people I loved,ˮ He faltered. “Pushed me away to protect me. My Mom didnʼt really tell me that my Dad was gone until I was a little older — even when I would sit on the front porch almost everyday waiting for him to come home. Mav pulled my papers at the Naval Academy because he was afraid that I would end up like my dad... When we fought that day, I was hurt because I thought I was losing you and I didn’t know what I did wrong...ˮ

“You did nothing wrong,ˮ she whispered... her gaze holding his intently. “And you can never lose me, Bradley.”

“Iʼm sorry, Angel.ˮ

“Iʼm sorry, my love.ˮ

Bradley smiled, pulling her cheek cautiously towards him... and with her consenting nod, placed his lips on hers. Who knew, that such a bitter absence of her presence could result in something so sweet. All those nights of longing, empty sheets, and heavy hearts have finally concluded. As Bradley carried Lucy into his arms and set towards her bedroom for a true nightʼs sleep.

It wasn’t easy writing a chapter this heavy. I have to admit that my heart broke just a little tearing these lovebirds apart, but I’m glad they’re back and stronger than ever. Thanks for reading, and I hope you stick around for the next one!

Taglist: @itsarabellebabes @harrysgothicbitch

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 67 - Oh Eleanor

You get back to camp. That goblin man would like a word.

On AO3.

There’s a stream up here in the mountains. It’s small and fast, the water crisp. Nowhere near deep enough to wade into, but it’s plenty good for everybody to refill their canteens and splash the blood off themselves.

Y’all boot-scooted the fuck outta cultville the second Karlach got to the last cultist. None of y’all lingered for any kind of looting or anything, not with that diminished god rolling around on the ground and wailing.

That fuck powder still burns your sinuses.

You didn’t make eye contact with nobody as y’all found a place about an hour later. It’s another, small clearing on a gentler slope of mountain. The trees thickened just a bit, enough to where y’all are fairly sheltered from view once you get all safe and tucked away. Gale sets up making some kinda griddle cake—ain’t none of you much in the mood for meat tonight, except Lae’zel, and they all have the courtesy to leave you be as you head off a little ways into them woods.

They probably know what you’re doing. You try hard not to think about that as you fumble with the buttons of your trousers enough to shove a hand down your pants.

It’s been a while. You do this—did this—more often at home. Helps with cramps and insomnia and good old boredom. But this first touch here draws a sigh outta you.

You find a slightly grassy patch and habitually check for snakes. You ain’t actually seen once since you crawled off that butthole ship. Coast is clear and you’re laying yourself right on down.

It ain’t gonna take long. Between the time gap and that goddamn powder (those bitches drugged you, fucking assholes) you’re already primed up. You barely have to start thinking about anything and your breath speeds up before you automatically start to hold it.

You don’t make noise if you can, at all, help it; you’ve lost orgasms when you surprised yourself with noise, because for all the sex positivity work you read and whatever, the shame shame shame still whispers that you can’t be heard, this has to be a disgusting secret.

Back to the imagery. You ain’t really attracted to like, real people until you know them. Until you feel something for them. If you were to walk up to somebody and try the stuff you’re thinking about, that warm pleasure would burn right off. But the pictures, the movements, the imaginary feelings?

Then you’re thinking of tight pants and a stupidly high waist and—no, no, what is that doing here?

Back to something else. A woman on all fours, fingers clawing into sheets, mouth open and wide hands wrapped around her hips—

You know who else has wide hands?

“Fuck off,” you hiss.

Two women. One mouthing at a neck. Moving down, down to the breast, to the nipple. Lips closing and suckling—

The climax rushes through you. Back arches and hips jerk up as the back of your head digs into the grass. Your jaw clenches and you can’t help the soft, strangled sounds that make it past the blockade in your throat. You slap one hand over your mouth, over your nose, too, for good measure as you buck over and over, riding it out. Thinking of that new toy you got and how you only ever got to use it the once and how bullshit that is because it was expensive and it felt so good having something like that inside.

Then you fall back, gulping for air, one hand in your pants and the other falling to the forest floor.

…you could go again.

“Oh ~Eleanor~!”

Oh fuck.

You tug your hand outta your pants and climb to your feet, fumbling with the damn buttons again. Astarion sounds entirely too pleased with himself out there.

“You stay over there!” you holler.

No water to wash; that’s back at camp. You look around, imagine the bastard slinking closer, and eye the dirt. Claw your fingers through it and rub your hands together like it’s soap (gross). Wipe what you can off on your blood-spattered trouser legs. You’re gonna have to wash you and your clothes tonight.

“Are you decent, darling?” At least his voice don’t sound any closer. Bitch ass goblin man.

Then you remember him pointing down, below the indoor balcony at the tollhouse. The fourth heartbeat. Wyll though vampires could hear the stars at night and did this fucking man hear you.

Your entire front goes hot. The sun’s almost down, and you know that fucker can see in the dark.

Shit goddamn fuck!

You take a deep breath. Take another.

You ain’t gonna be shamed. You refuse to be shamed. You just got propositioned and damn near magically fucking roofied for a starter-pack sex god, and none of them got any right to judge you for coming out here. Them cult fuckers seemed surprised you didn’t tear your clothes off right there on the spot.

“You better not be lurking,” you say as you start towards camp. You ain’t stealthy in the underbrush. He can track you and meet up if that’s what he’s after.

And then he’s right here, in his camp clothes with that—this bitch has unlaced his fucking shirt to show off more of his chest. The absolute goddamn audacity.

You meet his gaze, head held high, and fucking dare him to say something.

“Enjoying the evening, I take it?” he says.

Fucker.

But you ain’t backing down. “Ye-awp. You?”

He waves a hand all theatrical. “Oh, I try to find amusement here and there.”

“Uh huh,” you say in the single most unconvinced auntie tone. You brush past him towards the clearing where everybody’s set up. “Gale almost done with dinner?”

Then he’s next to you, soundlessly. You shove down the urge to jump, and nearly succeed. The man is a menace.

“So am I your amusement for the night?” you say.

He keeps pace with you a few steps. Close enough you could reach out and touch him, but just shy of breaching your personal space.

“More of a curiosity, I’ll admit,” he says.

And here it comes. The questions, the side-eye, the stupid bullshit and the whispers. The worst possible person to find out anything about you, and now you get to deal with it. Yippee.

You stop. Turn to him, hands on your hips. “It ain’t that complicated, but I’ll give you three minutes to ask whatever bullshit you got cooking up in that skull of yours, and then we don’t ever talk about this again, you hear? And if you make this weird it ends here and now. Agreed?”

The taken-aback stares lasts only long enough for him to blink. Then it’s replaced with pity. “You poor, sheltered thing. All this time and you’ve never taken a lover? Ever?”

It’s just sex—or lack thereof. It’s other people who make this weird.

“Never needed to. Next question.”

“So, a virgin experienced in self-pleasure, then. That’s something, at least. Just how sheltered are you, darling?”

Oh, all the things you got in that junk drawer of your brain. You probably ain’t gonna scandalize Mr. “Pile of lovers in the city” and you don’t want to get too personal. “I seen a fair bit of it, but not in person. More like reading a book, only it’s all pictures and they move and make sound. Real stupid sounds. Don’t go assuming I’m some kinda little church girl that never seen fucking.”

“So you like to watch.”

…days ago y’all wasn’t on speaking terms, and now this? Good god, it’s scary how easy it is to fall into shenanigans with this man. Cause…you want to. The shenanigans, not the fucking. It’s fun. And it’s such a goddamn relief to have somebody to be fun with. He’s damn near seen you at your worst by this point, and yet here he is. It’s hard not to fall into banter with somebody who saw all that and still comes at you with that sorta tease.

Is this flirting?

Wait. Is he flirting? Are you flirting? Goddamnit, nobody teaches this shit!

“I been on a couple of dates before,” you say. “Nothing serious, though.”

He watches you. Seems to be waiting.

“And?” he says.

“And what?”

“This ‘date.’ I assume from the context—if that potion is translating correctly—you’re referring to courtship?”

You start to answer. Then squint at him. “Holy fuck you’re old. You’re just a walking goddamn antique, ain’t you? Who says courting?”

Two hundred years and an elf. Astarion is a goddamn grandpa.

And now the whole thing is sliding away from where he’s been directing it, judging by the flash-pan scowl he smothers. That’s probably why he pivots as aggressively as he does. “Our little almost-tryst in the woods. Have any of your courtiers ever kissed you?”

His lips were cool and soft. His tongue touching yours gives you goosebumps just remembering it.

And that’s a hesitation too long. His eyebrows scrunch together in pitying amusement. The man actually hides a snort behind his hand. “Oh darling, no. You’re positively untouched!”

It’s a real pity your shoes are laced up boots. Can’t slip that off fast enough to throw at him without him dodging.

“Just so you know, I was copying you, you jackass. If it was that bad, it’s your fault.”

“It was a rather clumsy attempt.”

Okay. Alright. His time is up.  You don’t gotta stand here and take shit from this…this hobgoblin.

“Don’t be so sour,” he says. “It wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t expecting anything masterful, anyway. I could tell you were inexperienced. I just didn’t imagine you were quite that inexperienced.”

And then he blinks at you, and some emotion you can’t decipher flashes in his eyes.

“You could have told me, you know,” he says.

You should have. Would’a avoided a whole lotta stupid mess if you’d just taken the chance to be truthful.

“Yeah,” you say. Look to the first flickers of fire light in the clearing just beyond the trees. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He’s dropped the gremlin mask. The flirty, the smarm. Well, not all the smarm; man’s physically composed of at least twenty percent smarm on a molecular level. But there’s that strange lack of expression on him again. Not the deliberate cover—everything bolted and battened down like you yourself do as easy as breathing—but just that…inquisitiveness.

You think he might be genuinely asking.

And god help you, this would be a good time to come all the way clean. But you swore you’d never confess your sins for nobody ever again, and you ain’t about to start that now. That kind of vulnerability ain’t something you can live with.

“People get weird about it.” It ain’t a lie. And you was slightly worried he’d be one of them. “I…I panicked.”

Also true. You’re doing it right now.

His head cocks to the side, his eyes almost…soft? “I would have understood, darling. Slowed things down.”

“Yeah, well.” That’s shame clawing at the inside of your chest, ain’t it? Hateful bitch. She got in you good as a kid on the farmstead. Chewed a hole right through your ribs and made a nasty little nest in there. “What’s done is done. So why’re you actually out here?”

Astarion slips his mask back on. Rolls his eyes and gestures all dramatic. “We’re nearing a githyanki creche after a run-in with a cult that specifically wanted you. Forgive me for keeping your safety in mind.”

He’s out here sniffing around, is what he’s doing.

Still.

Still.

All the shit going on and all the shit y’all’re no doubt walking into. This feels better than keeping him at a distance. Joking and…and fucked up camaraderie eases something inside you and you don’t got many outlets for that out here.

He’s a bastard but…but…goddamnit. He’s a likeable bastard when he wants to be. So long as he don’t try to stop you from helping literal torture victims again.

So you sigh, and give him a silly bow. “Thank you.”

And god bless his little heart, he visibly perks up. Just a pinch. Just enough you don’t think he himself notices.

He swoops down into a dumbass bow of his own. “My pleasure, darling. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I rather desperately need to find a bite of my own.”

What a fucking dork. You give him a wave and head towards the clearing and the scent of woodsmoke.

“And,” Astarion says. “If you ever do want to reconsider your pleasure, you need only ask.”

There he is. He can’t let that go. Physically could not fucking restrain himself and let you walk off without tossing that one out there. Man must’a been close to blowing a blood vessel keeping that in as long as he did.

“Good hunting, Astarion,” you say.

He gives you a smile as he disappears into the dark like a creeper.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[britishassistant]

Setting The Tempo

You are exhausted.

Turns out, falling through the cracked floor into a crypt is not the way you wanted to spend this morning. Nor is attempting to fight the treasure hunters who decided to kill first, ask questions never. Especially once you realized that the people with you are only highly skilled at fighting solo.

You shudder at the memory of seeing the firebolt leave Gale’s fingers and hit the grease covered floor. Which you all were standing on.

Even now, your clothes smell faintly of char.

And then, after somehow finishing off your attackers, the four of you have spent the rest of the day entirely lost inside this place.

It’s all very well to know every square inch of the place is trapped and all the doors are locked when you have nothing to disarm or unlock them with. And the one door you did manage to unlock? With the one set of tools you found that didn’t immediately break inside the lock? Led to a room of skeletons that decided being dead was less fun than trying to get you to join their number.

You don’t even know what set them off! Astarion was just leaning against a wall, lost his footing for a moment, and then you were facing a horde of undead!

You all got as far away from that room as you physically could before setting up camp.

At least the room you’ve found is somewhat spacious. Enough that everyone can set up their tents a fair distance from each other and still have room to spare. You’ve circled the perimeter a few times, and found no hidden entrances or enemies that could take you off guard. A few small antechamers, but they only open onto the main room. All is made of that same thick stone keeping you trapped here, so unless an orthon escaped the Hells and is hiding somewhere in the bowels of this place and decides to engage in some recreational wall flattening, you should be able to rest unmolested.

Ha ha. Ha.

By the gods, you wish you were hyperbolizing.

You duck behind a pillar to tug on something a little more comfortable than the leather jerkin you’ve been stuck in for the last forty eight hours.

You’d sworn you’d never forgive Trappola for making you announce yourself as “Saer Daisy Fluffington the Third” at the last inn to receive this pack of supplies. You’d doubled down once you’d seen the “bard appropriate attire” he’d selected.

Right now though, when you’re pulling on a cotton shirt and pants that feel as light and fluffy as clouds compared to your battered armor? Shoes worn to softness that ease the blisters on your feet? Not to mention fresh undergarments?

You wouldn’t be opposed to committing murder if the ginger punk needed you to, is all you’re saying.

You try and give your armor and boots a rudimentary wash with the carafe of water you’ve scavenged. The leather and cloth doesn’t look too much cleaner by the time you’re through, but hopefully it’ll mean some of the smoke smell dissipates once it dries.

You spot Gale standing by the fire. Maybe he knows some of those cantrips that make cleaning easier? Prestidigitation, perhaps? Worst he can say is no, or that he’s all out of energy for the day.

You amble over, mouth opening—

“Go to Hell.”

You stiffen on instinct, your lip curling. “And a good evening to you too.”

Gale lets out a wry laugh.

“Glad to know you’re a good sport.”

You’re really not sure what in your tone communicated that to him, but you’re not going to start a fight after everything you’ve been through today.

He resumes staring at the fire, a solemn set to his brow.

“‘Go to Hell.’ An everyday expression. So trivial it’s almost meaningless. But we’ve been to Hell. It’s real. And it isn’t trivial.”

You say nothing.

“Devils, dragons, mind flayers— they used to be abstracts. Pictures on a piece of paper.” Gale mutters. “What a difference a day makes. Now we have tadpoles slithering through our heads like carnivorous foeti.”

He looks to you, beseeching. “That’s not abstract.”

Perhaps you should take a gentle touch. Be the soothing reassurance he so clearly wants you to be.

But you’re tired and you’re sore and you’d rather say what you’re actually thinking for once before you go mad.

“Abstract or not, by now it’s kind of academic.” You spread your hands wide. “Brooding will get us nowhere. Action will.”

The wizard’s brow furrows, and his head tilts slightly to the right.

“The ballet of flames invites reflection. But, you’re right. Let’s be up with the lark—find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.” He smiles at you.

You nod. “Best plan I’ve heard all day. Good night, Gale.”

He preens slightly at that, preparing to turn away and head to his tent.

“Oh, and Gale?”

“Hm?” He looks back at you.

“Next time, I’d advise against using that line on anyone who lived through the Descent of Elturel.” You lean in, conspiratorial. “Hardly the most pleasant associations.”

The wizard actually blanches, a wave of emotion sweeping across his face.

You give him a tight smile as you turn, making a beeline for the stone door to the antechamber you’d noticed earlier.

A large hand clamps down around your elbow, jerking you to a stop.

“What were you two talking about?” Shadowheart asks, with feigned nonchalance that belies the steel in her grip.

“What do you mean?” You reply.

“You, and Gale.” Her hold tightens as you try to gently pull away. You can feel how much stronger she is than you.

How easily she could wrench your arm from its socket, if she so chose.

“We were just discussing next steps.” Your jaw is clenched as you smile. “It’s important we’re all on the same page, after all.”

“I see.” She tilts her head forward, exhaling slightly through her nose. Then she says, “I’d be careful with Gale. All wizards care about power, and there’s very little they won’t do to get it.”

You can’t help the small snort that escapes you. “I was hardly confiding in him. Besides, he’s as involved in this as we are. No harm in just talking.”

“So am I.” She holds up her free hand, as if to soothe you. “If we’re to survive, we need to trust each other.”

“Really.” You eye her hand on your arm. Pointedly.

“Yes, really.” Shadowheart breezes onward, “You seem reliable. I think you know how important it is that we find someone who can cure us. Best to focus on that.”

“Why, how bizarre!” You exclaim in mock astonishment. “Gale was just saying the exact same thing! It’s almost as though the others in this camp have the same priorities we do.”

She scowls at you, doing that odd little exhale again. “Just—! Mind who you associate with. It may come back to bite you, if you’re careless.”

“Fine. Now, if it pleases you,” You say in your most sickeningly sweet voice. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself to climb inside a tomb, curl into a little ball, and gibber my merry way into madness so that we can set out at first light in a timely manner. If I’ve your permission?”

Shadowheart’s lip curls but she lets your arm go, dismissing you with a toss of her braid as she makes her way back to her tent.

You pull a face at her back, then when you notice Astarion smirking at you, stick your tongue out at him too for good measure.

Finally, you heave open the door to the tiny antechamber you discovered earlier, pulling it shut behind you.

You spare a moment to go around the room, lighting the dust-covered torches.

Then you crouch down in a corner behind a sarcophagus, and try to scream into your hands as quietly as possible.

After a guilty two minutes of indulging in that luxury, you bite your tongue to force yourself silent.

That’s quite enough of that. You won’t get anywhere if you keep just reacting like you have so far, or let yourself get overwhelmed by it all. You need to get your brain to stop panicking and think.

Action over brooding.

It’s the only way you’ll survive.

Okay. So.

1. You have a mind flayer tadpole in your head.

2. You are trapped in a set of dark and musty ruins with three strange adults.

3. All of these adults, over the course of the short time you’ve known them, have shown a remarkable capacity for violence with very little provocation. They’re certainly more capable in combat than you, with your purloined crossbow and flute.

4. These strangers are all also implanted with a mind flayer tadpole, just like you. Though, you will admit, their survival and your own is…odd.

5. All the kidnapped thralls on that ship, many instantly killed in the crash, if not by the creepy little brains on legs after the fact. And yet you and these three adults somehow survive? How? Why you? Why them?

6. One of whom begged you to let her out of her pod, only to grow cold when she realized you weren’t alone. The other two who both admitted they were watching you as you tried to escape. If it’s a coincidence, it’s an odd one. But they all seemed to be as unknown to each other as they are to you. Unless they’re not?

7. They could all be in cahoots! And spies for the Order of the Companion or the Hellriders! You don’t know! You don’t know anything about these people!!

8. You can’t sleep because if you sleep one of them will try to kill you or the others or tie you up and use you in some creepy evil deity summoning ritual or send you back to Avernus again or they’ll turn into a mind flayer and suck out your brain or you’ll turn into a mind flayer and—

9. you can’t breathe

10. You can’t breathe.

11. You’re panicking too much. You can’t breathe. This is all a big fuss over nothing. You can’t breathe. Your thoughts are going into a corkscrew. You can’t breathe, you need to get ahold of yourself, you can’t breathe, you need to do something, you can’t breathe you need help you can’t breathe you need you can’t breathe you need—!

You lurch forward, seizing a discarded piece of masonry and dragging it into your lap.

You try to focus on the cold weight crushing your legs and stomach, try to recapture that distant memory of your heart slowing, of your mind clearing, of feeling safe.

Instead, you just feel like you’re hugging a rock as you struggle for air.

Alone.

You only drop off when your body finally succumbs to exhaustion.

Your sleep is fitful and brief, and you wake in the wee hours of the morning.

In the cold dark before dawn, you feel deep embarrassment at your histrionics last night.

So what if these adults could easily kill you? You used to manage violent thugs just like them on a daily basis. Just because you don’t have the shield of a desk doesn’t mean this has to be any different.

Hells, the fiasco that was the fight yesterday is proof enough none of them knew each other prior to this. So they’re likely to be as confused and panicked as you are. Maybe even more.

You can work with that. The Descent taught you that you excel under pressure, rallying disparate arseholes together around the common cause of ‘not dying horribly’.

And if they really are plotting together to capture you and return you to Elturel…

Well.

You now have an illithid tadpole in your head. You haven’t lived this long without learning how to leverage what little you’re given to your advantage.

First things first, you need to list the facts, set some actionable goals. Properly, this time.

First, escape this ruin. There was a locked door past all the trapped sarcophagi which might be promising if you can get to it. If you can’t disarm the traps, can you get around them somehow?

Second, find a healer/other specialist who can extract this parasite. Your alien warrior was adamant it could be done once you all reached the material plane. It’s up to you now to find out how.

Third, ensure the three violent adults don’t kill you, kill each other, or run off. They may be dangerous, but you’ve a much higher chance of surviving with them than without. Even if that means navigating the volatile group tensions that have already begun to spark.

Fourth, and only to be enacted once you’re all safely cured, is to extract yourself from these weirdos as swiftly as you can with the least amount of bad feeling possible. From there, you can make your way to Baldur’s Gate.

If you can meet up with the group of tiefling refugees you heard about on the way or once you’re in the city, so much the better.

Your original plans aren’t ruined. You’re still going to become a bard. You’re just taking a—a detour, is all. Yes.

You’re doing this.

You’ve got to.

Of course, to that end, you need to make sure they don’t abandon you at the next sign of trouble. Given that they seem to attract fights like vinegar attracts flies, you can admit that a noncombatant who isn’t even a bard yet is more of a hinderance than a help.

So you need to make yourself useful. If not liked, then tolerated. Someone who can give them all what they want most, or at least facilitate matters in their favor. Trade an attentive ear and problem-solving for protection.

Your journal is still in your pack, but you still have half a pot of ink and a quill that’s mostly intact. Once you stop to make camp again, it’ll be easy enough to dedicate three pages to your current companions’ quirks and preferences.

You’re already thinking of semi-discrete titles for each of them as you heave yourself up and stumble over to the door, limbs stiff from a night on the cobbles.

“Wizard of Waterdeep” is nice and alliterative, easy for you to associate with Gale. You deeply appreciate how easy he’s made it for you.

Astarion…hasn’t actually told you what his profession is yet, so until you can ask him and come up with something catchy, “The Pale Elf” will have to do.

Shadowheart…is tricker still. You know she’s a cleric, but you don’t know of what deity, or much else about her. “The Conniving Cleric” is far too heavy-handed. “Lady of Faith”, perhaps? Or maybe—?

“Wha’re you stomping ‘round for?!” Comes the grumpy voice from the tent of the woman in question as you poke your head around the door. “‘S dark. ‘S still night. ‘S sacred. Lemme sleep.”

You sidle out and back over to your pack as quietly as you can while whispering, “Sorry, sorry!”

There’s a grumpy noise and a muttered oath against you that you can only partially make out.

Fuck it.

“Daughter of Darkness” it is.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Dark Signs

Astarion x F! Dark Urge, Set in Act 1

18+ violence, death, dark urge shenanigans, pining, complicated feelings, heavy petting, blood drinking, fingering (f!), thigh riding, restraint, oral (f!), menstruating, Astarion being a freak, tenderness

After killing Alfira in her sleep, she can't help but seek him out...

-

"You know, I dont really even care that you killed her," he laughs, eyes unburdened.

The blood still in her hair, she stared at him. A deep and festering war inside her mind at his words.

The poor girl hours dead, she couldn't bear to hide her, to run from what she had done. So she left her there, stared at her beautiful corpse until morning. Until the others woke and discovered her sin.

The rage and disgust in their words, in their hearts were shockingly short lived. Forgiving her too easily. Of all of the transgressions, that scared her the most. They still trusted her, still relied on her.

"Well," She shoved all of her thoughts further down her throat. "I feel terrible about it."

He was the only one she hadn't spoken to about her urges. Had broached the subject with everyone else in camp, if only to ready them. There's something inside me, something that demands blood. They hadn't understood naturally, the gravity of the situation lost on them. But at least they were warned.

Having precious little chance to talk, with him being rather closed off, she hadn't had a chance to alert him.

I am a weapon, dont get closer than you need to.

But his words now, the lack of judgment, the lack of care in his eyes. It... comforted her, despite herself.

She should be punished, in words and coldness, abandonedment. Hells even death, and yet...

Why aren't you afraid of me?

The merriment and spirits floated, the tiefling refugees chattering happily. Not allowing herself any inebriation, she smiled at Halsin. Encouraged him to mingle, to have fun. Leaning in, her hand on his arm to be heard over the revelry.

Feeling the prickle of eyes on her neck, she looked up.

Crimson eyes beckoning to her.

Feeling her stomach flip she turned back to Halsin, letting an easy smile on her face as he reassured her.

No, not this. Not him.

Traveling together since that awful night, she had found herself... fascinated by him.

She had managed to stifle her feelings, keeping her yearning close to her chest. But Gods was it there.

Keeping him in her party he was unavoidable. She had considered leaving him at camp if just to see him less, but he was too good at what he does.

The way his nimble hands would twist when she needed assistance with a locked chest. Drawling voice at her back as they walked. His arrows coming down on high to strike through the chest of an enemy prey right in front of her.

She had touched herself to that memory in her tent only nights ago.

Steeling herself, she approached. Hells, what did he want?

"You know, I never saw myself a hero." He started, wine bottle sloshing in his hand. She eyed it, realizing that he can drink. Assumed that he could only drink blood. Felt another shiver at the thought. She would like to drink his blood for a change.

"But now that I'm here, I hate it. This is awful."

She laughed, surprised. Responding before she could stop herself, "Well you got to kill lots of goblins, that was fun." Felt hot shame rise up her collar at her indiscretion.

He smiled, eyes softening. "That was fun, wasnt it."

The roaring in her chest got much louder.

Allowing herself some banter, they chatted. Flirted, even. Throwing lines back and forth, until she had somehow agreed to meet him later. Alone.

She kept her face light and neutral as they parted ways, but the moment her back was turned from him. Panic. Dear Gods, panic.

Oh this was a problem, a multifaceted problem.

She should not be alone with anyone, especially someone so beautiful. He would make such a pretty corpse.

Pacing in her tent she was a mess. She should stay here, dont go. Dont go to him. For the love of all that is good, do not go.

A vision of his eyes when he fed on her, his mouth when he pouts. The way his breeches hugged his hips, the veins in his forearms.

Her tent flapped shut behind her, feet moving swiftly.

"There you are," He purred, stepping from the treeline. Chest bare, hair catching the moonlight.

No words possible, she pulled her tunic off. Hot with need. Taking her chest bindings off in the same motion.

Saw his eyes widen in surprise. "My, eager are we?" He crooned, stepping closer.

"Shut up," She traveled the distance between them. Fingers in his hair, on his hip. Pulling his mouth down to hers. Lips crashing.

She had to get it out or she would erupt.

He groaned into her, lifting her up to push against a nearby tree. Oh he shouldn't be manhandling her like this.

Wrapping her hips around his waist she kissed him hungrily, greedily. The last meal of a woman on the gallows. The one piece of relief she would allow herself.

Hips already grinding into him, seeking. An animal call. Heat. Madness.

Flipping her onto the ground he began pulling her leathers off. Lifting her hips to help him, the bite of small stones against her shoulders bringing her small clarity. Her pelvis ached, her head swimming.

He looked into her eyes, heavy with lust but something else... a twinge, a hint. Fear, she realized.

Her heart sank, he could feel it. The madness inside her. Slowing, she trailed her hand tender to his cheek.

Looking at her again, his eyes widened. She bared her neck to him.

Leaning down on his forearms, he sank into her. The cold chill welcome against her feverish skin. Trailing a tentative hand into his hair. Her long nails scratching lightly.

A quiet moan into her wound. Felt him shiver against her. Encouragement.

Hand still in his hair she let her other hand slip onto his neck, touching lightly. Trailing up to his ear.

Immediate, he bit down hard on her. Hips grinding against her thigh.

The heat rising again she ran her thumb along the long point, in awe. He groaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist he hitched her up to him. Chest to chest, straddling. Him still pulling from her neck.

"Oh Gods," She moaned quietly. The hazy miasma of lust overwhelming her again. Hips ablaze, grinding into his cold thigh. The leather of his breeches soaking.

His hand gripped her ass, pulling her harder into his leg. Heard a low growl from his chest.

Panting, she rode against him. His sharp mouth still pinning her in place against him. The slick pressure in her pelvis rising. Hands reaching for his chest, his back, something, anything to ground herself.

His pale ones, quick as lightning, found her wrists. Pulling them against her lower back, snaring them down in one hand. Her eyes hitched back. Yes, restrain me.

Still riding into him, she felt herself getting lightheaded. Though it wasn't unwelcome, Gods, anything to empty her head, knew she was losing too much blood.

"Astarion, stop," She breathed. He groaned into her flesh, still pulling.

Wrapping her thighs strong around his leg, she squeezed as hard as she could. Trying to pull him from his trance.

With the last of her strength she bit him, hard, on the shoulder. Muffled her own moan when she realized she had drawn blood. Her own blood spilling back into her mouth. Oh no, oh fuck.

He pulled off of her, gasping. The pain waking him. Looked, shocked and ashamed, into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Caron."

Hearing her name, her chosen name, her eyes watered. No, she didn't want to hurt him. She could stop.

"I'm okay," She reassured tiredly, the ever present headache receding slightly at the bloodshed. "Are you okay?" She added quietly.

He blinked at her, eyes layered in many emotions. None she could pick out with certainty.

"Darling, I'm splendid." He drawled, lying, she could tell. "Now, if you dont mind I'd like to finish ravaging you."

Confusion spiked through her. Certain that they were done, the spell thoroughly broken.

"Wait," She whispered, as his hands slid to her core. He paused, eyes searching hers.

"You dont have to, I'm okay to stop." She looked into his eyes, hoping her sincerity reached him.

Saw him swallow, eyes wavering for a moment, then coming back.

"Lay back, sweet thing." He hushed, urging her gently onto her back again. Pushing her thighs apart to accommodate him. Sliding down between them.

She sighed as she felt his breath against her thigh, letting her head fall back. Her body responding once again. Realized that the nausea backed away when he touched her. The pain, though still present, distant.

Felt a tear of relief slide down her face, glad he was too far down her body to see it.

Heard a small gasp and looked up, panicked. "Oh," He breathed, fingers swiping up her, holding them to the light. Blood.

She had started her cycle it seemed. Groaning, getting up onto elbows, about to start cleaning up. His eyes flashed.

"Dont you dare," Felt a thrill in her chest, his fingers entering his mouth. Tongue splaying, twisting along his hand. Lost in it.

She clenched, pulsing, against nothing. Her breath hot little gasps.

"This is a gift." He marveled, leaning back down. Moaned at the fresh blood her pulsing had pushed out.

Mouth crushing into her without warning. His tongue working in frenzy. Taking as much of her in as he could.

She moaned loud, arched against him. Hips already squirming.

He hooked his arms around her thighs to keep her from retreating. Slurping, suckling. Tongue crushed velvet, hot, seeking.

When he clamped down around her clit, tongue pulsing, she thought she was dying. Stars blooming behind her eyes. Body going rigid.

One hand coming down on the skin below her navel, flat, a gentle hold.

"Fingers," She whimpered out, his mouth driving her to the brink. But still she needed more.

"What was that, darling?" He mused, lifted to look at her. Gore-dripped mouth smiling.

Oh Gods, the heat. The bloodlust.

"Put your fingers in me. Now." Her voice unrecognizable to her. Low, demanding.

His eyes flashed again, pupils widening. Jaw tightening. Looking down at her like prey.

Oh only if he knew.

His two fingers slid inside her, eyes still trained on hers. Watching her head lean back, hips rising. Watched her shiver as he hooked his fingers. Smiling like a fox that caught a rabbit.

Satisfied, he leaned his mouth back down to his work. Fingers still pulling, slowly.

When the dual sensations hit her, his hungry mouth, his clever fingers, she writhed and whimpered. Hands in his hair, trying her hardest not to pull.

Her body was so tender, every touch tenfold, her cycle thoroughly started. Pinching her sensitive nipple. Clenched down hard on his fingers, pushing out more blood slick. Felt his growl reverberate against her. Tongue lapping around his fingers.

Oh she was close, her limbs feverish. The viper coiled, about to strike.

Her mind flooded. A dagger, plunging. An arterial wave of blood. Them, twisted into eachother, gore smeared. Straddled over their prey. His fingers pushing the viscera inside her.

She shrieked against him. Her end hitting her like an impaling spear. Hands gripping his hair. Arching her back so hard she heard a crack. Eyes screwed shut tight. Vicous waves of annihilating pleasure.

He eagerly lapped up all of the creamy blood slick that poured out of her, rubbing her clit, encouraging more.

She bucked against his hand, clenching again and again. His mouth catching it all.

She fell back, collapsing into the earth. All thoughts, all threatening, gone from her mind.

The night air heavy with their pheromones, the blood. Both smells intoxicating her. A spike of shame.

Well, almost all thoughts.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

It had slipped out, a near whisper, before she could stop herself.

He had laid down next to her, looked over at her now. Eyebrows threaded together, confused. Shit.

Stared at her for a moment then he laughed, face relaxing. "Oh please, you killed someone. Darling, I think you forget you're in the presence of a monster." Leaned down to draw little circles on her sternum. "You're not the only one who craves blood around here."

"You're not a monster."

He looked up at her, his eyes round. Soft. Her heart fluttered. Then they settled back into their guard.

"Common minds would disagree." Smiled at her, head tilting. "But you're not common, are you?"

Now she laughed, snorting. Everything about this so funny suddenly. Two killers seeking eachother in the grass.

He laughed with her, her light seeming to overcome him.

"Gods we should kill someone together."

She laughed even harder, falling into him.

~

Part 2

[theroseredreaper]

The Dragon In The Woods

Twisted Wonderland

Summary: The quest from Lord Flamm seemed simple enough. Go the woods and find the wandering dragon. Get the dragon out of the woods, by any means necessary, so that the towns people could use the woods again. Only…despite what he insists, there is no dragon there?

Word Count: 1900 ✯ AO3 Version

Characters: Platonic Malleus Draconia x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Reader Referred to With ‘You’ Pronouns, brief mentions of Rollo Flamm (he doesn’t actually show up), Platonic x Reader, Not Edited

Go on an adventure, they said. It would be fun, they said! You’ll get paid well, you’ll be the talk of the town! You’ll be treated like a hero for taking on Lord Flamm’s quest!

Now you were lost in the woods in the middle of the night, a boot missing, utterly chilled to the bone. Alone. No friends in sight. With a dragon allegedly on the loose.

Sure, Riddle and Trey had warned you not to wander away from the campsite. Yes, you should have understood the danger of the situation when even Che’nya was being serious about it too. But in your defense, the green fireflies you’d seen in the distance as the sun had begun to set were rather pretty and totally warranted investigating. While the others were conveniently occupied with setting up camp and thus could not supervise you.

At least, that was what you were telling yourself to feel better about the night time chill the exposed toes on your bootless foot. You should’ve taken the socks that Riddle had offered you earlier.

Who knows how long you had been lost? Certainly not you. You were half debating whether to call it a night and find a tree to sleep in or to continue your wandering, when a light in the distance caught your attention. Could it be? Had your aimless meandering actually brought you back to the campsite?

Eager for the warmth of a fire to defrost your poor toes, you hobbled on quickly towards the light. Only…the closer you got, the more obvious it became that what you saw was actually not the light of a campfire at all. The light was actually the glow of a wood stove, just within view of a window in a humble log cabin.

…hadn’t Lord Flamm told your party that no one lived in these woods on account of the wandering dragon?

“Well now, this is a surprise. You are human, are you not?”

A deep, smooth voice called out to you from behind and you whirled around to find what was arguably the tallest man you’d ever met. In the dark of night, the only thing you could really make out were his bright green eyes. Something about how they seemed to almost glow nagged at the back of your mind, but the longer you stared at his eyes, the fuzzier your mind felt.

“What brings you to my home? I was told no one lives in these woods,” he approached you, arms carrying a load of chopped wood, looking down at you with a wary sort of curiosity.

“I’m…lost,” you manage to get out past the fog in your head, the idle thought ‘Yes, Lord Flamm told me the same thing’ sluggishly tugging at you but not fully registering. “Was…separated from my friends…”

“Oh? There are more of you?”

You nodded, breaking out your stupor when he looked away from you to open the door behind you.

“Yes! We’ve come to deal with the dragon roaming around these woods, actually! Did you move here recently or something? You could be in danger!”

The man paused, blinking at you owlishly, before a chuckle escaped him unbidden. He attempted to hold himself back but soon found himself doubling over in laughter, waving away your concern and offense.

“You are most certainly fearless! You need not worry for me, I am in no danger. There are no dragons here any longer.”

From the glow of the wood stove inside you could now make out just the haziest hint of a wry smile on his face. The whole situation was suspicious, quite honestly, but your eyes met his again and you found yourself unable to grasp why you found it alarming to begin with. If anything, you were actually simply irritated, for if he had been the one that dealt with the dragon instead of you and your party, then that meant that Lord Flamm wouldn’t pay the four of you on account of you all not actually doing anything.

“Oh, uh…,”your brows furrowed, trying to gather the thoughts that just kept scattering away from you no matter how hard you tried to concentrate. “I guess I…I guess I can report back to the mayor that the woods are…dragon-free, then…”

He hummed in response, entering into his home, while you felt a headache beginning to form behind your eyes. The woods seemed to stretch endlessly into the night beyond you, the foliage too thick for even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate any paths. The only light around for miles seemed to the be the one coming from this stranger’s wood stove. The thought of wandering back out there…was entirely unappealing.

“Wandering the woods in the dead of night would not be very wise, would it?” he said, catching your attention again. His eyes swept over you appraisingly while you squirmed under his stare. Whatever he was looking for out of you, he must have found, because he then said: “Come in and warm yourself. You may stay until there is enough light for you to find your way home.”

“Huh?”

He simply gestured for you to enter, clearly not going to repeat himself for you. You were fairly sure that you ought to be more wary of him than you are, but his eyes on yours make any thoughts of the possible danger fog away in the back of your mind. You trotted into the warm, inviting cabin before he could change his mind. Once inside, you immediately began to feel warmth seep back into your bones and the haze on your mind start to fade as the man went to feed his logs to the wood stove.

“There are furs on the lounge that you may use,” he said in lieu of a goodnight, walking away to a door just beyond the wood stove. “Rest well.”

With that, he left you alone for the night. And rest well you did: wrapped up in the cozy furs on the lounge that you were pretty sure was just a regular old couch, the glow of the wood stove a gentle night light, you had the best sleep you’d had in weeks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The first hazy thoughts floating aimlessly in your waking mind were ‘comf’ and ‘sun’ as you stuck your head out the fur blanket burrito you had wrapped yourself up in during your sleep. Blinking the room into focus, the pale light of dawn coming in through the window revealed to you details about the cabin that you’d been unable to see during the dark of night. The wall by the couch had a multitude of free standing shelves resting upon it, upon which a great variety of knickknacks were lovingly displayed. Particularly shiny rocks, vibrant flower crowns that seemed frozen in time, haphazardly carved wooden figures, misshapen knitting projects, several well-worn beginner’s cookbooks…There were even some picture frames tucked into the very corner of the furthest shelf, as if purposely shoved from view but with too much care to be abandoned entirely. Before you could get up the see what the photo was, the smell of frying eggs and toasting bread hooked your attention away from the shelves and into the kitchenette a few steps away.

‘Is he all alone out here?’ was the passing thought that occupied your brain as you followed your nose.

“Ah, awake, are you? Good morning,” he greeted, plating the eggs and toast that had lured you over in the first place. If he’d seen you eyeing his things, he gave no indication of it. “I’ve made enough for the both of us. Come sit with me.”

Not one to turn up free food, you hummed something that vaguely resembled an agreement as you followed him back to the couch, accepting your plate as you sat next to him. As simple as the meal was, it was filling and comforting. A satisfying meal after all your night time wandering. Contentedly eating the last bite of your breakfast, having practically inhaled it, you looked up to find him watching you with thinly veiled amusement.

Remembering yourself, you quickly bowed at the waist at him. “Thank you for the meal! And thank you for your hospitality!”

“Your fearlessness is really quite something,” was his only response, which made you look up in confusion.

What was he going on about?

Then you noticed: now that it was morning, you could properly make out his features. A pair of elegant black horns curling about his head, high cheekbones, eyes that now appeared practically reptilian, the fangs in his smile…even his ears were inhuman, as was how deathly pale he was. Some part of you felt that perhaps you really should be scared, especially with his near demonic appearance and maybe deep down you were kind of intimidated by him and his appearance, but…

“Why would I be scared of you?” you asked with a frown. If he had wanted to hurt you, he had plenty of opportunities all through the night. Sure, he could be one of those deranged types that enjoyed psychologically torturing people, but the way he’d offer you his couch and even made you breakfast…you felt that he wasn’t that kind of person. “You helped me when I was lost and even gave me a meal when you didn’t have to. You haven’t given me a single reason to be scared of you.”

Now it was turn to be confused, staring at you with wide eyes. “My appearance does not frighten you?”

“I mean…,” your eyes strayed back up to the horns on his head. “It is a little shocking and I’m curious about the horns and the glowing eyes and the fangs, but…it’s not really any of my business, y’know? It’s only really a one time shock factor.”

His lips twitched, eyeing you curiously. “What an odd child you are.”

You scoffed, ready to respond with some sort of come back, but he was already taking your plate and walking away before you could come up with anything.

‘The morning light is strong now,” he said, gaze directed at the window by the wood stove. “You’ll have no trouble finding your companions today.”

Your eyes followed his gaze to the window and you were able to just make out the smoke of a campfire in the distance.

You’d actually been close to your friends this entire time.

“Oh…you’re right,” your eyes lingered on the window before you turned back to him, only to find him with his back turned to you as he washed the plates that two of you had used. “…uh, thanks again for helping me. I really appreciate it.”

He looked back at you with another amused smile.

“I enjoyed the company. Good luck on your journey home, adventurer.”

Gathering your things and making for the door, you couldn’t help but thank him one more time, earning you a chuckle and a wave goodbye. You waved back, some part of you hesitant to leave, but you steeled yourself and turned, putting one foot out the door. Exhaling, you lifted your head to focus on the campfire smoke in the distance, when something nagged at the back of your mind.

“Oh, I - !”

When you whirled around, there was nothing there but forest.

“I…I never asked your name…”

And I never got to ask about the dragon either…

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