#best camping knives

[noviceoutdoors]

Slick And Lightweight: Bps Knives Finn Lite Puukko Review

It’s been a while since I looked into BPS Knives. It’s one of my favorite makers. Their products are quality for sure, but best of all affordable. This little Puukko look alike is perfect for camping chores and for me whittling. Here is my first look. Impressive to say the least

[novicesurvivalist]

Crafting the Perfect Sheath for RUSSEL Green River Knife, it's getting b...

Still learning this whole leathering stuff. Feel like I am improving but still alot to learn However I persist….. Just saying…. Knowledge is a survival skill The Novice Survivalist

[moth-whisperer]

In a post apocalyptic scenario where my hormonal iud inevitably stops working and I have to deal with my period again, diva cups really are the best option. I still carry a collapsible one in my bag and honestly that would be in my apocalypse bug out bag, thank god someone gave Ellie a diva cup

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[beardedbastardoutdoors]

The Best Wilderness Knives for Hunting and Survival

Are you ready to take on the great outdoors? With these wilderness knives, you'll be fully equipped for any hunting or survival situation! Get excited for your next adventure 🌲🔪 #wilderness #knives #hunting #survival #adventuretime

If you’re a hunter or an outdoor enthusiast, you already know how essential a good hunting knife can be. You need a dependable, durable, and sharp knife that can handle a variety of tasks, such as skinning, gutting, and filleting. Additionally, if you find yourself in a survival situation, a hunting knife becomes a crucial tool for cutting branches, carving shelter, and preparing food. That’s why…

[teddiesworldd]

after the world ends.

ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance

day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.

you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.

you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 

you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 

thud. thud. snap.

footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 

“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.

you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”

he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.

“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”

you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.

his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.

“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 

you nodded slowly.

“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”

you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.

he wasn’t wrong, really.

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

his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 

it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.

after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.

however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.

he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.

“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”

and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.

“not scared, are you, doll?”

you shook your head.

“good. just making sure.”

and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.

but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.

“stay?” you whispered.

and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 

and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.

sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 

it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 

and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 

“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.

and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 

after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”

there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.

"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.

"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."

your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.

"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.

you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.

"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.

it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.

"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.

"please," you replied, "i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.

"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."

he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.

"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."

you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.

he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.

"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.

you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.

it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."

when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.

he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.

and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.

"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."

˚✧. thank you for reading!

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[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fourteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach. 

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are. 

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all. 

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?" 

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost." 

"Paul didn't like me in that way," you reaffirm. "Besides, he's dead."

There is a lingering pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost. 

"So when are you and Ghost going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up from another dream, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip. 

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

It's another dream that night which pushes you to actually confront him. The loud voices sharpen into images— a bloodied knife at your throat, a toothy smile, carved body parts. You wake up and grab your neck, expecting to feel severed tissue. Instead, you feel damp skin. Something bubbles up your throat and fills your mouth. Squirrel and Pink Sorrel. The taste makes you shudder, but you swallow your dinner back down. The dark, quiet living room mocks you. 

The morning after that, you find him on the porch. It's not raining, but the air pricks the back of your neck with dew. You've already bathed and woven your hair into braids, which is growing longer by the day and bordering on an inconvenience.

Ghost tilts his head the second a wood plank creaks beneath your footsteps, tearing his gaze away from the assortment of carving knives in his lap. You've caught him in the moment before he's started to work on your bow again.

He is wearing that balaclava that makes him look more man than ghost, along with a black hoodie and faded, brown jacket. The whites of his eyes are visible, slowly sliding up to yours. You fully realize he isn't going to greet you with a hello, and standing there in an uncomfortable silence doesn't interest you, so you bite the bullet.

"I want to start that other thing I asked you for."

He seems to know what you're referring to. "Right now?"

Your nails dig into your palms, realizing that you should've waited for a time when he wasn't preoccupied. Though, he's hardly ever not doing something. 

Blue was right. Something about him has you subconciously on the defensive; it's something you want to get over if this living arrangement is going to be long-term, which you'd prefer it to be. It was about two months ago now that he nearly killed you, and since then, he has kept you alive ten times over. Maybe you should focus on that: on the hand that pulled you up, on the warm jacket over your shoulders, on the bow he is making.

"Whenever you have the chance. But— now, if we could."

Ghost lowers his eyebrows and seems to think it over. "Now is fine. Your bow will have to wait a bit, then."

"That's okay," you speak as you exhale. "I don't mind."

It's at that moment Blue pushes through the front door and you almost startle. "Can I come with you guys?"

Ghost folds his knives up and responds in a firm tone. "No. You have work to finish up."

"But my leg is hurting," she retorts lightly. "I'd rather sit and watch you guys."

"Your leg was just fine yesterday when you were hunting and climbing trees." 

"That was yesterday. Today, it hurts." She bites her lip and shrugs.

"How convinient." He gives her a dry look.

"So is that a yes?"

"It's a no."

With a groan, she goes back inside. 

Ghost escorts you out of the gate and towards a small clearing nestled within a circle of trees. As you follow behind him, you find your eyes straying to his broad back and for a moment, you wonder if maybe you've changed your mind— or maybe you want to tell him to wait until Blue can come join.

But you remind yourself that survival is a proactive game; you can't laze around and keep getting sick from the memories. You need to shut them away into that box you've made, and in the meantime, get stronger.

"Here is good," he says, stopping.

It's been awhile since you've done anything like this. There were plenty of times Paul 'trained' you. He used to make you shoot at the trees until your back muscles were practically immobile. As an ex forest ranger, he wasn't much of a fighter. His advice was always this: "Don't let anyone or anything get close enough to where you have to fight them."

Clearly, his advice can only go so far.

In the five years you were at your old camp, you managed to keeps things at a distance for the most part. A few Greys had snuck up on you, resulting in thrashing and wrestling around to avoid bites. But there were only one or two times that you had to engage in close combat with a human. The few other survivors you encountered were usually punished by Paul's rifle or your arrows. 

You shed your jacket and hang it on a branch, left in just Ghost's shirt and your jeans. "So, um, what should I start with? Running laps?"

"You want to learn how to defend yourself, not run a marathon."

"Right." You nod and rub at the gooseflesh that sprouts on your arm. You turn to face him. "I was joking."

Ghost ignores your comment with a pensive expression, staring you down across the short distance. You put on a blank face and meet his eyes expectantly. 

The silence stretches for a second longer than what would be deemed normal. Is this just how he is, then? Or is it only with you? You're about to say something to put an end to it when he suddenly crosses his arms over his chest.

"You were a nurse." It should come out like a question, but it's more of a statement. His voice nearly makes you jump. 

You can't help it; you look away. "Um. I... wasn't, actually."

Why is he bringing this up? Never once has he asked anything about you. In fact, you sometimes toy with the thought that he might have forgotten your real name by now.

"Figured," he says.

You frown, flashing him a confused look. "What? Why?"

"You're a bit too young to have been a nurse five years ago."

You think back to the moment he found you with an inward wince. "So you knew I wasn't telling the truth?"

"It didn't matter if you were or not."

That's right. I don't need a nurse, he said. 

"It wasn't a total lie," you clarify, dropping your arms at your sides. "I was in nursing school."

He rubs his chin. "You should understand the body, then— its weak points."

Your fingers flex before they gesture to your face. "The nose and eyes are obvious ones. But... but if someone grabs me from behind like," you forcefully inhale, "Like you did, then I won't be able to reach them."

He gives a short nod, then looms closer. You will your boots to remain planted in the damp soil despite the overwhelming proximity and intimidating mass of him. You blink up as he points a gloved finger to the hinge of his jaw. "There's this, too. Pretty easy to dislocate." His fingers move to side of his corded neck. "And here. The throat is weak and vital."

"I still wouldn't be able to reach those," you point out.

"You have more than just your arms, Twix."

"So my head, then?"

"That's one way." He moves a step back and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Why don't you show me what you'd do— give it a try."

The suggestion should be expected given what you're asking of him— of course he would have to touch you at somepoint. Yet, it makes you stiffen. He motions his hand for you to turn around and with great hesitance, you comply, until you hear the crunch of twigs beneath his boots as he closes in behind you. You stare straight ahead at a tree and focus on breathing. 

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

His flat tone makes your eyes twitch in irritation and you are glad he can't see them. "Yeah. I know."

Just as he did all that time ago, his burly arms wrap around you, though not as firm and threatening. Your feet don't hang and you're not skin and bones this time, but once again, you are imprisoned against a hard chest. Your lungs pick up their pace and an artery in your neck jolts. 

"Just show me what you'd do," he says slowly, warm breath fanning across the top of your hair. "Don't worry about hurting me."

You wriggle against him, but even without issuing all his strength, it's useless. You stomp on his foot, figuring that toes are pretty vulnerable, but his thick boot hurts your sole more than you could possibly have hurt him. Your eyes begin to sting. You suddenly find yourself panting in frustration. Before you can even think about trying to use your head, full-blown panic unfurls in your chest. 

"Let go," you say under your breath. He must not hear you. Your voice turns to a snarled hiss. "Fucking let go of me."

His hold immediately loosens and you stagger forward, creating much-needed distance. Heavy breaths scratch up your throat. You wipe the back of your hand over your forehead and close your eyes for a moment, seeing blood and burnt skin against the backs of your lids. When you reopen them, Ghost is staring at you. The humiliation sets in as a red flush on your cheeks.

"Sorry," you shake your head and stare up at the clouded sky. "Just— maybe we should go back." Your arms hug around your stomach to keep its contents contained. "We can start this another day."

Throwing up in front of him again is low on the list of things you'd enjoy doing. He's already seen you near-death— no need to add a mental breakdown to your repertoire. Your lips press tightly together as you head to the tree for your jacket, but his gruff voice pauses your fingers against the embroidered flag on its sleeve.

"This isn't going to work if you don't tell me what is bothering you."

Your hand drops. "What?"

"What happened when you went to get the ammo, Twix?" he presses.

"I..." 

To tell him would be to pry open that box you've made and let him peek inside. He has never even asked a single question about you until today, so you press onto the lid, tight, and turn to face him with pleading eyes. "I don't want to talk about it with you, Ghost. Don't make me."

In response, he lifts up his hands in resignation. "Alright." He lowers them. "Why don't you at least tell me how you handled it?"

"Why?"

He taps a finger to his masked temple. "So I can understand how you think. How you keep surviving all this shit."

The wave of nausea settles as you form your response. "I... I burned him. He cleaned the bite on my arm with some alcohol. I distracted him a little and then smashed the bottle on his head. I had my lighter, so I used it."

Slowly, he nods, as if your words are not all that surprising to him. "And how about at the base when I left you?"

"There was that Grey," you remind him. "I bit the guy's nose and pushed him into it. If it hadn't been there, Blue and I would be dead. You see? I survived because I was lucky. I hardly know what I'm doing."

Ghost argues. "You survived because you saw opportunities and took them. You were smart about it."

"And what about when there are no opportunities? I will just panic like I did now." The tightness in your chest turns into something that has you roughly grabbing the jacket and sheathing your bare arms. "Let's just go back now.”

This time, he doesn't protest. The silence that clouds the short walk back is expected on his part, and purposeful on yours. 

[avocado-writing]

May I ask for a companions x Tav headcanons list were Tav loves to cook and see's it as a way to people's hearts?

Astarion

Obviously is sad he cannot partake more, as he sees how much effort and love you put into your cooking.

You make an effort to make richly-flavoured blood dishes he might enjoy, just for him! But everyone thinks it’s just a tad bit morbid (and he agrees) so won’t ask you to go out of your way for him.

“Besides darling, I prefer to sample straight from the source…”

One night you’ve just pressed some parsley leaves to your neck for flavouring for him. He laughs so hard he cries. This is the first time he realises he loves you.

Gale

Oh, the camp’s resident cook is delighted to have a sous-chef!

And then he realises oops, no, he is the sous-chef. At which point he’s just happy to sit and watch you work your magic.

Happy to make dinner in order to pull his weight in the group, but he’s entranced watching you do it, too. You’re a wizard with some knives and a saucepan.

He can feel the love you put into every bite. Always makes sure to go out of his way to compliment you, and loves the way you smile in return ❤️

Wyll

After spending so much time on the road, he’s so happy to be in the presence of a good cook.

With every bite will discuss the flavour palate of your dish, talking about what herbs he can taste, letting you know he appreciates your effort.

He’s not a brilliant chef himself but would love for you to teach him!

In return he saves up to buy you fancy chocolates from the best chocolatier in Baldur’s Gate. It’s the least you deserve, and the way you light up makes his heart beat fast.

Karlach

Whatever you make, she loves.

“Pasta? My favourite! Oh my god, we’re having steak? I love it! Rice tonight? Right on!!”

She doesn’t have a favourite food. Dishes in Avernus were not wide in range, so she’s just happy to eat some different meals for once.

You give her seconds and thirds and she eats them up, going on and on about what a good cook you are.

“You’re so amazing at this! I love you!”

Good thing she’s too engrossed in her food to notice how flustered you are…

Lae’zel

Reluctant to eat anything at first.

“I do not want your istik food. I shall provide for myself.”

But after a few days of smelling how good the food is that you cook, she gives in… still trying to pretend it’s beneath her.

You serve her a small portion to start with, then watch her eyes widen as she realises how delicious it tastes.

She is too proud to ask for more - and you’d not have her any other way - but you make sure to serve her big portions from then on. Her bowl is always scraped clean.

Shadowheart

Isn’t too sure on your cooking at first - she’s used to bland, tasteless meals at the temple - but quickly comes around.

The longer you’re together and the closer you become, the more she opens up about her favourite flavours. Eventually she starts making requests.

“There’s this sort of cake I vaguely remember… if I can get you the honey, could you make it for me?”

Of course you can. You sit down and share it, watching her eyes roll back in delight, the way she licks the crumbs off of her fingers. The two of you are enamoured with each other, but you still fight over the last slice.

[queer-little-demigod]

you belong with me - clarisse la rue

summary she's in love with her best friend.

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!Poseidon!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings jealous!clarisse, swearing, pining, knives, clarisse threatening people, fluff.

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune, check out their account!

At this point, Clarisse had no clue how the hell she fell for you.

You relationship had started when she'd tried to intimidate you on your first day at camp, and instead of backing down under her fierce as death gaze, you had threatened her at literal knifepoint.

"I've stood up to bullies bigger than you," you'd snapped, your soft e/c blazing with fire as the tip of a dagger kissed the underside of her jaw. “So back off, or I’ll make you regret it.”

While that earned you respect amongst everyone in camp, it earned you respect of every Ares cabin member, too.

Especially Clarisse la Rue.

The scariest girl in camp.

It had started off with her debating on whether or not she would be mean to you, making you her enemy, or befriending you.

She was strong, not stupid, so she chose the latter option.

Which brought you both here, today, three years later.

The spring season had started setting in, flowers were blooming, the sun was pleasant, wind wasn't scarce and it was cool. Sitting under the trees in the woods became a natural pastime for year-round campers like the two of you.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting irregularly shaped shadows on the ground, turning them a deep green on the slightly prickly but comfortable grass.

Clarisse leaned her back against the big tree you both were sitting under, polishing her spearhead, with you in front of her, doing the same for your knives.

The daughter of Ares, while she'd never admit it aloud, was absolutely smitten when it came to you. In fact, this feeling had been lingering in her heart for some time, one which attracted her to you in a definitely non-platonic way.

So here she sat, listening to you talking. Your voice was the only thing she was focused on besides polishing her weapon. It stood out amongst the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees, the call of a distant bird, the lapping of the lake's water against the edge just past the clearing.

"So, I told Silena that Charlie's in love with her, not her actual dumb blonde of a sister, Sharon," you said, rubbing the polish on the cloth you had in hand, before continuing to polish your left-hand knife. "You know, for a child of Aphrodite, she is remarkably oblivious towards loving advances. Oh, and you know that girl, Kyra, from the Hephaestus cabin? My gods, she has been looking so fine--"

Clarisse stopped listening right then. She knew you were smitten with this girl from the Hephaestus cabin, and by every one of the ever-merciful gods of Olympus, she hated it. She hated how you talked about Kyra, how your eyes lit up when the muscled girl covered with grease so much it was an accessory would glance at you.

She tuned out and stared at you, not noticing the disdainful look on her face.

"Risse, you look like you just smelled a wild centaur," you laughed, putting the cloth down and sheathing your knives again.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and grumbled, "No, I don't like Kyra's vibe."

"Aww, jealous?"

"You wish,"

You were so oblivious. Not only were you unaware that Kyra was a playgirl, but you didn’t notice that Clarisse was smitten with you to the point where it was embarrassing.

For starters she looked at you like you were the world. With adoration, awe, and wonder. She honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She hated how you didn’t notice how her eyes lit up around you, how she was softer with you compared to others, how she let you paint her nails (mostly) without complaint.

You were just too oblivious.

Naturally, that evening, that same evening, she was at the Ares table, talking with her own siblings, while she watched you help Percy out with the rest of the camp’s social structures—something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, even after having gone on a quest.

But the way her blood boiled, as if a furnace had lit up inside her heart, making fire course through her veins, when Kyra came up to you. She saw how flustered you got, saw the way your cheeks reddened when Kyra brushed a hair from your face.

By the gods and her father’s name she wanted to smack that Hephaestus girl into next week…

Meanwhile, you say with Kyra, enjoying the butterflies in your stomach when she touched you, laughed at your nervous rambling’s. But the butterflies suddenly came into light as a warning. What was the likeliness that this affection would last? What was concrete in this interaction? Was it just a playful banter? Or something serious?

So many questions, not enough answers.

But one thing was for certain: Kyra wasn’t the one for you. It took just one interaction for you to understand that.

To understand that Clarisse was right.

But before you could walk away, your hotheaded best friend, seething with anger, jealousy rolling off her in waves, came up to you both and ‘borrowed’ Kyra for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clarisse asked as she led a very surprised Kyra into the forest. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, playing with Y/n’s feelings like that?”

“Come on,” Kyra laughed, Nerva wearing off a little as her arrogance took over. “She’s a girl, a smitten little girl, who knows she likes a little bit of muscle,”

“Unfortunately she doesn’t know that there’s a snake under that damned muscle,”

“Jealous, Clarisse? Of course you are,”

“What that supposed to mean, punk?”

“You’re so in love with Y/n, it shows. Everyone in camp can tell,”

“Oh is that right? If you know that so well, then you’d better stay the fuck away from her,”

Kyra’s brows shot up. “Is that so? What if I don’t? What if I take her to this very spot, and kiss her, maybe while you watch from the bushes over there?”

Clarisse felt her fists clench, felt her whole body tense up with an adrenaline that came out only during battle.

“What if I break your legs and punch that stupid face in?” She asked, eyes full of the familiar fire that only her opponents saw. “I don’t think Y/n likes the taste of blood.”

She relished the look of panic on Kyra’s face. The trapped-animal stare, the darting irises, searching for a way out, analysing her moves in that second. The tense muscles, clenched jaw, closed fists. All of it was familiar to the child of war.

But how familiar was it to the child of the forge? Not much, probably.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/n, and you and I won’t have any problems, Kyra,” Clarisse said, her voice soft. That made it more dangerous. It was soft like the gentle rain that preceded the flooding thunderstorm—a warning.

Kyra nodded, knowing it was unwise to provoke Clarisse La Rue, especially over a girl everyone in camp knew not to mess with.

But it also meant that Clarisse figured out the depth of her love for you. That it was deeper than the vastest sea, stronger than the biggest tsunami, and more damaging than a hurricane. It was fiercer than fire, more powerful than a blow from her spear, and definitely more dangerous than war.

So she’s decided to flush out her feelings. Get them out before things got worse because she couldn’t possibly find a way to get out of the ‘philia’ situation she had going with you. She wanted ‘eros’, wanted ‘ludus’, and she knew it.

Her catalyst was the mind, she wanted it to be the body., wanted it to be the heart. She wanted you in a way that friends never wanted each other. She wanted you the way Achilles wanted Patroclus, wanted you the way Romeo wanted Juliet, the way Orpheus wanted Eurydice.

She wanted you and only you.

But she could never have that.

So she decided the best way to manage her haywire heart was distance.

But by every one of the gods, big and small, was she wrong.

You found that Kyra didn’t look in your direction ever again, and additionally, found Clarisse avoiding you with nearly psychotic fervour.

Three days. You tolerated it for three days.

Finally you stormed up to Clarisse when she was training. With a swift kick to the back of her knee, you sent her crashing to the ground, disarming her spear from her.

“What did you think you were doing, avoiding me like this?!” You seethed, knife at her throat. “What, was this your idea of punishing me for having Kyra flirt with me?”

Calmly, Clarisse moved you off her like one would brush away a particularly disgruntled cat, and stood up.

“Look, I’m fine, I wasn’t doing anything,” she shrugged, grabbing her spear.

You rolled your eyes. This girl was dumb, stupid, and an absolute useless person when it came to interacting with others.

“I don’t think ignoring me for three straight days can be counted as ‘not doing anything’!” You snapped, annoyed.

Clarisse flinched at your tone.

“Why?!” You asked, following her around as she cleared up the arena. “Why exactly have you been ignoring me, hm?”

She listened patiently to your incessant pestering, going about her business while you looked like you were about to blow a gasket with how mad you were since your hands began to move more animatedly, your frown deepening even more.

“Why the hell did you say that nothing’s wrong when something clearly is?! Are you jealous? Is that it?! Why?!” You asked, expecting her not to reply the way she had been the last ten minutes.

Clarisse had had enough. She was taking the plunge into that deep dark sea, not sure if she was ready to face the monsters in it.

“Because I’m in love with you!” She said, turning around with a terrified look on her face. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do about it because you clearly don’t love me back!”

You stood silent for a second too long. But she didn’t run. She stayed there, waiting for your answer.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, baffled.

No butterflies, nothing fluttered in your stomach, your heart rate merely quickened and your body pulsed in every place with serotonin.

No butterflies meant this wasn’t just a thing, a fling. It wasn’t mindless flirting.

This was ‘ludus’, the love of intimacy, pure love.

“Yes, Y/n, and it kills me every single day, hearing you ramble about Kyra, and you know what I’m thinking when you talk about her like that?” She asked, tears ready to come out of her eyes. “I think that I could treat you like a queen, like you’re above Hera herself. I think that why would you love a playgirl who won’t give a single fuck about your feelings, when I’m here already knowing what you want for breakfast every day of the week! I think that I could be better than her, that I am better than her, in every possible way, but you’re just blind! You don’t see that I look at you like you’re the world because you’re so smitten with a girl who would toss you aside for the next blonde girl she sees!”

You listened to her carefully, taking in her words. In between, neither of you knew when, she had started crying. Small tears rolled down her bronze skin, tracing small pathways in their trail of sadness, of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you replied softly, stepping closer, putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was blind to how you feel about me, I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,”

“And Y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? I can’t…I know that we can never be together and…” she stopped short when your hands went up to cup her cheeks.

“Why is that?”

“Philia, Y/n. Friendship love.”

“Who says it can’t progress?”

“You don’t love me back,”

“I do,”

“Friendship love doesn’t count here,”

“Bold of you to assume I’m talking about friendship,”

Clarisse froze.

“I love you too, Clarisse,” you said softly, looking at her in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about ‘philia’. Gods I love you the way Achilles loved Patroclus, the way Romeo loved Juliet, the way Orpheus loved Euridyce,”

“I thought that too,” she whispered, shocked. “How…”

“I know that because these three romances are the ones I’ve read to you,” you replied. “I know you, Clarisse. But I was too blind to see your love went past my mind and extended to my heart, my body, my soul. And I’m sorry for being blind.”

“You belong with me, not her,”

“Do you see me doubting that?”

She giggled softly. Clarisse La Rue, the most feared girl in camp, giggled like a little kid.

“It’s okay, I guess, you little dumbass,” she chuckled. “So…what now?”

“I don’t know, do we kiss?” You asked, confused. “You know I have never kissed a girl before and—“

She silenced you with a finger to your lips.

“Let’s…take it slow? Ease into it?” She asked. “Cause I have never kissed a girl either,”

“Be my girlfriend, though?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Breakfast

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT

Locked in a bathroom stall with a hungry vampire was not how you planned to spent your time hiding from a herd. Inspired by a post by @norman-fucking-reedus

The herd came out of nowhere, giving you no other option but to be yanked into the tiny toilet stall of the abandoned restaurant.

Bless it for at least having a seat cover so you could sit down while you waited.

Daryl was breathing heavy below you, clearly at his limits after the morning's hunt failed too thanks to possibly the same walkers ruining your camping spot for the day.

You also thanked the overgrown greenery that covered most of the milky glass above you, keeping the sun away from you to a point where it would't hurt Daryl.

"Hey, you gotta eat." You patted his cheek and held out your wrist to his mouth. "It'll be fine, I can't go out and hunt for you now."

He went rigid and shoved you off him, against the stall door. It was as far as you could go seeing your situation. "No humans. Ya know wha' happened. Ya saw me."

You huffed and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "So you killed that guy, we all hated him anyways. He was harrasing you." Taking your hands out of your pockets again, you had materialized one of your tiny knives and flipped it open. "I'm not scared. And you love me too much to kill me." With a wide smile you sat back in his lap again. "Come on, you need the energy. I have my food in my bag, I'll be okay."

It was clear he didn't want to, but he knew it was his only choice if he wanted to make it out alive. Neither of you had any idea how long the herd was gonna stick around and while you could survive two days on your rations, Daryl would be unconcious by nightfall if he didn't feed.

"Yer insane, ya know tha, right?" He shook his head but still braced himself for what he was about to do.

You had straddled him in the most comfortable position you could get in and ran your fingers through his hair to calm him, ever so slowly pressing his face closer to your neck. You were pressed up against each other with no change to get away now, and with a last deep breath you felt Daryl's lips against your skin. He kissed a few times before the harsh sting of his fangs made you tense up. A soft gasp and a squeeze of the strands of hair you held onto went on deaf ears as he busied himself feeding off you.

And god, it felt.. good? It stung at first, but the gentle sucking now went straight down to your core.

But it was clear you weren't the only one enjoying it more than you though, feeling Daryl grow hard in his jeans underneath you.

While you kept one hand in his hair to yank if he got too far, you lowered the other one down to his pants and worked on getting him out of them. He must hurt so bad..

You rolled your hips in trial and earned a moan so deep you didn't think he had it in him. He was normally so quiet.

You pulled his head back but kept yourself attached, moving to shove off one sneaker. With your pants undone and off one leg you sat back down on his lap fully bare before going back to working on his pants, freeing him and continueing to rub against him. "Do I taste that good, baby?"

"Mhmmm.." A rut of his hips and a positive moan answered for you, wasting no more time and lining him up with your entrance and letting him push all the way in, a soft rut with each suck on your neck. You tried your best to keep your moans as quiet as possible but it was difficult with how good it all felt.

Once he was all the way inside he finally took his mouth off you with a deep intake of air. "Fuck, yer even crazier than I thought.." The punctures still bled, slowly trickling down the neckline of your shirt before they were being lapped up in rythm with Daryl's thrusts that kept picking up the pace.

You planned to ride him slowly while he fed but he was holding you still and fucking up into you like he was possessed.

With just one hand he kept your hips in place while the other had your body pressed against him, giving him the perfect angle to keep licking and sucking at your neck while he mumbled praises against your skin.

"D.. Daryl please, fuck, my legs.." You weren't made for bathroom stall sex and especially not while being drained by a very blood drunk vampire.

You held no power against him, every tug to move him was futile. You had to power through the feeling of your legs becoming like jello and his body rubbing against your clit with every thrust. His grunts were getting more frantic. Wet, openmouthed kisses trailed all the way around your neck before he sucked hard on the puncture wounds and you felt the blood flow out in a gush.

He didn't swallow, instead seal his lips and move his hand up to pull at the back of your head and shove his mouth against yours. As his tongue forced its way into your mouth a good amount of blood followed, running out the corners of your mouth and making a mess all over yourselves. His kisses were never very coordinated but this was messy, grunts and moans, open mouthed and all teeth and tongue as you both chased your highs. Your fingers tugging his hair and rubbing your clit between your bodies.

Clenching around him, so close to your climax you hastened your touches and gathered yourself to meet his thrusts halfway to intensify the feeling.

You finished with a harsh bite on Daryl's tongue to muffle your sounds and pulled him right over the edge with you.

He let go of your hip then and you slumped against him, groaning in protest as he licked at the bitemarks on your neck. "Daryl, no.. please.." You barely mamaged to raise your hand to push at him, but he ensured you it was needed. "Helps healin'. Jus' relax." You felt his smile against your skin and let yourself breathe.

"So.." You leaned back a bit to look him in the eyes. "Changed your mind about humans?" Your sneaky smile had him let out a breathy laugh.

"Ya know wha? I'll keep ya with me fer emergencies." He licked his lips, cleaning some blood off them as you weakly smacked his arm and giggled.

Damn. You really had to get cleaned up and eat something..

[noviceoutdoors]

Crafting the Perfect Sheath for RUSSEL Green River Knife, it's getting b...

Still learning this whole leathering stuff. Feel like I am improving but still alot to learn However I persist….. Just saying…. Knowledge is a survival skill The Novice Survivalist

[novicesurvivalist]

Reviving Vintage Scout Knives

A favorite hobby of mine us to find old folding knives and restore them. It is a very satisfying project. Bringing back an old life to new. Be safe and remember knowledge is a survival skill The Novice Syrvivalist

[links-in-time]

A Problem Shared

This fic was inspired by this brilliant short comic by @mirensiart. Go check out their work it's awesome.

“Anyone else see that Wizrobe cast a spell on us during battle?” Asked four.

“Nothing happened though,” Wild shrugged, holding up a hand to count his fingers. “I feel fine.”

“Could it be a slow acting spell?” Time mused. “Stay alert to any changes.”

“Hmm, I don't recognise this magic,” Hyrule uttered, mostly to himself.

“Great!” Legend exclaimed, hands on his hips, scowl across his face. “A surprise spell, that's great! With our luck the spell will randomly make us explode or something.”

As the veteran continued to speculate, a fly appeared in Wind's vision. It wafted lazily about, buzzing irritatingly.

“Heh, we're not going to explode Vet,” Sky chuckled softly, finding the image alarmingly funny.

“You don't know that!” Legend bellowed in response.

At that moment the fly had the audacity to land on Wind's cheek. In retaliation, Wind slapped his hand to his face, squishing the bug with a satisfying clap.

“Ow!”

“What was that?!”

“Ouch!”

“What the fuck?!”

“Oww.”

“Sailor!”

“Agh!”

“What's going on?!”

Wind stared around at his companions. Each was rubbing their own cheek, as though they had all been slapped across the face.

“Wait… you all felt that too? Oops, sorry.” Wind shrugged, very confused and beginning to turn his suspicions onto the fly smashed into his palm.

“Yeah”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

“Yeeah”

“Yes…”

They all replied at once.

Wars let out a long pained sigh as he rubbed his freshly raw cheek.

“So… a spell that shares pain huh…” he grumbled.

He and Twilight caught each other's eye and the same sickening thought passed between them.

“We are so dead.”

***

The first few hours passed by without much incident. Though each of the Link's found themselves a little short of breath after their hike up a steep valley. As they stopped to make camp, they all sighed a collective breath of relief to have a long rest. Even Wind and Wild, who would usually have bounded up the trail like mountain goats. Meanwhile Sky tried his best not to look too guilty.

Nothing of note happened during their evening meal either. Though Wild feared he might actually spontaneously combust from how many times the others told him to be careful with his knives, as he chopped vegetables for stew.

“Ooh hot!” Sky hissed, as he swallowed a mouthful of broth before blowing on it.

“Ouch!”

The exclamation rang around the ring of heroes, each experiencing the same sting of pain to their tongues. Waterskins and canteens were quickly reached for, to extinguish the burning in their mouths.

“Sky, can you please not burn off all our taste buds?” Legend asked, turning a wry look on his brother.

“Sorry, I wasn't thinking,” Sky pailed, taking extra care with his next mouthful.

“It's alright Sky, besides, the Captain doesn't have any sense of taste anyway!” Time smirked, before shoving a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

“Hey, take that back!” Warriors demanded, playfully slapping Time across the shoulder.

He regretted it instantly of course, when the same mild shock struck his own shoulder.

“Wars?” The others grumbled.

“Let's just try to refrain from any horse play, alright?” Twilight suggested, carefully inching away from Hyrule and Wild on either side of him. “We've gotten pretty familiar with each other on this journey. We can easily hurt each other without really trying.”

“And what's the bet that all of our pain tolerances are different?” Legend remarked, staring down into his stew.

He eyed the rings adoring each of his fingers. Legend struggled to remember the last time he had taken any of them off. Though he had given the healing ring to Rulie to borrow briefly.

Most granted him some kind of power or protection. However, there was one in particular which he knew he couldn't live without. The Vet swallowed a lump of carrot as he wondered how things would fair in the morning. Maybe if he tried to be the last one out of bed, it wouldn't be so bad.

“Let's just get some rest and hope this spell wears off by morning,” Time suggested.

“Agreed,” Wars chimed in.

The boys finished their meals and tucked themselves into their bed rolls, a safe distance away from each other. Previously on more than one occasion, someone had woken from a night terror and attacked the closest body. No one wanted an incident like that while they were trying to get some sleep.

***

“You feel any change this morning?” Four asked Twilight, as he staggered over to where the older hero was perched on a log on last watch.

“Don't think so, but then we didn't feel any different after the spell hit anyway. I don't reckon we'd know if it wore off without trying it out.”

“Hmm, you first!” Four chuckled.

“Yaww! Morning,” Sky yawned, as he sat up and stretched.

He smiled as he caught sight of his brothers.

“Anyone else awake yet?” He asked, rubbing the crust from his eyes.

“Not yet, but…” Twilight began, but he was cut off, as a surge of pain stabbed through what felt like his entire body.

Four dropped to his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso.

“Ahh!” Sky breathed, leaning forwards as the wave of aches washed over him.

“What the heck?!” Warriors exclaimed in a sleepy angry voice.

He rolled onto his side and out of his blankets as he squeezed his eyes shut. The others were all making similar cries and moans as they were rudely awoken by whatever had inflicted this all-encompassing pain upon them.

“Sorry everyone.” They heard Wild say sheepishly.

He carefully stretched his neck and limbs before getting to his feet and stumbling towards the fire.

“It's the scar tissue, it gets stiff in the mornings. Especially if it's chilly like it was last night,” he explained.

“I know what that kind of ache feels like,” Wars sighed, “this isn't that Wild. This is something else.”

“It’s me,” Legend muttered.

Sitting cross legged on his bed roll with his head hanging, the others struggled to see the veterans face.

“What do you mean it's you?” Hyrule frowned, slowly getting up and wincing against the pain. Had Legend somehow managed to hide an injury from them?

“The pain, it's something I've had for a long time. This ring helps, but first thing in the morning is always the worst.”

Legend held up his hand for the others to see. Though he wore so many rings he could have been referring to any of them. He swept his fingers through his fluffy fringe to brush it off his face, before dropping his hand in his lap.

“How, how long have you been dealing with this Lege?” Hyrule asked hesitantly.

Legend was aware that Hyrule had been inching steadily closer. Any moment he expected his successor’s hands to start glowing. He needed to put his mind to rest quickly. Well, as much as he could.

“A long time, Rulie. And before you start, I've tried every healing remedy under the sun. Even magic ones, so your healing magic won't help. I'm sorry, but it just won't.”

“Legend,” Sky sighed, finally out of his blankets and sitting close to the embers of the fire.

“I don't want your pity, any of you,” Legend hissed, turning his gaze around the group. “And you'd all say the same if it was the other way around. It'll be tolerable in half an hour or so.”

“We've broken camp in less time than that before,” Four sighed, plonking himself on the ground beside Sky.

“Does that mean every morning we've got on the road, you've secretly been dealing with this pain?” Wind asked.

Legend thought the kid looked like he was dealing with his and Wild's morning aches worst of all. Even his voice sounded strained as he stumbled towards where Time sat on his bedroll.

“I just,” Legend sighed. “It can't be helped, so I just get on with things, same as the rest of you.”

“We'll wait until everyone feels well enough to move.” Time decided, pulling Wind against his side as the sailor sat down beside him.

“Fine, but this better not become a regular thing. I can deal with my own curses the same as everyone else!” Legend insisted, fixing Time with an intense stare.

“Curse?” Wild asked, suddenly even more concerned.

“Figure of speech Champ,” Legend winked at him.

***

If Warriors was less combative towards the Veteran from that moment on, no one mentioned it. If Hyrule felt more inclined to stick close to his predecessor, Legend didn't mind it. The others tried not to think about their brother's many aches and pains earned from years of adventuring. Not to mention the fact that the guy hadn't even hit twenty yet.

Time sighed as they walked along the woodland trail and considered his own lot. He was the oldest, sure, but not by a lot. The others had made wild guesses about his age, but in truth he believed himself to be in his mid thirties. Time couldn't be sure of course, he'd never known when his birthday was. But Malon thought they were the same age and that was good enough for him.

Time and many battles had given the man his own share of aches and sore joints. Though not bad enough apparently to debilitate the whole group. He thought about how poor Wind had still struggled to get moving, even after the rest seemed to have recovered. Twilight had given the kid a piggyback ride until he felt steady enough to walk on his own.

Legend drew the sailor into a one armed hug and muttered an apology. But Time heard Wind insist that Legend had nothing to be sorry for. He expressed just how impressed he was that the veteran hero still got up every morning and got on with his job, the same as the rest of them. Legend didn't respond, but as Time glanced over his shoulder he caught the tips of Legend's ears turning pink.

***

The Lynel literally walked into them. Whether it had been laying in wait for them, or just happened upon a group of heroes in the wild, no one cared to ask.

“No heroics!” Warriors shouted almost immediately.

As swords and other weapons were drawn, a million memories flashed through his mind. All those times one of them had stepped in front of another to save them from a blow. That wasn't going to work today. They didn't know if it was solely pain that was being transferred yet. If wounds could also be shared between them, they were going to have bigger problems than the Lionel.

“He's right,” Time barked. “Keep your guard up and stay out of each other's way. We don't need any friendly fire or hits taken for each other. Understood?”

Everyone nodded and the Lynel charged. It went straight for Sky, perhaps the billowing of his cloak caught its attention. The young knight stood his ground, Master Sword held firmly in his grasp ready to strike. He glanced quickly left and right to make sure no one was nearby, then tried to remember the move Wild had shown him.

Sky waited until the Lynel was only a few feet away before stepping to the side and swinging his sword diagonally. He slashed the Lionel across its chest, leaving a deep gash in the flesh. It skidded to a halt a few meters behind Sky, letting out a furious roar which scattered a nearby flock of birds.

Unfortunately, the Lynel turned and swung its arm straight into Twilight, who had been trying to sneak up on it. The beast's forearm hit Twilight across the chest, sending a ripple across the group. Four and Hyrule both staggered backwards, while Wind was almost knocked off his feet.

“Argh, sorry!” Twilight grunted, but the others weren't listening.

The pain receded quickly and Wild prepared to line up a shot on the Lynel.

“Watch out, it's…!” Wars began to shout.

An instant later the Lynel opened its fanged jaws and let forth a bout of flame. The boys scattered, rolling or dodging out of the way to avoid being singed.

“Ahh!” Legend cried.

“Lege!” Hyrule winced through gritted teeth as he bit back Legend's pain.

“I'm alright. Just my leg,” Legend replied, quickly glancing at the fresh burn across his right leg.

“Yeah, we know,” Sky grunted.

“Wild, can you take a shot?” Time barked.

“Not at this close range. It moves too fast. I'm gonna get some distance, can you guys draw it to me?” Wild asked, already turning and sprinting off through the trees.

“I guess we'll have to try,” Time huffed under his breath. “Boys, draw the beast to Wild!”

The others nodded in understanding and hurried to help however they could. With one painfully burned leg each, they struggled to maneuver. Legend got the Lynel’s attention by blasting it once with his fire rod.

“Hey, over here!” Twilight bellowed, launching his boomerang at the beast.

The gale boomerang struck the monster in the back of the head, driving it into a tree with a blast of wind for good measure.

“No!” Wind shouted from the opposite direction. “Here!”

He let off a piercing whistle which cut through the air. The Lynel snapped its head around to stare at the young sailor. It narrowed its eyes and pawed a hoof at the ground. Huffing loudly through its nose.

“Sailor, run, now!” Warriors ordered calmly.

Wind had time to glance once at Warriors, and back at the Lynel before it lowered its torso and charged. Wind turned on the spot and sprinted full pelt after Wild.

“Catch me if you can, you bastard!” Wild shrieked over his shoulder

Before Time or Warriors could shout ‘language’, Wind was off. Brambles and branches snatched at his heels and his clothes, but Wind shook them off. He could feel the Lynel’s hoof-beats rumbling through the ground behind him. He couldn't slow down or he was going to die.

“Hylia please let Wild be out here somewhere!” Wind uttered, grunting as he fought his body to keep on running.

As though in answer to his prayer, Wind saw a hint of blue among the trees up ahead. He grinned when the visage of his brother came into view, standing in the middle of the path directly in front of him. Wind knew what he had to do, and he trusted Wild not to kill him in the process.

“You wanted him, now you got him!” Wind cheered at Wild, who answered his call with a smug little smirk.

Just as Wind was within a few meters of Wild and his outstretched sword, Wind dropped. He skidded forwards on his knees and slid on the damp grass right past Wild. Overhead, Wind heard Wild shift his stance ever so slightly as the Lynel thundered towards them.

Wild waited. And waited some more. He waited until the Lynel was mere feet away. Until he could smell the sweat on its flanks, and the brimstone on its breath. The Lynel swung its blade. Wild launched himself into the air. The forest spun in a blur. He was vaguely aware of the blue smudge of Wind somewhere nearby, but he had to keep his attention focused on his enemy.

The blade in Wild's hand moved as an extension of his arm. The Lynel lifted its head to roar at just the right moment. Wild smiled in the fraction of a second it took him to slice his blade across the monster’s artery.

***

“You're in pain Rulie, it's fine honestly. Don't strain yourself.” Legend insisted.

Hyrule gave him a deadpan look, his hands glowing and glittering with healing magic.

“Legend, I'm in pain because your leg is burnt, you idiot. If I don't heal you we'll all feel it for hours. Not to mention your wound could get infected.” Hyrule insisted, as he pushed Legend back down to the ground, a little more forcefully this time.

“Please just let him heal you, Lege. I don't know about the rest of you, but between the hit Twilight took and Legend's burned leg, I'm not feeling too good.” Four grumbled.

He was still rubbing his chest and sitting in an ungainly pose on the ground. Twilight could have sworn the smithy’s eyes flashed with a hint of ruby red for a moment. The pain in his own leg was akin to more of an annoying itch, but clearly it was having a stronger effect on the others.

At that moment Wind and Wild pushed through the brush nearby and rejoined the grouo. The tired and withdrawn expression on the Sailor’s face drove away the last of Legend's resistance. He let out a long drawn out sigh before he stopped trying to get up. Legend nodded once at Hyrule, then crossed his arms and waited.

While Hyrule set about fixing his predecessor's leg, Time gave Wind and Wild a look over. His gaze fixed on the scuffed knees of their youngest hero.

After digging around in his bag, Time pulled out two potions. He offered one to Wind who only grumbled briefly before taking it and sipping at the crimson potion. Time offered the other bottle to Twilight. Ordinarily Twi wouldn't waste one of their potions on something so trivial as a punch to the chest. However, given that it wasn't only his own pain he needed to heal, Twilight assented.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” Warriors sighed.

***

“Okay, I think we've found a counter spell,” Legend announced over dinner that evening.

He and Four had been scouring each other's spell books for over an hour. At last they happened upon a spell which seemed to meet their requirements.

“It's a fairly simple counter spell, but it has an element of a separation spell too,” Four added.

“Any side effects?” Time asked, pausing as he lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips.

“It's not a very helpful spellbook. It's pretty old and I can only decipher the most important parts,” Four admitted.

Legend nodded and decided to ignore the flash of violet in his brother's eyes. He'd been surprisingly focused during their search, almost gleeful to get his nose stuck in a pile of books. Four was often found reading of an evening, but this task seemed to have awoken the true bookworm in him.

“I say we put it to a vote. It's likely the spell will wear off eventually, but with our luck we could sustain another serious injury before then. All those in favor of trying the counter spell, raise a hand.” Warriors decided, already holding up his own hand as he looked around at the others.

In quick succession the rest of the Chain raised their hands, some holding spoons, into the air. Twilight and Time were the only two to hesitate. They shared a gaze and Twilight shrugged. After that they both lifted their hands and Time nodded to the Captain.

“Alright, we'll give it a try. Is there anything you need for the spell Legend?” Time asked.

“Um, I'm gonna need a hair from each of you tied into a knot,” Legend replied, squinting at the book for confirmation. “Hyrule, I might need your help too. In case my magic reserves aren't enough to cast it.”

“You can count on me,” Hyrule nodded.

With a fistful of hairs in various shades of blond, Legend and Hyrule stood beside the campfire. Legend held the spell book in his other hand and practiced the spell for the fiftieth time that evening. Hyrule's hand lay gently on Legend's shoulder, the comforting warmth of his hand emanating through his clothes. Hyrule was always warm.

“Okay, I'm ready,” Legend said quietly, drawing the attention of the rest of the group gathered around the fire.

The boys sitting in the flickering light of the fire drew in a collective breath. Legend began to read aloud from the ancient script of the spell book. Although no one understood the language, Legend spoke as though it were his second tongue. Perhaps all that practice had paid off.

As the spell came to an end, Legend's fist holding the hairs began to glow. His knuckles grew white and Time noticed Hyrule bracing himself behind his predecessor. This was clearly taking a lot out of their vet, and he hoped it wouldn't cause him any problems afterwards.

Speaking the final word, Legend opened his fist and let the hairs fall into the fire. The rest of the boys watched with bated breath, as the little strands of gold and bronze drifted down and disappeared.

Legend breathed a long sigh of relief and snapped the spellbook shut. The moment he did so he began to stumble backwards. Hyrule seemed ready for this however, and caught his brother easily in his arms.

“You okay Lege?” He asked softly.

“I'm good, just real tired,” he huffed breathlessly, his face a little paler than usual.

While Hyrule helped Legend to stumble over to his bedroll, the others stared around at each other.

“Did it work?” Asked Sky.

“How do we tell?” Warriors questioned.

“I could cut my self real quick?” Wild suggested.

“No!” Time and Twilight barked in unison.

Wild shrank back, his previously confident smile fading in an instant.

“No one's going to hurt themselves on purpose,” Time insisted.

“So what, are we just going to wait until someone does get injured and see if we feel something?” Asked Four, sounding irked. “That's not very scientific.”

“Scien-what?” Sky mumbled, looking confused.

“Don't worry feathers, it's a future thing!” Wild chuckled. “Come guys I really don't mind. Besides, if Rulie is feeling okay he can heal me right away anyhow.”

Wild stared around at the others as Hyrule returned from tucking Legend into his blankets. The spell had almost drained the veteran and within a few moments of laying down in his warm bedroll he had drifted off to sleep.

“How's Lege?” Asked Warriors, nodding to the small lump beneath the blankets.

“Sleeping, that spell used up most of his magic. A good night's rest and a potion in the morning and he'll be right as rain.”

“What do you think, Rulie?” Wild cut in. “Wanna test whether the spell worked with me?”

“You want to hurt yourself don't you?” Hyrule sighed.

“Let me get this straight for you. I don't want to hurt myself, I want to help everyone else!” Wild insisted.

While Wild was trying to explain himself and Time and Twilight continued to insist that this was not going to happen, Wind and Four happened to catch each other's eye.

“You thinking what I'm thinking?” Four whispered.

Wind nodded. Four gave the sailor a knowing smirk as the pair of them shook out their left hands.

SLAP

All eyes snapped around to see the two smallest heroes rubbing their cheeks.

“What the hell are you two playing at?” Time bulked, staring at the two boys with disbelief.

“What?!” Four exclaimed, nursing the steadily growing red mark upon his face. “We needed to test the spell, but we didn't need a serious injury to do it.”

“The real question is did anyone else feel it?” Wind pointed out.

“I'm guessing since we're the only ones rubbing our faces that the answer is obvious,” Four remarked.

He gazed around with violet eyes, searching for any hint of pain or discomfort from the others.

“I didn't feel anything,” said Wars.

“Me neither,” added Sky.

“It seems the spell worked then,” Time sighed. “Well, I'll have to congratulate Legend when he wakes up. And well done to you too Four for finding the right spell.”

“I'm just glad it's over.”

“Maybe we can learn something from it though.” Warriors mused. “We have become a bit too reliant on potions and Hyrule's healing abilities. I for one know I've let my guard forms slip, perhaps I should come up with a training regimen for everyone?”

With an enthusiastic smile plastered to his face, Warriors looked up to gauge the Chain's reaction to his suggestion. Not one face was smiling back at him. In fact, Four and Wild looked about ready to murder him.

“Alright Captain,” Time said coolly. “Let's start with how to defend against a horde of enemies. While you're unarmed!”

Without a seconds warning, Time lunged for Warriors. His larger frame pinned the younger hero to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. While some of the others began to roar with laughter, others got the idea. Wild was the first to join in, leaping with joy as he piled on top of Warriors. Adding to his discomfort by tickling his stomach where his shirt had ridden up.

“Oh please no!” Wars screeched, in a high pitch voice none of them had ever heard before.

As more of the boys moved to help Warriors with his training, Twilight hung back. He clutched his stomach as he roared with laughter. Managing to disguise the gentle rub of his stinging cheek as he leaned on his hand.

[throneofsapphics]

murder in her eyes

Nyx x f!Reader

Summary: Determined to claw your way out of your home camp, you decide it’s time to learn to wield the Illyrian bow, and your best friend won't let you learn alone. 

Word Count: 6501

Warnings: canon typical themes, sexism, violence, injury 

A/N: this is pretty much all inspired by one line from acofs that I think about too much.

“I’m jealous of you sometimes,” she admitted to Nyx. They were gathered on the outskirts of the village where he’d been sent to train. She kicked her feet out in front of her. The bark of the log she sat on cut through her thin summer pants, pressing into her skin. Instead of being painful or itching, it felt comforting and reminded her she’s still alive. 

“Why?” He cut a glance to her from where he was sharpening one of his knives. 

“You get to leave.” The absolute truth. She was stuck in this damn village likely for the rest of her life, unless she somehow managed to escape or marry into another. “And I’m just -,” you waved a hand, hoping that would get the rest of your point across. It did. 

“You’re allowed to leave at any time.” He recited, but she could tell he didn’t really believe it. There’s no official laws forbidding her from leaving. In fact, there’s one against it - written on paper by his father, but actually writing a law and enacting it are two very different things. At least she can’t be officially punished for trying to leave.  

“You know it’s not that easy.” Her last attempt hadn’t worked. Despite her friendship with Nyx, probably in spite of it, they dragged her ass back here. No matter how fast she flew, they were faster. They caught her, dragged her back and told her if she tried again they’d break her wings and make it look like an accident. One day, when she was fast and strong enough she’d get the hell out of here. But until then …

“I thought you liked it here.” Gods, she loved it. Illyria was beautiful despite its cruelty and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, but it became suffocating and all consuming especially as she grew older. Besides, it was all that she’d known, there was nowhere for her to compare it to. Unfortunately, with each year, the expectations to marry became stronger. Even though they let her train, they ridiculed her at every turn. Her father said it would make it almost impossible to marry her off, and frequently encouraged her to quit. Little did he know, saying it would make her undesirable for marriage was prime fuel for her to keep going. She refused to quit and accept her natural place, to let her ‘natural place’ be below, subservient, predestined. She’d seen and even spoken to Emerie, she knew who she could become if she truly pushed herself. Long ago she’d decided she’d work and work until she was never weak again. 

“I’m thinking about taking up the bow.” She switched topics quickly. If she tells him, and they find out … she knows they’ll make good on their promise. 

-

Rhys overheard a single sentence of conversation between his son and his friend. He’d been curious about the friendship at first, and maybe a bit wary but she hadn’t done anything outrageous, in fact she’s one of the few females who continued to train despite all of the leers and ridicule she faced. 

“I’m thinking about taking up the bow.” 

Many males couldn’t muster up the strength to take up the bow. Still, the line triggered something in his memory, something he told himself over a decade ago, during a visit to Windhaven. ‘If one of the girls decided to take up the Illyrian bow, I’d oversee her lessons myself,’ and stepped out of the shadows as if compelled. 

“I’ll oversee your lessons myself,” he pressed his back against a branch and tucked his hands into his pockets. The female jumped, her eyes wide. Nyx glared at him, pissed off that he was eavesdropping, or probably more upset with himself that he didn’t catch him. He didn’t particularly care too much, and his mouth quirked up at the corners. “Nyx can accompany you for lessons once a week, in Velaris.” 

The words came naturally, and he wondered if this was a plan written out by the mother decades or centuries before the two in front of them were born. Perhaps, and as much as his son’s potential love life intrigued him he had more urgent court business to attend to. Anyway, Nyx definitely wouldn’t appreciate his hovering or interfering, so he did his best to take a step back. His best wasn’t great, but it was something. 

“T-thank you, High Lord” she stumbled out and he frowned at the honorific, holding up a hand. 

“Just Rhys,” he gently corrected. She didn’t look completely convinced, but Nyx elbowed her, his eyes glazing over, saying something directly to her. He didn’t pry. Besides, his son had taught her how to keep iron shields locked up around her mind. It’s possible there was something else going on there. Not that Nyx would tell him … maybe he could convince Cassian to get it out of him, he’d always been more willing to speak to him about those kinds of things. He’d said he was ‘not great,’ after all. Rhys shoved the thought to the back of his mind for now, making a mental note to address it later. “Are you going to learn with her?” He asked Nyx. A taunt and a challenge. He’d wondered why it took Nyx so long to ‘agree’ - like he hadn’t just volunteered him - to learn the bow, but perhaps it was a who. 

“Of course.” Nyx glared at him. He could’ve sworn a blush covered his cheeks when he glanced back at her. He’d definitely be asking Cassian. 

-

She bit on her bottom lip, watching Nyx glare at his father. Learning the bow and a chance to leave Windhaven once a week sounded like heaven. Maybe it’s good fortune his father happened to overhear the conversation, even if it’s embarrassing. 

‘Not embarrassing’ she chided herself. There’s nothing embarrassing about wanting to train, wanting to learn to fight. Besides, if she learns to wield the bow - something several Illyrian males never learn to do, maybe that would finally prove her skill and worthiness.

Eyes a bit dreamy, she hid in the shadows, letting the cool embrace her as she watched a male return the Illyrian bow to its hold. Silver, well made, and nearly as tall as her. Heavy, too, based on what she remembered from the time she tried to steal one. That was a mistake. All she’d achieved was getting it stuck in the mud. To cover her scent, she’d spread more mud over it, and just caused rampant confusion in the morning. The males actually training with the bows had hell to pay for her mistake, but they’d always jeered at her for wanting to train so she didn’t find she cared too much. 

-

“Why haven’t you invited her to train with the Valkyries?” Nesta asked Nyx later that week, after his Father  - embarrassingly - announced he’d been learning to wield the bow, with a ‘female friend’ of his, causing a few intrigued looks. 

“It’s not like that,” he’d insisted, aware you'd have his head if you found out he gave any other kind of impression. Still, relaxed as he was around his family he maintained the perfect control taught to him from a young age. 

His uncle Cassian’s eyes lit up in mischief, but he caught Amren, who hated being called Aunt for some reason, sending a glare his way - backed up by Mor. At least the females were on his side. 

“I never thought of it.” His mother raised one eyebrow at him, calling out his bullshit, but didn’t comment. He’d thought of it, but he’s not certain she would want to train away from the village. That part was also bullshit, she’d do anything to get away from there, but if she was training with the Valkyries he’d never see her. Never see his closest friend. Just a friend. Cassian had grilled him about her, fishing for answers - if he liked her in that way. Even though he did, he wouldn’t act on it. She had enough males panting after her and didn’t want her to feel pressured in any way. If her family caught wind of his or her interest they’d either push her to pursue it to the ends of the world or do their best to drive her away from him. The last thing she needed was more pressure on her. 

Their conversation from the other day still lingered in his mind. ‘You know it’s not that easy.’ Had she tried to leave? If so, why wouldn’t she tell him about it? She knows he would help her. 

-

The string dug painfully into her cheek as she pulled it back, her wrist quivering slightly. She shouldn’t be glad Nyx was struggling next to her, but it reassured her. 

“Good.” She heard his father behind them, and they both lowered it. The lesson consisted of how to hold it, and practicing pulling the string back, time and time again. They’d done it for hours, but she wouldn’t complain. Not one word of complaint would leave her lips. She caught a glimpse of Velaris as they landed on a balcony. Nyx had called it the House of Wind. One level below, at a different training courtyard, females were practicing with swords, sparring with each other. Priestesses, most of them, with the blue robes but some others wearing Illyrian leathers. The Valkyries. She caught a glimpse of Emerie. She wondered if the female knew how idolized she was by a select few females. 

She’d heard of them in passing, mostly with sneers and snarky remarks but she thought it was admirable. A female from her village, Emerie, had helped found them, and was one of the original three Valkyries, a year or two before she was born. She wondered if she had to be a priestess to become a Valkyrie. Holy vows might be a bit beyond her. She refocused on the lesson, thankfully and sadly at an end. Nyx winnowed her back to Windhaven but had to leave quickly for some high-lord-in-training duties, and promised he’d be back the next day. 

Nyx had become the only reason she was staying sane over the last few years, and she thanked the Mother every day for that friendship, and that he’d never pushed or shown any interest beyond that. Of course, there was a tiny bit of attraction on her side but she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their friendship. Not a damn thing, and made sure her friends and family knew it was completely platonic. 

-

They were sitting in their usual spot, tucked out of sight from the village but not too far into the mountains, when he asked her a question she’d been dreading. “Have you tried to leave before?” 

She couldn’t lie to him, he always knew when. “Once,” she admitted and pointedly ignored the gaze branding into her side. 

“And you came back?” 

Not willingly, but she did. “Obviously,” her heart beat faster, her palms sweating slightly, and she prayed he wouldn’t ask if she did willingly. She didn’t want to lie to him, and didn’t want to answer. 

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively soft and mild, but she looked at him and saw anger dancing in his eyes. He’d read right through her. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, fixing her gaze firmly on the sunset lowering over the mountains, the sun perfectly aligned between two peaks. 

“It does.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him reach out towards her, but seemed to think better of it and withdrew his hand. She wished he wouldn’t have and cursed herself for wishing that. “I’ll find out.” He added when she didn’t reply. 

That caught her attention, and she snapped her head to him. “Don’t go digging into it.” Her voice was desperate, her nails digging into her thighs. “Please.” 

Nyx swallowed harshly, and frowned at her. “If someone hurt you, I want to know.” 

“It’ll make things worse.” 

His mouth parted slightly, ready to protest, but closed again. The way he looked at her made her feel like he had access to her innermost thoughts, could read right through her and see every little thing she was thinking. But - he wasn’t in her mind, he’d taught her to protect it and she would know if he was. The pause before his reply was only seconds, but it seemed to stretch on for eternity. 

“Alright.” A muscle in his jaw flecked. Her eyes darted to where his fists clenched. He wasn’t happy about it, but he could deal with it. She didn’t need a male savior anyway, she just needed her best friend. 

-

She hadn’t denied that someone hurt her, and he promised he wouldn’t go digging into it. But - he didn’t say anything about others. There’s several people he could ask to look into what happened after she tried to leave, but that felt like a betrayal of her trust. Still, a protective instinct in him flared, wanting to eliminate any threat to his … his friend. Nyx felt lost. He’d always known what to do next, where to find a solution, or how to help but she said it would ‘make things worse.’ If he told his parents, Cassian, or Azriel they’d probably go combing through the village to figure out what happened and she would suffer the consequences from that, whatever they might be. There’s one person he could ask … someone who had been in a similar situation. 

“Can you keep it from my parents and everyone else?” He asked cautiously. Mor raised a brow, but nodded. 

“Is it about your … friend?” Her red-stained lips curved into a smirk. Everyone knows about her, by now. The entire lot of them are complete busy bodies. 

“Yes.” He sighed, and her eyes lit up, “but not what you’re thinking.” 

She motioned for him to continue, and everything he knew about the situation - not much at all - spilled out. He saw anger flare in her eyes once, but for the most part she remained calm, listening carefully to each word. “What do I do?” He finally asked. 

Mor paused for a few moments, tilting her head. “Follow her wishes.” Gods that’s the last thing he wanted to hear. Apparently she could tell because she snorted. “Offer to help her, when she’s ready. Make sure she knows you will.” 

He could do that, he could wait until she’s ready to leave. The Mother only knew he’d wait a ridiculous amount of time for her, do ridiculous things to ensure her safety and happiness, just like she’d do the same for him. 

-

The lessons, in Velaris, started becoming her favorite part of each week. Every Friday, around dawn, she’d wait anxiously at the edge of camp for Nyx to come. Velaris was too far to fly in a day, reasonably, so she had to rely on him to make it on time. The one and only time he’d been late, they both paid the price for it and as soon as they got back to Windhaven, she berated him and told him if he did it again she’d cut his favorite part off. That seemed to get through to him because he was never late again. 

In the spare time she could find, she would practice. They couldn’t refuse her using one of the many bows set aside for training, not since they were trying to stay on the High Lord’s good side. In all honesty, both her and Nyx were absolutely terrible in the beginning, but slowly improved over the weeks. Painfully slowly. His father had reassured them it took years for him to master it. A few times, other members of the inner circle had appeared and mostly grilled her with questions as Nyx glowered at them. How her training is going in Illyria, her family, what she thinks of Windhaven, her favorite food, they were endless. She answered all of them very carefully, dodging around anything negative that could get back to them.  

She desperately wanted to see the rest of Velaris, and when she thought nobody was looking she’d take the time to peer out over the city. A river cut through it, and the entire place seemed vibrant with life - even though she couldn’t see any details very well. She never went beyond the House of Wind. Maybe when she finally left she could come live in Velaris. There had been brief whispers of the city, but several still believed it to be a myth. Residency there was by application or invitation only, and she didn’t know of a single Illyrian living permanently in the city. Perhaps she could be the first. 

She heard footsteps approaching her - heavy for Fae, and recognized the scent. Her father. Her entire body tensed as he appeared, stopping a few feet in front of her and looking at her with distaste. She’s used to that by now, the looks didn’t bother her, but the fact that he’s here now does. She hadn’t told him exactly where she goes, and he hadn’t bothered to ask. Still, he probably heard through rumors what she’s been doing. 

“What do you want,” She bit back a sigh, trying not to sound too disrespectful, adding “sir?” to the end for good measure. 

“You need to stop.” 

“Stop what?” Her voice grew sharper, attention now caught. 

“Going wherever you do, practicing with a bow.” 

She forced her breathing to stay steady, and tamped down some of the rage. “You can’t make me.” She didn’t bother asking why, the answer would be as useless as it was obvious. Female. 

“Accidents happen.” 

“Accidents are noticed.” She said through gritted teeth. 

“You can’t practice with a broken wing.” 

Her eyes shuddered closed. He would really do it, and she knew that. What could she do to stop him if he actually put his mind to it? Running away hadn’t worked, but this is one thing she finally had for herself, and was very reluctant to give it up. 

“It’s not my fault you were never good enough to master the Illyrian bow,” that was not what she intended to leave her mouth, especially not at full attitude. Not at all. Fuck.

His nostrils flared, eyes widened, and a crack as the back of his hand slammed across her face, her lip catching on her canine, tearing. She showed no reaction. She knew better. More blows rained, her wing twisted, she bit her lip to hide a scream. 

Maybe she was already stronger than him, but she wouldn’t know that strength as the child inside of her rose to the front, the old habits of learning to be small, to make herself palatable, to minimize the damage, reared.

By the time she broke free of the child-like mold paralyzing her, it was too late to fight back, she’d already been tossed out into the snow, door slamming behind her. 

It was Friday. She would be late. He chose his dates well. Her body was in horrible shape, she knew that, but the fear of disappointing her instructors kept her going. One foot in front of the other, wings lopsided with her left one barely hovering above the ground, body swaying back and forth with each step, vision blurring in and out of focus. 

Specks of blood sprinkled her footsteps, leaking down to decorate her clothing as well. Maybe they’d be late too, and she’d have time to make herself palatable. 

“She’s never late -” She heard Nyx - he was speaking loudly. 

“Oh you’ll have fun today,” Mor was picking them up this time. 

She knew when Nyx sensed her presence, felt the shift in the world as she passed between the two trees into the clearing, her companions a few hundred feet away. 

The sight of Nyx, of her best friend, made her feel like she could be whole again. 

“Sssorry,” the word slurred over her puffy lip, “I’m late.” 

They winnowed to her side and caught her just before she collapsed. 

-

“See what they did to her,” Nyx screamed to the room, Cassian’s arms still wrapped around his chest. 

His father’s rough hands brushed against his cheeks. 

“I see,” his voice was deadly and calm. Nyx didn’t care for calm right now. Not with her in the next room, looking so broken. He was ready to fly into a rage beyond anything reason could fathom. 

Catching the curt nod from his father, the panicked look in his eyes, Cassian’s arms released him and his father barely stepped in in time to grab him before he winnowed himself. 

A distant mountain range. Far from where he could hurt a soul. 

That was the problem, he needed to cause pain. Someone needed to pay. 

“If you kill them now, what will it solve?” His father asked. 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. 

“Who’s revenge is it?” His fathers voice had dropped, but the intensity grew. “Would you take that from her?” Nobody knew her like Nyx did. Death, pain in equal or greater suffering, not just for herself but to save the next female. “For each male like that to die, another takes his place.” 

Why was he still. Fucking. Speaking. 

“And you haven’t managed to solve that,” Nyx said flatly, knowing the words would hit - would find their mark. He sensed the wince. He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilt now, that was for later. “What would you do if it was my mother lying in the other room?” Was he giving away too much? He’d kept the secret for so long it didn’t matter to him now. It seemed stupid, in hindsight, waiting for you to realize. “What would you do if it was your mate bleeding and broken?” 

“Hope someone would keep me from doing something she’d be pissed at,” he responded, a touch of shock to his voice. For some reason, that pissed Nyx off more than before. 

“Yes, I have a mate,” he enunciated each word so clearly it felt like he was spitting them. “And this place,” he waved a hand at the mountain ranges beyond in the vague direction of her home, “is killing her, day by day and i’m fucking helpless.” His knees hit the icy earth, pushing through the snow. The ground rumbled beneath him. “I can’t help my mate,” he whispered. A mountain top cracked somewhere in the distance. Birds flew. Wind howled. 

He repeated the words, screamed them with none but his father and the blossoming warmth in his chest as a witness. 

-

“By the mother, wake up,” Nyx half pleaded, half ordered. 

“I’m awake,” she countered. Again. How many different versions of this one conversation did they need to have? 

“I want my best friend back.” Yes, you’d been a little moody but its not like you disappeared to the ether lands. You were just … contemplative. There was a lot to think about. 

“She’s right fucking here,” she tried to add a bit of a sing-song lilt to her voice, but instead it cracked. Like a young male’s would. 

Pursing her lips together, she finally glanced at him, the laugh threatening to burst out of her chest. 

The amusement and tip of an insult in his eyes brought it out. 

Several minutes later, and slow breaths later, she’d calmed and her ribs slowed from a sharp pain to a dull ache. She didn’t dare express any kind of pain or discomfort to her mother hen, gods only know he’s enough of one now. 

“I should go back soon,” she said, without a whole lot of intention. 

“You’re not going back,” Nyx hissed. Oh. He caught her attention, and not in a good way. The sheepish expression on his face meant he knew it too. “Sorry,” he murmured, “instincts.” 

Instincts? Nyx had never used that excuse with her before. Well, perhaps it was a reason rather than an excuse. If he was in this bed … she didn’t want to think of the rage and damage she’d induce on his behalf. Of how much destruction she’d leave in the wake of her pain. If anyone dared hurt Nyx. Well, there were others that might get to the culprits first but she wasn’t too proud to beg for scraps. 

A gentle poke to her shoulder drew her from her swirling thoughts. “Hm?” 

“Where’d you go?” Nyx played with a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her cheeks heated but he had the good grace to ignore that. There’s a lot they’d been ignoring recently.

Still, his question. There was no point in lying to Nyx, he’d always find out. “I was thinking of what I would do if I was in your place.” 

A too long pause before he replied, “and what would that be?” 

“I’d want to kill half of the world from spite,” she said with a grin, but meant each word. 

“Are you disappointed I didn’t?” He sounded oddly insecure. 

She snorted, “absolutely not. You know I can … can handle myself.” 

That last part felt like a lie. 

“I know you can,” he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, the movement so gentle yet connected. “I’m here to talk about it when you’re ready.” 

Not a command, not an order, just a pure statement of fact. She wished, in that moment and many others, that there was a chance of something for Nyx and her. It would make so much fucking sense, but it never quite worked out, and he’d shown zero sign wishing to pursue of feelings for her beyond friendly, even if they might exist.

It was enough to be his best friend, and she’d stick by that for the rest of her days if she had to. 

“You keep drifting off,” she heard the frown in his voice. 

“I am recovering,” she drawled. 

“And you keep trying to get out of bed.”

“Only because I shall go insane if I'm in this room much longer.” 

‘It’s been three days.” 

She missed the easy banter between the two of them. It meant everything to her to regain this small bit of normalcy. Nyx’s friendship meant everything to her, she refused to compromise it. It would take the cauldron itself, the Mother herself, and more to get her to so much as risk that. 

“I don’t understand how you’re so calm about this,” Nyx murmured, dragging his chair closer to her, winding their fingers together. He’d never done that before. Best friends, yes, but he’d never breached the barrier of physical intimacy, even platonic - the two of them always scared what it might be interpreted as. That could go unsaid. But now … she wasn’t in Illyria and perhaps he needed the reminder that she was warm and alive and breathing and here. 

“I’m not,” she squeezed his hand. “But I could give the females in theaters a run for their money,” a weak smile accompanied the statement. 

“Sure,” he laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the center of her forehead, his lips lingering for a second. Her entire body tensed. His eyes bugged, he released her hand just as the door swung open. 

Madja, right in perfect or horrible timing. 

-

“You’ve never been to the theater,” Nyx said blandly, remembering her earlier comment.

She looked down at her hands, small scars general from life in Illyria flickering them. “I’ve read about them,” her voice was quiet, and he felt like an asshole. 

Read about them.  Nyx had taught her how to read, so many years ago, because she hadn’t read his favorite book and he desperately wanted to be her friend but in his mind it was impossible for the two of them to be friends if she hadn’t read it, hence reading lessons. She’d threatened him enough to earn a prison sentence during it, but obviously both the teaching and friendship worked. Beautifully, in his opinion. 

“I’ll take you,” he said a tad late, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“In Velaris?” Her eyes lit up, shoulders pushed back but chest forward, leaning towards him. 

“In Velaris,” he promised, and got the sense that … It was crucial, somehow, that he showed her his city. He hadn’t gotten the chance yet, after all. 

She looked ready to jump up and cheer, so much so that he stepped closer, ready to help support her if needed. 

“I’ve always wanted -” her mouth snapped shut. He looked back at the door. Nobody. 

“Always wanted what?” Nyx pushed. 

A few moments pause. “To see the city,” she finally said quietly. 

He felt like an ass for not taking her to see it sooner. 

“Then you better rest up,” he winked at her. “I’ll be your guide.” 

With that, he had to leave. It was the most beautiful misery to be around you without you aware of the bond. For all of his bravado on the mountain, he still hadn’t the courage to tell you. One of these days, he’d find it. Nyx just hoped it wasn’t too late when he did. 

-

She frowned at his back. Leaving after a promise like that. Well, she supposed to him it might not be quite as world changing and ground shaking, but to her it seemed like everything in that moment, and maybe even something that ought to be celebrated. Or, the injuries still rattled her brain and she wasn’t thinking clearly. 

Nyx was good for his promises. That was a fact. He’d never broken a single one to her, and she’d never broken a single one to him. Hopefully, it stayed that way. 

Three thuds on the door, citrus and cinnamon flickering through the door - a scent she vaguely recognized. 

“May I come in?” A muffled voice sounded. It was a ridiculously thick oak wood door from what she could tell. She called her agreement, and the Morrigan - Mor - she mentally corrected herself, strode through the door, beaming. 

She was gorgeous, warm brown eyes and blonde hair, ruby red lips, and an effortless grace and confidence she wished she could channel sometimes. 

‘A free female,’ she thought. ‘That’s what a free female looks like.’ 

“How are you doing?” Mor asked, and she could hear the sincerity in her tone.

“The injuries aren’t healing as quickly as I’d like,” she admitted. “And I’m sick of this bed.” 

“I’m afraid if Madja orders bedrest, you’re quite stuck,” Mor shot her a sympathetic grin, like she’d been in that place before. Probably had. “As glad as I am to hear you’re healing, we have more unpleasant things to talk about,” her voice dropped just a tad, a sternness entering that made her back subconsciously straighten, “like what’s going to happen next.” 

She’d mentally prepped herself for this. The return to Illyria. She nodded, more to herself. 

A warm hand covered her own, squeezing lightly. 

“We won’t make you return there, not if you don’t want to.” 

Her heart dropped to her stomach, mouth parting, eyes widened, heart racing. 

The corner of Mor’s lips curled into a tentative smile, “we haven’t told Nyx about offering you a place here, although I suspect he would want to do it on his own. It’s important to - to me - that you get to make this choice of your own accord, with minimal influences.” 

In other words, she wanted her to have a true choice, for once. 

“I’m not ready to go back,” she admitted. “Does that make me -” 

“No,” Mor squeezed her hand again, refusing to let the words be spoken into the world. “If anything, it makes you brave to start over somewhere new.” 

At this very moment, she didn’t feel brave, but she supposed that could come with time. 

“We’ll make preparations to get you settled,” Mor started speaking and she did her best to pay attention, really did, but the healing tonic had a sedative effect and a yawn slipped. She laughed softly, “I’ll come back another time.” Mor stood, brushing down her pants. “For what it's worth,” she started slowly, as if uncertain. “I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay for now.”

“So am I,” she grinned. It took until she was drifting off to sleep for her to realize it had been implied she was staying in Velaris, that they’d assumed she would want to make this city her home. Maybe to another it would’ve been an insult, but it warmed her heart that they wanted her here. She felt quite special. 

-

Time passed, and she healed, in more ways than one. 

With some encouragement from Lady - no, just Nesta, she saw one of the priestesses from the library. That, she believed, really made the difference to her. Someone to listen without judgment, trying to fix things, or push themselves into her situation. She loved Nyx, as a friend of course, truly did, but he always tried to fix things for her and there were some things that were better left broken for a while. Not everything could be fixed, and she learned to accept her peace with that. She’d never have a relationship with her father, for one. Not that she was missing out on much. In her eyes, he’d grown irredeemable. Maybe that was the hardest lesson she’d learned. 

Lifting her pen from the paper, sticking it back into the ink pot, she blew lightly to dry the ink. Transcribing for the priestesses was slow, but she’d insisted she have some kind of work, and turns out she had a knack for deciphering nearly illegible handwriting. 

“How do you read that?” Nyx asked. She was thankful she’d already put the pen away, otherwise there might have been ink thrown all of her hard work. 

“I’m used to reading your notes,” she retorted. 

It was another book, you bit back your squeal of delight. You’d nearly begged him to bring another after you’d finished the first. It was slow progress, considering you were technically still learning how to read, but he’d chosen books that just worked. 

Each one had a series of notes, tucked in between pages at parts Nyx thought were particularly important, and thought it was highly important you hear his opinion on those parts. 

He snorted. “My handwriting is elegant.” 

“Glorified chicken scrawl.” 

He made a sound of mock offense, she bit down on her lip to hide a laugh, ducking her head. The sound of his laughter pealing through the air brought hers out. 

“Are you ready?” He asked when they’d both calmed somewhat. 

“I’m not finished.” It was a half-truth. She could be finished, but she didn’t want to be. 

“You’re working too much,” he complained. 

“I’m earning my keep.” 

“You’ve done enough for the day,” Nyx insisted, sliding the book further away from her. 

She sighed and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He looked so earnest, and she hadn’t actually seen that much of him recently. Just his presence made something warm bloom in her chest, like always. Nyx had always been her warmth. A warmth he showed to a select few, but receiving it felt like the most precious gift and she found herself with an inexplicable chill of sorts without him nearby, like an itch she could never scratch. A subconscious smile crept onto her face, and she started packing her things. Only because it’s him, she told herself. She was lucky to have him as her best friend, she wouldn’t trade the friendship for anything. 

-

Three days later, the theater was back in season and she was aching to go. Mor - mother above it was still a little strange to call her that - took her once last season and she absolutely adored it. The costumes, the actresses and actors, the talent, the music, even the way they painted their faces for the crowds. Every bit of it made her heart feel full in a way she hadn’t realized was possible. 

But tonight, the first night of the season, when the stage should have her full attention she was stuck on the male next to her. Beautiful in his well fitting dark suit, stitched with gold and violet accents that brought out the varying shades in his eyes. 

Beautiful. She’d just called her best friend beautiful. Well, she supposed it was the truth. Nyx was one of the most beautiful, she was getting sick of that word, Fae she’d encountered. It didn’t mean she liked him or was attracted to him like that. Friendship. Friendship was good, safe, and she liked safe. Losing him would wreck her and she absolutely couldn’t afford to put her new life in jeopardy, even if her heart craved him, even if lying to herself was destroying her a little each day. 

“This is ridiculous,” Nyx sighed, leaning back in the seat. The two of them had managed to get a box to yourselves for the night. Well, Nyx managed it. His elbow brushed against hers. 

“I thought the play was done quite well,” she murmured. They were approaching the closing scenes now, she could tell at this point. 

“Not that,” he reached over and covered her hand with his own. 

“Wh-,” she started. 

“Watch the play,” he cut her off with a mischievous smile. Grinding her teeth together, she listened for once. 

Watching the play was bullshit. He knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on it, not with how right his skin felt on hers and how his thumb gently brushed back and forth across her knuckles. 

They both stayed until the theater cleared out, Nyx’s shield keeping the workers from coming into their box. 

“Did you ever get your revenge?” 

She knew what he was talking about. “Not the way you expect,” she flipped her palm so she could squeeze his hand. “Revenge doesn’t always have to be ice cold or bloody, sometimes it can mean living your best life and thriving without them.” Nyx paused, like this might be a foreign concept to him. It probably was. “But I’ll get the kind of revenge you’re thinking of when I'm ready. Although, I think hearing whispers of me living here, of my existence being possible outside of their bubble may hurt more.” 

Nyx frowned, “I don’t know about that one.”

She was suddenly aware of just how long they’d been holding hands, and moved to withdraw hers. He clutched on tighter, as if her touch was the only thing grounding her to this world. She stilled. Whatever was happening, it was the beginning of something else, and that terrified and excited her in ways her brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. In ways only he could. 

“Can I get a pass to do something potentially stupid?” Nyx asked. 

“Depends what it is,” she replied automatically. 

“I can’t tell you,” did he sound a touch pained or was she hallucinating? 

“Fine,” she said with mock annoyance, mainly because she was curious and maybe a little hopeful. 

But Nyx wouldn’t - 

A palm brushed against her cheek, and he did.

-

acotar taglist: @yeonalie

[pharawee]

I usually don't do yearly recaps because my memory sucks December is one of the busiest months for me and I'm lucky if I get to gif at all but this year I thought I'd take a look at all of the gifsets I did in 2024 and see which shows, pairings and moments I liked the most.

✨FAV BLS OF 2024

1000 Years Old: 2024 was supposed to be the year of vampire BL (going by all the announcements and pilot trailers) but in the end only this one aired (edit: wait, I forgot about OMG! Vampire to protect myself 🥴) - and it was neither spicy nor particularly spooky. Instead, it was all heart and quirkiness and when it was over I cried for a week because of the bittersweet ending.

Playboyy: This show is truly a masterpiece, with layers of subtext and social commentary. Also, it's fun and camp and sexy and ridiculous. I'm so glad it's going to get a second season.

Caged Again: How come that a little show about a penguin and a panther is legit one of the best - if not THE BEST - Thai BL of the year?

Knock Knock, Boys: I came for Best and Seng and Pak but then Almond and Latte bewitched me body and soul. Kongthup now owns me.

Every You, Every Me: I don't know what I was expecting (well, okay, a whole lot of Mick & Top - which is exactly what I got) but it surely wasn't crying my eyes out for two episodes right in the middle of the show.

Spare Me Your Mercy: Long awaited and currently still airing - I actually love this show a lot because it reminds me of all the detective dramas (esp Endeavour and Grantchester) I used to binge. Morse but make it queer is actually all I ever wanted.

7 Days Before Valentine: This show's depth and artistry and stageplay-like character absolutely blew me away.

I Saw You in My Dream: WeTV absolutely blew it out of the water this year with their many diverse productions, and this unassuming and charming little show with a supernatural twist (love me one of those!) was no exception.

Monster Next Door: Big Thanakorn in his first main role with his first acting partner in an extremely fun and all around lovely Kongthup/WeTV production. And I just love how nuanced it was when they could have just stuck with the whole introvert/extrovert cliché.

✨FAV PAIRINGS OF 2024

Hope x Save (Jack & Joker): These two completely took me by surprise, especially because I had such an intense reaction to Pee Phiravich's character in La Pluie. I had originally set my eyes on PromMark and while I definitely ate up their crumbs, HopeSave just checked all of my boxes: morally grey antagonists (at least for a while there), doomed by the narrative (until they actually got their happy ending, yay!) and ride and die for each other.

Pete x Kenta (Pit Babe): I'll be a PeteKenta truther until the day I die (see all of the checkboxes above), and if Change2561 didn't subscribe to the branded pair model, they'd agree with me. As things are I'm actually kind of meh about Pit Babe 2. I bet KentaKim won't have knives at each other's throats!! (PeteWay is delicious though.)

Prom x Nont (Playboyy): Uhhh, that's a lot of the same checked boxes. So maybe I have a type. Thanks 2024 for making me realise. Also, I hope these two make each other worse in season 2 (before they get their HEA because ultimately I'm vanilla like that).

Latte x Almond (Knock Knock, Boys!): Oh God, these two. I was prepared to be ride or die for Thanwa and Peak but then LatteAlmond barged in with a pink sex toy and it was over for me. They just have so much heart and so much sincerity between them (and while their dynamics are different in Caged Again I'm really enjoying Nokia and Jaonine there too for pretty much the same reason + their incredible comedic timing).

X x Namping (Every Me, Every You): It's probably a good thing we got these two for two episodes only because we might not have survived a whole 8 or 10 or even 12 episodes of them. Plus, the anthology-like character of the series made a sad ending possible in the first place, and I really appreciate it - even if it almost destroyed me.

✨FAV MOMENTS OF 2024

Twins: For a moment there we had FrameRyan and it was beautiful.

The Sign: Chalothorn stole the whole show for me and then when he inexplicably vanished I kind of stopped watching. Whoops.

Deep Night: I have seen the throuple light thanks to SeijiPanKen.

The Rebound: Frank Thanatsaran's acting (but also that scene...) overshadowing pretty much everything else (and now he's with Star Hunter which... you know... ehnnnn 🥲)

To Be Continued: Fluke Pongsapat and Junior Khajbhunditt starring in a way underrated 8-episode netflix show with one of the most beautiful love scenes ever, and I've been wanting more of them ever since.

Two Worlds: Kongthup giveth and Kongthup taketh away (aka for one and a half episodes I had Phupha and Khram and now I will never know peace).

Century of Love: Offroad Kantapon as a sultry fox spirit.

Sunset x Vibes: When Star Hunter remembered Fong and JJ exist and then they stole the whole entire show (there really wasn't much to steal though...).

The Sign: Whatever was going on between Heng Asavarid and Nat Sakdatorn in this scene BUT I NEED MORE (pls Idolfactory I'm begging you release Heng from his solo actor prison).

Two Worlds: Kongthup choosing violence by giving Pak and Mon one of the spiciest love scenes of the year.

The Rebound: THESE TWO (boxes checked!! But also I need more Nammon in my life).

Kidnap: GMMTV's strategic placement of Papang in a suit.

The Hidden Moon: Whenever that tiny low-budget show got surprisingly deep and artsy (and also spicy).

My Stand-In: When I watched a whole show for one (1) character that wasn't really a character at all. Oh, the tragedy of it all (and yes, I'm still scared of Ming).

Pit Babe: When I made several posts about the Pit Babe novel but then I actually ended up loving the villains more than the main characters. I'm watching Pit Babe 2 for them and them only. Winner of my heart here I come!

Aaand that's it, my first ever yearly (Thai) BL recap - which actually ended up way longer than planned (guess my memory isn't as bad as I thought. Then again, I had my gifs to fall back on).

2024 was an amazingly diverse year for Thai QL (along with the wonderful news of marriage equality in Thailand finally becoming a reality) and looking back I now realise (not that I was ever seriously worried) that gmmtv's monopoly is actually way more of a blessing than a curse because not only did it cause WeTV to heavily invest in their own productions, it also leaves more than enough room for innovation and creativity via smaller and indie companies (along with the truly big players finally paying more attention - see: Spare Me Your Mercy). Innovation which in turn enriches gmmtv's portfolio as well (judging by their line-up for 2025 the years to come). In short: the Thai BL ecosystem is truly thriving.

And with that, may 2025 be even queerer than 2024 with tons of marriage proposals and actual marriages (PorschArm here we go!), and a favourite little (or in gmmtv's case not so little lmao) BL niche for everyone.

I hope you had as much fun with BL in 2024 as I had. I really appreciate everyone's commentary posts and meta and fanart and gifsets and tag games and reaction posts, even if I didn't spend as much time on my dashboard this year as I wanted to. I'm so glad tumblr BL fandom exists. ILU guys. Only the bestest and kindest things for you in 2025!🌈✨