#but I'd just turn it off for a time maybe

[visbacktatto]

lazy mornings with vi

you woke up to the soft sunlight entering through the curtains of your shared bedroom, the light gave the room a warm golden glow, the ambience almost as soothing as it was to have vi by your side.

it was one of those rare occasions when your days off aligned, so you had the chance to wake up to your girlfriend clinging to you like a lifeline, her strong arms holding you close, her head resting on your shoulder, one of her legs thrown between yours, her breath warm on your skin.

you mindlessly started tracing her arm that rested on your stomach, following the path up her tattoo before entwining your fingers with hers. the gentle movement got her to stir, instinctually holding your hand and squeezing.

“morning, pretty” she murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep but not any less loving, her hand caressing yours, her lips leaving gentle, featherlight kisses on your neck and shoulder.

you close your eyes, letting out a soft, pleased sigh, “morning, love” you murmur, turning on her embrace to face her, brushing her cheek with your thumb “hi” you smile, not able to contain it when you see her sleepy expression.

vi smiles too, leaning to brush her nose on yours, the cool metal of her nose piercing grazing your warm skin “hi” she replies, pecking your lips, forehead, temple, the tip of your nose, her arms hugging your waist to tug you closer.

“clingy day?” your nearly whisper, your hands going to her pink strands that are smelling exactly like your shampoo today, you notice when you lean to kiss the top of her head, but you wouldn't mention, you know she likes smelling like you.

she just hums in affirmation between kisses on your neck and collarbone, her thumb tracing circles on the skin of your side, “slept well?” she asks.

“yeah, it's always easier when you're home early” you answered, your eyes almost closing at the feeling of her lips and you didn't even think before exposing a little more of your neck for her.

“i know, i swear i'm trying to be done by six everyday” she murmurs, looking up at you, her blue eyes glowing under the gentle sunlight in the room but there was a faint guilt behind them. she's always worried about not giving you enough. attention enough, time enough, love enough.

“i know you're trying” you reassure, cupping her face, she immediately leans into your palm, “and you're succeeding, lately we're even having dinner together, that's progress” you chuckle.

that makes her smile again, she loves your laugh, loves to see your face lightning up so close to hers. “if we could i'd love to spend every day just like this. at home, with you... and maybe a dog”.

to that you smile again, “you want a dog?”

“yeah, maybe” she shrugs, “i'm getting a kitten for powder's birthday, maybe we could get a dog for ourselves too. two birds, one stone.”

you nod, “yeah, maybe” you repeated her words, pulling her a little closer as if that's possible, kissing her shoulder, closing your eyes once again to savour the warmth of her body seeping into yours, her bare chest against you.

she relaxes too, closing her own eyes, but holding you a bit tighter, as if you'd try to move away, as if she wouldn't survive not having you right there with her.

and you mindlessly plant kisses on her shoulder, up to her neck, and finally on her lips, starting a tender kiss that she answers to, you could feel a scar on her upper lip and her hands going to your hips to press you together.

she always kissed like it was the first and last time, one of her hands sliding up your body to find your nape and the back of your hair, angling your lips just enough to make the kiss even better. it's practice. she knows you better than yourself at this point.

and you couldn't help but dig your fingers on her back, almost scratching the tattooed skin, you know she likes it more than she'd ever say out loud.

and when the kiss ends it's gentle, her forehead resting against yours while you catch your breath.

then she leans to peck your lips one last time, her hands leaving your body just to adjust the sheets around you, “one more nap?” she offers, a smile on her lips as much as it was on her eyes.

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.

[smashing-teacups]

Wee Preview: A Breath of Snow and Christmas Chapter 3

A/N: I mean... it's been a hot minute since I'd written a proper sex scene for these two, so I thought maybe I'd ease into it, you know, keep it on the Mature side, not Explicit...

*snort laugh* Yeah, have you met Jamie and Claire? That lasted about fifteen seconds.

Look for this chapter to drop mid-December!

---------

A loud, trilling notification from Claire’s phone made us both startle back with a jolt, each turning in opposite directions to laugh. Cheeks flaming, I wet my lips and scrubbed a hand over my face as she looked down at the message that had broken the moment.

“No Drivers Available,” she read aloud in an irritated monotone. “We’re very sorry, but no drivers were available for your scheduled ride. Please try requesting another car.”

“Ah.”

“Let me try Lyft—” she said at the same moment I offered, “You could just stay here—”

Her eyes snapped up to mine.

Swallowing thickly, I amended, “I can sleep on the couch, of course. I dinna mind at all.”

Something shifted in her irises as I watched. Little by little, the black of her pupils began to bleed outward into pools of molten gold. I could only stare, transfixed, as desire smoldered in her gaze; as my body responded in kind, aching and stretching and throbbing in my cock, searing my lungs until I could scarcely breathe.

“What if I mind?” she whispered as her eyes drifted to the open button on my shirt. Her fingertips lifted to brush the skin bared there, her pinky just skimming the edge of the button beneath. The touch was a question, plain as the one she’d spoken aloud. 

This time, there was no hesitation before I crushed her against me and kissed her mouth open like a man starved.

Every inch of Claire Beauchamp was meant to be worshipped: the long white column of her neck, the down-soft earlobes, the dimple in her chin, the curve of jaw and collarbone and sternum and God, God, her breasts… 

I couldn’t devour her fast enough. 

Whenever I’d fantasized about our first time together, I’d always pictured a slow, deliberate exploration of her body, taking the opportunity to savor every inch of her. Never in my wildest dreams had I pictured her as fevered like this, frantic — scrambling to get my clothes off, gripping the roots of my hair, her tongue dueling hot and urgent with mine. 

Claire didn’t have any interest in me being gentle with her. 

[dsireland86]

Requesting Noah x reader where the reader experiences post partum depression after giving birth to their newborn baby girl.

Post partum depression is no joke and something so many women, including myself, have had to deal with. I wish it on no new mom. But, when you have a good partner who supports you entirely, it makes all the difference🥰

PostPartum

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

I held her in my arms like she was the most valuable thing in the world. To me she was. She was my daughter. She was the best part of me and her mother put together, a treasure created out of pure love.

I looked over at my wife, watching as she delivered the remaining proof of her pregnancy, feeling nothing but pride and respect for her. What I had just witnessed in the last thirteen hours was nothing short of an absolute miracle.

I had no idea how difficult it was for a woman to give birth until now. The strength and resilience I saw in her made me see her and all women in a whole new light. It was an indescribable yet incredible feeling.

She looked up at me, smiling her beautiful yet exhausted smile. She looked completely different now; she was a mother. I grinned back, offering her our daughter and gently laid her on her chest when she said yes.

"Noah, she has your nose and your eyes," my wife gushed, kissing our little girl's rosy forehead.

"She really does, doesn't she?" I marveled, unable to hide my grin. I kissed my wife's forehead, praising her over and over for what she went through for us. I had what I'd always wanted. I had my family.

Days after we came home were a struggle. The nights were sleepless, the days exhausting. The constant feeding and changing diapers was a lot of work I wasn't prepared for. But neither was my wife.

She started crying more than usual. At first, it was simple little tears, but then there were days where those tears lingered all day and sometimes into the night, too. They would lead into spurts of her doubting her ability to be a mother and caring for our baby the way she needed to be cared for.

That's when she would say things like, "Our daughter does better when I'm not around. Maybe it's for the best", or "I just want to disappear. All of this is too much."

I knew she was exhausted, not mentally prepared for any of this, so I did my best to help take the burden off her shoulders, hoping it would help. Sometimes it did, but most of the time I think it only made things worse.

A few weeks went by, and things began to mellow out some; with our daughter at least. We got into a routine and a schedule of sleep, making the nights more bearable.

But my wife would still have her spouts of irritability, sometimes waking up and starting things for no reason. It was usually over little things like dishes or clothes, but then it started to become bigger. She accused me of not being home enough and not helping out enough which would always end with her falling apart and crying again. It broke me.

I didn't know what to do, except hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay, even though I wasn't so sure.

I would watch her during feedings and how she seemed distant from our baby, looking away, never making that mother to baby eye contact I read about in the "What to Expect When Your Wife is Expanding" book Jolly bought me for my first "father's day". She was physically there, but not mentally.

Days after our daughter turned a month old, I came home to find her sitting on the couch in the living room, staring into nothing. She had the most distant spaced out look on her face, her eyes completely void of anything.

"Baby, are you alright?" I gently shook her. She finally snapped out of whatever daze she was in, shaking her head.

"Noah," smiling weakly at me.

"Baby, I'm really worried about you. You're not looking or acting like yourself," I finally admitted to her.

"I feel okay," she said weakly.

"When was the last time you ate?" I brushed some loose hair out of her eyes, running my hand down her cheek.

She thought for a moment then shrugged.

"Come on, I sighed, taking her hand and pulling her towards the kitchen. That's when the baby monitor went off, signaling our little girl was awake.

"Why don't you go get her, and I'll make us something to eat." My wife shook her head.

"No, you get her. She wants her daddy."

Letting go of my hand she made her way into the kitchen, leaving me in a bit of shock. I thought this was the worst of it, but I didn't know how much worse it could get.

Sex was out of the question. Not just for the first six weeks of course, but even past that. She closed herself off to me, not wanting me to touch her or be around her. It got to the point that she was sleeping on the couch and whenever I came into the room she would leave. I didn't understand any of it.

I eventually had to stay home from the studio and recording with the guys, having everyone bring everything to my house because I was too scared to leave her and the baby alone. Something was off with my wife, and I couldn't figure it out. I was taking it personally, thinking that the end of us had come and what was meant to be the happiest time in our lives was now becoming the hardest and most hurtful. I was done. I couldn't go through with it anymore.

One night, after our little one fell asleep after her feeding, my wife laid her in her bassinet then turned to leave the room.

"Don't leave. Please. Just stay with me for a minute," I asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

She turned and looked at me with tears in her eyes.

All the color was gone from her beautiful face, her complexion dull. Her hair, normally shiny and in her wavy ponytail, was unkept, piled high on the top of her head in a messy bun. Her sleep clothes were the same ones she'd worn for almost a week.

This was nothing but a shell of my wife and it killed me seeing her this way.

"Come sit with me, baby, please," patting the bed next to me. At first she hesitated, but then, surprisingly, she came and partially sat on the bed.

I tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling at her when she looked at me so sadly. I leaned in to kiss her, slowly so as to not startle her, and felt relieved when she kissed me back. Her hands found the back of my neck, twisting the longer pieces of hair at the nape of it. Her touch sent shivers down my spine. I was longing for her in ways I didn't even realize.

"I miss you," I confessed, placing my forehead to hers and holding her head between my hands.

"I know," she sniffed and I wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.

"I miss you, too, Noah."

"Then talk to me," I whispered, "tell me what you're feeling. Even if you can't make sense out of it. Just tell me anyway. I'll listen."

And she did.

I ran a hot bubble bath and for the first time in months I held my wife's beautiful naked body against mine, listening as she told me everything she had been going through.

I washed her hair, scrubbed her back, and helped her shave her legs, and in return, she gave me the best sex I'd had in a while.

Watching her face as she came on my cock buried up inside her made me cum, the feeling taking us both to a higher place we hadn't been in a while. It was euphoric.

Once out of the bath and fully dressed, she checked on our little angel still fast asleep, and for the first time since we brought her home, I watched the brightest, sweetest smile grace my wife's face as she looked down on her. It made my heart swell with joy.

We discovered that night, after some slight research that what she was experiencing was called postpartum depression.

It's something most new mother's get, some more extreme than others. We weren't throwing all our eggs into the basket of self diagnosis, but she promised to call her doctor the next morning and schedule an appointment.

Seven months old. Time flies when you're having fun. I watched my wife as she attempted to feed our angel sweet potatoes for the first time. Surprisingly, she liked them. A quarter of the jar later and we had a happy, sleepy little baby.

I cleaned her up and handed her to mama as she willingly and lovingly took her and cradled her just the way she liked it. With some warm milk, a soft blanket, and mama's arms, our little girl was out like a light.

My wife looked up at me, smiling brightly. She was herself again and there was no better feeling than to see her return. With a mild medication and a little therapy, postpartum depression slowly made its way out of our lives, restoring to me the woman I loved.

She apologized, over and over, time and time again, but I always reminded her there was nothing to apologize for. None of it was ever her fault.

"Thank you for sticking it out with me, Noah. Thank you for not running away."

I took her hand and kissed it, rubbing her growing belly carrying baby Davis number two. Now that we knew what to mostly expect, this little gem would be easier to handle.

"For better or for worse, Princess. You've got me and them, forever."

[maddiethedogstories]

Thanksgiving at his Family's House

"Sorry, sweetie! Brandon didn't tell us he was bringing a guest! This is the only chair we have left! I'm just so happy that you're such a tiny little thing, that you fit!" Your boyfriend's mom told you as she slid the tray of the high chair in place.

At least you got to sit next to Brandon, you thought to yourself as you looked at the crowded room filled with the unfamiliar faces of your boyfriend's relatives.

It would have been nice if Brandon could have warned his family he was bringing you. It would have been nice if he would have had the time of dinner right. Maybe if you had been on time or his mom was forewarned, you wouldn't be dressed in your holiday best, locked in a high chair, waiting for Brandon to make you a plate like a toddler.

But, you weren't going to make a fuss and risk a bad impression the first time meeting his family. And you were glad you didn't.

As dinner went on, you found yourself happily chatting with all of Brandon's family members. They were all so kind and interesting that you totally forgot your childish seating arrangement.

As you chatted away with Brandon's sister, a 27-year-old woman just a few years your senior, you didn't even mind when he left, saying he was going to play football in the backyard.

At least, you didn't mind until all of the delicious food you had been eating started to make its way through your body.

"Hey, do you think you could let me out so I can help clean up?" You asked your boyfriend's sister timidly as you started to notice mother nature running it's course through your bladder and bowels.

"Of course not, sweetie! You're our guest! Make yourself comfortable! No cleaning for you," she said as she cleared your plate and utensils off the tray of your highchair.

You turned to Brandon's mother, hoping for help from her as a cramp rocked your body.

"Um, ma'am, could you let me out? I'd like to keep getting to know you all and don't want to be stuck at the table," you asked politely.

Your boyfriend's mother grinned.

"Oh, sweetie! You don't have to get out of your seat for that! I'll just roll you into the kitchen so you can talk with us while we clean!"

You blushed as the larger woman easily tipped the high chair back on its small wheels and rolled you into the kitchen.

You gripped your stomach and squeezed your thighs together as best you could as his mother and sister spoke with you while doing dishes.

However, after a little time, the sound of running water in the sink and the pressure of the large dinner you ate became too much. With zero fanfare, your bladder and bowels released at once, destroying your panties and cute holiday skirt.

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the humiliation of what had just happened. You were trying to plan a way out of the situation when Brandon's sister turned from the sink, and her gaze fell on you.

"What's wrong?" She asked just as the smell hit her. "Oh! Oh, no! Why didn't you tell us you needed to?" She asked rhetorically, letting the last words of her question drop off.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks in earnest.

The slightly older woman leaped into action immediately at your obvious distress. She whispered in her mom's ear then rescued you from your plastic prison. She easily lifted you onto her hip like an infant, embarrassingly smushing the mess in your panties into you, and carried you to an upstairs bedroom, decorated for a young girl.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we'll get you all fixed up and know one will be the wiser!"

Your boyfriend's sister expertly stripped you of your clothes and produced another holiday outfit, this time a red dress that looked a little big for you. She also pulled a large, white diaper out of a dresser.

You were too embarrassed to protest or ask questions as she had you lay on the bed and diapered you. You then meekly raised your arms as she pulled the dress over your head.

You spun for her at her command. She clapped her hands together, satisfied.

"Perfect! And no one else has to know! If anyone asks, I just thought you would look amazing in this cute little dress I used to wear to Thanksgiving in middle school, and you agreed to change!"

You nodded your head obediently, ready to agree to any story other than the truth.

"And, if you have any other little, um, accidents," your boyfriend's sister said conspiratorially, "just let me know, and your new big sister will be more than happy to take care of you again."

You blushed, but nodded your head in affirmation meekly, not ready to piss off the woman who just helped you after watching you mess yourself in a highchair.

She led you back into the rest of the house, where the rest of the family was now gathered together watching football. Brandon's mom gave you an empathetic look as you carefully walked over to your boyfriend and sat next to him.

"Hey, baby," he said, making your face turn as red as your dress, "Cute outfit! My sis is letting you borrow her clothes? I told you that she'd love you!"

You just snuggled into him and made a non-committal noise.

The rest of the night went blessedly smoothly. Everyone socialized amiably, updating each other on the happenings in their lives before it was time to leave. You were only reminded of the events earlier in the day twice, when Brandon's sister asked if you needed any more 'help.'

As you left for the night, his sister made sure to give you the last hug. She let her hand drift down your back and onto your padded rear-end, squeezing it before announcing to the rest of the family, "I've always wanted a baby sister, and I'm so happy my little brother has seemed to find me the perfect one! I can't wait to see you at Christmas!"

The rest of the family cheered in agreement as you walked out the door to the car, your boyfriend beaming at how much everyone loved you. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel like you were going to learn to dread holidays with his family as you let a little trickle of urine into the diaper wrapped between your legs.

[rokkit-story-time]

"I..." I glanced down and took a step back. "...I'd rather not talk about it..."

The big man leaned in, a curious look on his face. "Oh~? Something secret~? What, does it have some big weakness... or maybe it's something you're ashamed of?" I tried to keep any reaction off my face, but he noticed my half-wince and pushed forward. "That's it, huh!? You shouldn't worry, man! There's at least two people here who have some sacrificial ritual to keep theirs going! So just tell-"

A hand landed on his shoulder suddenly. "Drop it." The girl in leather he mentioned before gave me a sympathetic look.

The man didn't move. "Why!? I just want to know what we're working with!"

Her look became a glare as she turned to him. "Because this is loop 37, and I'm getting tired of trying to explain everything to you. This questioning goes *badly*, for everyone present. Stop."

The man blinked, then looked back to me for a long moment while I failed to meet his eyes. Finally he nodded, and when she released his shoulder he took a step away from me. "I'll go see if the magic types have had an idea yet..."

As she watched him leave, I spoke up quietly, just for her ears. "...so. I've been set off 36 times then?"

She looked back at me with a gentle smile and nodded. "Yeah, but don't worry. We'll figure something out that doesn't involve... *That* happening."

I shook my head before whispering, "I don't know if you will... Through those other loops, you've probably figured out what my power does. But, did you ever learn where it comes from...?"

The girl's smile faded, replaced with a wary, worried look. "No. I was more focused on dealing with the others and... Well, left you over here in the corner." She gave me a sheepish smile, but the worry stayed in her eyes.

"A shame that doesn't work, but I'm not surprised... Something always sets me off, in every situation. No matter how much I wish it never happened." I hunched in on myself. "A room full of immortals, trapped and unsure of how we got here? I *know* why I'm part of it..."

Her voice dropped even further, and she took a step closer to minimize the chance she was overheard. "...because you're the only person who can kill most of us." I nodded, the tiniest of motions. "But why? Who would want a bunch of unrelated immortals from across the world dead? And why did you mention where you...?" She trailed off, horrified realization dawning in her eyes.

I nodded again. "Because I don't think Death takes kindly to all of you."

"So, what immortality do you have?" "What?" "Well everybody in this room has a type of immortality, I got hyper regeneration, the guy over the is a lich, the girl in leather can save and reload, and I am not bothered enough to keep talking so what is your immortality?"

[yanderedrabbles]

What would yandere mafia do if he seen yn with another guy?

Yandere Gangster - Jealousy

He's your driver for the day and his eyes keep slipping to the rear view mirror to watch you.

You've got your arms stretched out along the backrest, a slim cigar drooping from your fingers and your head tilted back. Everything about you exudes a quiet, deadly confidence that still frightens him, even after all this time.

"Take the I76 and turn off at the airport."

"Yes ma'am."

He expects to maybe exchange some cargo or hand something off to a mule. He doesn't expect you to be picking up a man.

And he sure as hell doesn't expect you to hug the guy.

You - the cold hearted, merciless mafia boss - have your arms draped around a man's neck. And worse even than that, you give him a kiss on the cheek.

He's too shocked to move and when you tell him to grab the man's luggage, he takes a second before he manages to follow you.

In the car, you offer the man a pull of your cigar. He can see the slight stain of your lipstick on the filter before the man leans forward and covers it with his own lips.

It feels as intimate as a kiss.

And it makes him want to bite the man's face off and tear his throat to ribbons with his teeth and feel blood run like water down his throat. Instead, he just clutches at the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and numb.

No matter how much he hates seeing you with anyone else, you're still his boss.

Whoever this man is, you wouldn't take kindly to him being hurt without your explicit orders. Because the one thing he hates more than this smug bastard is the thought of you being angry with him.

And so he drives you back home and has to hang onto the door like a lifeline when the man rests his hand on your waist.

You tell him to come back tomorrow morning and he spends the rest of the afternoon drinking, trying not to think about you and the stranger all alone together.

He gets into a bar fight and it's almost a relief to be throwing punches. When he washes the blood off his knuckles, he pictures the stranger's face breaking under his fists.

In the morning, you see the bruises on his face and suck your teeth in annoyance.

"Why'd you let them ruin your pretty face?"

"It was a lucky shot ma'am."

You push the hair out his eyes for a better look and shake your head.

"Be more careful next time."

His throat goes dry at your touch.

"Yes ma'am."

Your hand slips from his head down to the nape of his neck. Your hands are so warm, so soft, that he almost melts. And the way you hold him is borderline possessive, the way a dog holds a puppy by the scruff of its neck.

"I'm proud of you. You behaved very well around my brother yesterday."

"Your brother?"

He feels a rush of relief and under it, a slight sense of trepidation. Were you baiting him? You didn't mention anything about the stranger being your brother.

You smile that cold, calculating smile of yours.

"You didn't think he was my husband, did you?"

He feels blood rush to his face.

"N-no ma'am."

"Good." You squeeze his neck a little before pulling away.

"I'd hate for you to think I had a lover."

[shallowseeker]

dean forgiving castiel for season 6 is always so wild. like some of the stuff in s6-7 is excused by castiel being high on the power of thousands of souls and i imagine dean just dismisses them quickly (bc in dean's position the moment cas showed up all weak i'd be like. oh fuck), but the rest of it is CRAZY. LIKE. CRAAAZY. s6 was filled to the brim with hot girl cas femme fatale moments and dean is just "nae.. i love him"

Dean, like Claire Novak, is on the whole, perhaps a little too forgiving at times. :-) Dean is usually very good at (a) reading people and (b) having genuine sympathy for where they're coming from.

I feel like the whole bit where he's talking to Emmanuel is so lovely for this. It's in 7x17, where he's verbalizing how Cas feels *different*:

DEAN: Honestly, I-I-I don't know if he is dead. I just know that this... whole thing couldn't be messier. You know, I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. You know, whatever it was. It might take me some time, but... I always could. What Cas did... I just can't – I don't know why. EMMANUEL/CASTIEL: Well, it doesn't matter why. DEAN: Of course it matters. EMMANUEL/CASTIEL: No. You're not a machine, Dean. You're human. 

///

There's also Dean acknowledging the absolute horror and no-win characteristic of the world Cas hails from:

EMMANUEL/CASTIEL: Why wouldn't you tell me? Being an angel – it sounds pleasant. DEAN: It's not, trust me. It's bloody, it's corrupt. It's not pleasant.

///

Then, there's Dean carrying the torch, being the ever-hopeful mechanic, always wanting to fix it.

DEAN: If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. CASTIEL: Don't defend me. Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth? CASTIEL stops and turns to face DEAN. CASTIEL: We didn't part friends, Dean. DEAN: So what? CASTIEL: I deserved to die. Now, I can't possibly fix it... So why did I even walk out of that river? DEAN: Maybe to fix it. Wait. DEAN opens the trunk of the car and takes out CASTIEL’s trenchcoat. He holds it out to CASTIEL.

///

Finally, there's the tragedy of still wanting Cas's help and support... but of course... Cas carries the penance too far and Dean is immediately HORRIFIED and conflicted by what unfolds:

DEAN: Shift? CASTIEL: Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet. CASTIEL quickly sits on the bed close to SAM. CASTIEL: It's better this way. I'll be fine. DEAN: Wait, Cas, what are you doing?

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Sexual Thoughts, TW: Sexual Situations, TW: Oral Sex, Dominant-ish Ghost, Submissive-ish Reader, Fingering

Get a bucket and a mop~ Also, don't think for a second that spiciness ends with this chapter. We going all out up in here lol

Reader POV:

"There you are," you murmured, turning to face him. "What took you so long out there?"

"Not much, just cleaning up a bit in the kitchen."

"You didn’t have to do that! I was gonna clean up in the morning.”

"I didn’t mind,” Ghost chuckled. "I’m not above washing a dish or two. Besides, you cooked. If you’re gonna be the Pancake Master, you gotta let me be the Dishes Master sometimes."

“Aw,” you melted at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”

You smiled dreamily, your mind instantly returning to the idea of living together long term. It had only been a few hours at the cabin, but part of you wanted to stay here forever. Far away from the stress of your job, distanced from the drama at the base, surrounded by pine trees, and with Ghost by your side. You glanced over at him, curious if he felt the same way. But when your eyes landed on him, you blushed when you saw him beginning to undress. Your eyes dropped to his hands as he began untying his robe, the simple act making your breath hitch.

"D-do you want me to give you some privacy?" You rushed, swallowing hard and tearing your eyes up from his waist. "I can turn around."

"This cabin isn’t very big. And we're literally sleeping in the same bed, princess. So we’re bound to see a bit more of each other eventually," he laughed, draping the robe over the foot of the bed. "Besides, aren’t we… Well, let me rephrase that. What exactly are we right now?"

"Well," you stammered, unsure how to word your response without sounding silly. "Is it too soon to start dating?"

"Depends. There someone you got eyes for?"

"Yes, you!" you laughed. "You know that!"

"Just making sure we're on the same page," he chuckled. "But no, I don't think so. If you feel ready to date again, I'd be more than happy to step up to the plate."

A rush of warmth slowly crept over your face as he nonchalantly lowered his sweatpants and stepped out of them. After placing them beside his robe, he shooed you towards the far end of the bed and climbed in after you. It appeared he was a "just boxers" kind of guy when it came to sleepwear. But you had no complaints. Far from it, in fact. The crotch of his boxers bowed outward dramatically. You had only taken a quick glance, not wanting to get caught ogling him. But the size of what was hidden beneath them was not lost on you. If he had turned out to be the type who slept naked, you knew you would have a hard time keeping your hands off of him under the blankets. Even if you kept your hands respectfully to yourself, the chances were high that his cock would brush against you at some point. Especially if you got him riled up a bit. A few innocent wiggles of your ass against his lap as you “tried to get comfortable”. Maybe you could secretly slip off your panties during the night. Maybe you could get him to spoon you and his cock would just so happen to press against your ass. Or, if you were lucky, between your legs.

“You good?” Ghost asked, noticing your mile long gaze.

You shook yourself from your sexual daze and gave him a quick nod before tearing your eyes off of his body. As you scooted across the bed, you were briefly ashamed to have let such thoughts consume you so easily. But you didn’t punish yourself for the sexual urges you felt. There was no shame in wanting him like that, craving him like that. With a body like his, who could look at him and not want to jump his bones?

You scrambled as far from his side of the bed as you could, trying to give him adequate space. But there wasn’t very much space to work with. Even moving as far to one side as you could, there was barely half of the bed left available. And to get that much extra space, you were awkwardly crammed against the bedroom wall as Ghost settled in beside you. He sighed and stretched out lazily, tucking his arms behind his head as he reclined against the soft pillows.

"Um, Ghost?" You giggled. "I don't know if this bed is going to be big enough for both of us."

"We'll fit just fine. We just gotta be a little creative,” he hummed, reaching out for you. “Come here, princess."

Moving slowly and gently, Ghost’s large hands settled around your waist and he tugged you closer to him. As your weight started to roll over onto him, his hand moved to hug the curve of your hip to keep you from falling over. The gesture was purely utilitarian and innocent, only meant to help support you. But you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingertips pressed oh so close to the curvature of your rear. As he deftly pulled you on top of him, you had to bite back a moan at that act alone. Once you were securely snuggled against his chest and he was certain you’d found your balance, he pulled the blankets to cover you both and then wrapped his arms around you.

In truth, Ghost hadn't made the position suggestion with ulterior motives. How else were you supposed to sleep? And he was fairly sure neither of you would voluntarily opt to sleep through the night squished against the wall like you had been. But when your chest pressed against his own, he felt the unmistakable sensation of hardened nipples shifting against his chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. And in your current position, all that separated your breasts from pressing against his bare skin was a thin layer of loose fabric. Every move you made on top of his made the outline of your unrestrained breasts shift and bounce against him. And each time they did, Ghost felt his excitement grow. And if he wasn’t careful, you would most certainly notice it. In an attempt to prevent any unnecessary friction against his groin, he tried to shift your body higher on his own. But when you pushed off of his chest and sat up, the fullness of your ass landed directly on him and he failed to contain a heated moan at the sudden contact. A moan that he knew you had to have heard.

And his suspicion was correct because you definitely had. You saw the brief flicker of desire in his eyes. You felt his hands twitch, his fingers tightening around your hips for only a second. And beneath your fingers, you could feel the pace of his heart sharply increase. The man was as horny as you were! Judging by the increasing stiffness in his boxers, he was more than just a bit excited. Feeling emboldened by his response, you pressed further and ground your groin against his. The motion made his breath stutter and his hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the same. But despite the pointed interest his body conveyed, Ghost stiffened beneath you and clamped his hands down on your waist to hold you still.

"Look," he sighed, his voice strained. "I know what you’re trying to do. But you've been through a lot tonight. And I don't want to take advantage. I don’t want this to be something you regret in the morning."

"Do you… not want me anymore?"

Your mind spun with panic and embarrassment. Was it all about the hunt for him? The thrill of the chase? And now that he'd gotten his prize, the fire had gone out just like that? Had you really just destroyed one relationship to end up right back where you had started? What on earth had you just done??

Ghost saw the sheer mortification on your face and rushed to dispel it. "No, that’s not what I’m saying. Honestly, it's taken everything in me not to bend you over the nearest surface ever since you got out of the car. You're lucky you made it two steps past the front door. I want you then, and I sure as hell want you now. But I made you a promise and I’m determined to keep it, though it’s proving to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I’m not putting my hands on you without your clear permission. Without confirmation that it's what you really want."

Though the mood was serious and tense, you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. It was so kind of him to be that committed to respecting you. But though it warmed your heart, the last thing you wanted him to do tonight was treat you respectfully.

“Ghost,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you tugged your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor. “What I want is for you to fuck me. As long and as hard as you desire. That's what I really want right now.”

Ghost’s breath was coming in short pants, his eyes burning into every inch of skin you revealed to him. You reached for the hem of your panties, eager to remove them as well. But now that he had heard the words he’d been waiting so long to hear, Ghost was unwilling to waste another precious second. Before you could lower the fabric past your hips, his hand shot out and seized your bicep. His fingertips dug into your arms painfully as he gave your body a forceful yank, pulling you back down on top of him. Your hips molded against his as the palm of his other hand pressed into your lower back, forcing away any hopes of separation between your bodies. And then the world spun around you as he flipped you beneath him. Your back had barely bounced against the mattress before he was on you.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you, princess,” he growled, caging you from above. “Don’t you doubt that for a second.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal down your spine, making you shiver in anticipation. You didn’t want to wait any longer and he clearly wasn’t interested in delays himself. In that spirit, you reached down and started frantically tugging at your panties to get them off. But Ghost stopped you a second time, this time closing his hand around your throat and pushing you down into the bed below him.

“Mine,” he snarled.

The ferocity in his voice and the fire in his eyes was more than enough to make you freeze in place. His intention was clear. He wanted to remove your final piece of clothing himself. So you let your hands fall limp against the mattress, surrendering fully to his lead. With one hand, he grabbed hold of the waistline and yanked, the delicate lace shredding in his fist like tissue paper. And the minute the clothing was removed, his hand eagerly took its place. After giving your delicate folds a few firm strokes, he quickly shoved two fingers into your core.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, throwing your head back at the sudden entry.

The hand at your throat kept you from being able to see his pleasure unfold. But the low moan he made at your wetness was more than enough to satisfy your curiosity. His eyes were glued to where his fingers vanished into your depths, watching them slowly drive in and out of you almost in a trance.

“God. You’re so wet, princess,” he moaned. “Just as tight as I remember, too. Jesus.”

His pace began to slowly increase, his fingertips curving upward to stimulate hidden targets deep within you. Targets that he struck with firm and brutal precision. Every entry made you whimper with both need and pleasure. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about that. And after the last time he’d touched you like this, he was well aware exactly how to make you a quivering mess of arousal. And he was well on his way to doing just that.

“Ghost-”

“Don’t talk, no words,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit. “Let me take care of you, doll. Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered again, the sound growing higher in pitch as his thumb kneaded the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands on your body? His fingers thrusting inside your wet folds? His thumb torturing your clit in the best of ways? There were so many things to feel all at once it was almost overwhelming. But you obeyed, abandoning all thoughts of speaking and letting your head loll back onto the pillow. Your eyes fell shut and you hung on as the indescribable pleasure filled your senses. But if you thought the current stimulation was enough to drive you over the edge, nothing could have prepared you for the wet heat of his mouth descending on your sex.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your entire body trembling beneath him.

Ghost moaned against you in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations. His tongue lapped at you hungrily, determined to not let even the smallest crevice of your folds go unexplored. For a moment, his lips encircled your clit and sealed around the small protrusion. And then he started to suck. Hard. It felt like he was drawing your very soul out of your body with each desperate tug. And if he was, you wouldn’t have stopped him. He could have all of you, body and soul. He could have everything as long as the feeling never stopped.

You whimpered loudly as he devoured you, clutching the bedsheets to control the powerful tremors rippling through your form. Control. That was a cute thought. There was no such thing as control. Not right now. And if there was, it certainly wasn’t in your possession. When his hands shifted to your hips and hoisted your lower half completely off the bed, it was clear all of the control here was in his firm grasp. He threw your legs over his shoulders and pressed your folds against his mouth, continuing to suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves with reckless abandon. And all you could do was limply dangle from his arms, letting out gasped moans of pleasure as he ate his fill from your sweetness.

When your legs started to quiver uncontrollably, Ghost tightened his hold on you and finally released your clit from his lips in order to plunge his tongue into your slick entrance.

“Good girl,” he mumbled into your folds. “Such a good girl for me.”

Those words were your first undoing of the night. And you felt safe in assuming there would be many more to follow. With a strangled cry of pleasure, you fell over the harsh drop of your climax. Your thighs tensed around him, but he welcomed the increased pressure and moaned into your sex as a fresh supply of wetness flooded his mouth. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. Only garbled, incoherent sounds flew past your lips as your body tried and failed to handle the intense waves of release that overtook you.

Perhaps you blacked out from the stimulation alone. Perhaps you were just that dazed from the sensations that reality escaped you for a moment. But either way, you had somehow ended on your stomach. Your hips were lifted off the bed just enough to give Ghost the access he required. And the very next thing you registered was the fat head of his erection rubbing against your folds from behind. You couldn’t see anything from this angle, but it made you wonder just how big he actually was! If the tip felt as large as it did, he was going to stretch you out more than just a little. But instead of forging ahead, Ghost had paused and was lingering there.

“Princess,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”

“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”

Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”

[what-have-i-unleashed]

chasing infinity

@howlsofbloodhounds for you my most enabling moot. i think this is way harder to write than anything i've written before so...

shamelessly ripping off arrival (2016) and story of your life. go watch/read it!!

(cw: suicidal ideation, abuse)

chara is about to turn their back on me as they excitedly go on and on about another game that they've thought of. i want to imprint every detail of this moment in my mind. the cadence of their cheerful speech, the unsuspecting smile on their face, the weight of my knife hidden in the sleeves of my jacket.

this is it. this is when it will all change. an end of a story, and a beginning of another one.

years from now, you'll have heard of this moment recounted by me. we will be sitting in a cafe at the corner of a small street as i finish my story. i will laugh at the gobsmacked expression on your face, and you'll splutter, your rainbow-colored flames sparkling like fireworks.

"what type of story is that?" you'll ask me.

"a tragedy," i'll say, sipping on my piping hot milk coffee. "as life is wont to be."

you'll argue that reality is not a story with a definitive end, and i'll humor you. i can't help but wonder though, what the genre of our story is. i've been wondering for a while. i know how the story will end - i've known for a while. in thousands of you's and me's out there, our story repeats itself over and over again, but i don't think i was, am, and will be tired of it. i wish i could tell you about our story some day, but we'll never have the chance.

i haven't understood how to feel about it, and i doubt i will ever do either.

i guess it is cliche to start the story at the very beginning, but maybe it is warranted. it was disorienting - the moment of birth. the softness of the golden flowers enveloped me, but it was small comfort in the face of the pain shooting across my body. everything about it felt wrong - the broken joints, the hollow face, the nakedness. and yet, it was right.

people say babies are born with limited eyesight that develop slowly after time. but i am doomed to forever be cocooned in infancy - a broken prototype of a being, just good enough to be allowed to exist with the rest of the world.

chara didn't mind me. "hello, partner," they said to me, minutes after i started to exist. i couldn't see them, only able to hear to voice so close to my head. "are you ready for the rest of your life?"

the secret is, i'm always ready. like that one time your friend delta will begrudgingly invite both of us to a hangout, i'll grab an umbrella on my way out. delta will look at me strangely.

"it's scorching today. what are you taking an umbrella for?" he'll ask.

"killer often has a sixth sense when it comes to unexpected things," you'll chime in for me. "and it doesn't hurt being prepared."

delta will squint his eyes at me, who will sport a not-so-innocent smile. "really?"

"really," you'll say before i can say anything, knowing that i'd cause a scene just outside the door just to rile the hotheaded skeleton monster up. "let's just go now, shall we?"

we'll leave our house that we'll have chosen together just three months before. the food at the bar that delta will bring us to will be just average, but you'll enjoy the atmosphere too much for me to say any disparaging comments. we'll sit together in a secluded booth - just the two of us - listening to terrible music and watching as the first snow rain fall down on the street. your hand will hold mine as i'll put my head on your shoulders, finally still.

waterfall is chara's favorite place to visit after new home. there is that one statue in the rainy corridor that they like to visit from time to time, most of the times without me. it is easy to tell that is a weakness to look into, but for some reasons i always refrained myself from doing so. too late now anyway.

like usual, chara took two umbrellas in the bin but neither of them was for me. i was ordered to leave them for an indefinite amount of time, and of course i had to be productive during that free time: finding flowey, finding the remaining survivors, finding new ways to entertain chara.

i went to the echo flower field this time. the usual scripted dialogue lines repeated themselves over and over across the field. i was trying to find anything new, anything that would indicate another change in this game, in this script, that would intrigue chara. this time, i found one.

"hey, do you think we're stuck here forever?"

"why would you think so?"

"... i don't know. it's just a feeling i have lately. everything's been too much."

"... yeah, i understand what you mean. but hey! maybe this won't be the end! maybe we'll get through this." a strained laughter followed. "come on, you're such a pessimist. it's good to practice some radical optimism once in a while, you know?"

"maybe. it's just difficult to have hope when everything is so, well, hopeless." silence. and then, "if you knew this would happen, what would you have done differently?"

"hmm i don't know-"

"-maybe i'd have tried to visit people i love more. tell them what i feel before, well, this happened."

"that's all you'd do?"

"like i said! i don't know what i'd have done. you're the one randomly asking me this!"

"mmmm sorry..."

"hey, no need to apologize. i know you're just as anxious about this as i am."

"don't want to make you feel sad, habibi."

"i'm not. being with you, it's the best thing to happen to me. i wouldn't have done anything differently."

it will be a full four years after we start to live together that you say the word. and i'll freeze. the world will stop as if waiting for what i'll say back to you.

"i love you too," i'll say, and you'll beam, arms carefully hugging my smaller body. i don't know what emotions i'll be feeling at that moment. logically, happiness. most likely, guilt.

i'll be thinking about what i think right now, and i'll laugh at it.

the medics will tell me that it is an inevitable conclusion of your condition, that they are extremely sorry for me to hear this. i'll tell them it's all fine, that i've expected this. and i'll know they won't believe me.

i know illnesses like i know my own body and soul - there's no difference between them. i remember the way the insides of my body burned for the first time, the agony, the delirium. it felt wrong, but it was so right at the same time. this was how i was supposed to be - this is how i will always be. and i've accepted that a long time ago.

chara once used my body as a flower bed. strangely, it was one of the most peaceful game they played with me. just lie there in the dirt and play dead - easy enough. the way the dirt was deposited into my skeleton frame was uncomfortable, but thankfully not painful. chara has always been interested in gardening, but they lack the patience for it. but this time, as they said, this time they would get it right.

"what do you want to grow?" i'd asked them before all of this, as i prepared to lie down in the pit i'd dug for myself with my bare fingers. it'd taken a long while, and my fingers were all sore and dirty by the time i was done.

"buttercups," chara hummed. "i miss them around here. asgore never has them anymore."

i didn't question how chara knew. i didn't question why they cared. i just accepted the answer as it was and plopped my body beneath the dirt. chara had taken care to put my soul somewhere else. somewhere safe. it was nice of them to do so, i thought.

my body, with all its needs, was nothing but a burden anyway.

i don't know if being with you will fix me. i don't know if you care about it. i don't understand you, truly. i wonder if i will.

but i don't have infinite time to think. the world doesn't stop when i languish in thoughts. i'll have infinite time later, but never now.

so i'll remember this moment - this last moment between me and a dead child who has been here for too long. i knew this would happen, that everything would come to this point. and then after this, there will be more to come. there will always be more to come. so i hold my knife above chara's head as their back is fully turned. after them, there will be another, then another, then another, then one day it will be you.

i can't wait to see you.

[bloggerspam]

"I think I'm going insane."

Val jumps, almost bumping her head up against the underside of the car above her, at the sudden sound of Steph's voice echoing in the garage.

It's been about an hour since Jay finally got Danny's reply texts. He left, now assured that Danny was awake and understood it was a misunderstanding, to hopefully ask Danny out.

"Insane?" Val echoes, rolling out on the creeper until she can sit up, grabbing a rag to clear up the grease all over her arms as best she can.

Jay had told her to go home, along with the rest of the mechanics, but in his rush he had left a broken down Mazda leaking so she wasn't exactly going to just leave it like that.

Plus, she's gonna be staying far away from the apartment until she's 100% it's all clear. Maybe crash Sam and Tuck's hotel room, stay with them just in case.

"Insane," Steph confirms, looking like some kind of art piece leaning on Jay's work table across the room, "Y'know, like that Einstein quote."

"I'm not sure I follow," Val scrunches up her nose, thoroughly confused. She gets up, tossing the rag and heading towards her sudden guest.

She's technically not allowed to be doing these types of repairs, considering she lacks the certifications, but she thought she might as well finish it up for Jay to look over tomorrow before heading home, so the timing of the other girl's visit is at least perfect.

Steph watches her as she twirls a finger through her hair, pretty blue eyes half lidded and pouting with her very kissable lips. Val looks away to focus on clearing up her workspace.

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Steph quotes, and oh, right. Conversation was happening.

"Actually," Val starts, slipping the top part of her coveralls off and wiping her face and thoroughly ruining the white teeshirt she's got under, "Rita Mae Brown said that quote. Well, wrote it in her book."

She realizes a little too late that that might sound too condescending, so she course corrects, "But anyway, what are you doing that's making you insane?"

She turns to look at Steph, jumping once more at how close Steph suddenly is. Val's backed up against her work table, Steph looming over her with all of her 3 inch height advantage. A metal tool falls over the side of the table, Val's not sure which one, from the resulting bump.

They stare at each other, Val profusely thanking any and all Gods, Ancients, whatever Higher Beings out there that her dark skin makes it harder to see if she's blushing. Not that it helps when Val's probably staring at Steph's mouth like a loon.

A long moment passes, Val somehow finding it within her to tear her eyes away from the other girl's mouth—did she mention how kissable they looked?—and staring somewhere off to the side, confused.

"Flirting, Val!" Steph groans, throwing her hands up and stalking away to pace back and forth, "I've been flirting with you since we've met!"

"What? No." Val says, scoffing, "I'd notice if you were flirting with me."

Steph gives her a look that promises some kind of spar in the future that will cause Val to possibly lose feeling in all her limbs. Val shivers at it, sure that something's wrong with her if that turns her on, as she watches the blonde take off her jacket and prowl forward towards her.

"You're so fucking stupid." Steph says, the profanity of it shocking Val enough that she doesn't react when the other girl fists a hand into her shirt to pull her forcefully towards her into a searing, almost painful kiss.

Val feels like she's having an out of body experience, like lights have blinded her. But Steph's lips are soft, her hands are holding Val's hips, her body is pressing up against Val's and Val's definitely been stupid because they could have been doing this the whole god damn time.

But she kisses back, and that's all that matters. She kisses back, and somehow her body knows how to do the rest.

Her hands trail up Steph's biceps, feeling the soft cotton of the sleeves, trailing up to drape over the other girl's neck. She tilts he head to get the angle a little better, tiptoeing just a bit to make up the distance. The kiss isn't urgent, despite the sudden nature of it. The kiss, kisses, are soft, reaching, insistent. Small little things that cumulate one on top of the other, breathing into each other's spaces, bodies trying to melt into one another.

Steph's hands roam up towards the small of her back, Val arching at the feeling of it, and Steph must like that because she moans into her mouth like it hurts. Between one breath and the next, tongues are involved, and Steph tastes divine.

It's enough to make Val lose it. Her hands trail back down to Steph's waist, bunching up the fabric as she clutches the other girl closer. It frees up space for Steph to loop her long arms around Val's neck this time, gives Val the opening she needs.

She grips tight, spinning them around and lifting Steph onto the table. The other girl graciously makes room to accommodate Val's bulk, long legs wrapping around Val's waist as her hands trail down to trace the seams of the rough denim of the other girl's jeans.

Steph pulls Val down with the arms around her neck as she leans back and what is Val to do but respond? Her hands end up gripping Steph's thighs, and the heat of her is intoxicating. It's like Val's burning from the inside out, flames licking at the roof of her mouth and trickling down her throat, pooling in her stomach and radiating a heat that threatens to melt her.

And yet still, still, the heat of Steph consumes her.

Val detaches from the other girl now, to take a moment in the steamy haze. She braces one hand on the table below them, giving her abs a much needed break from hovering over the other girl, and just breathes.

Steph is beautiful.

Val stands over her, splayed over her work table like a vision from a dream straight from some romance era painting that Val could never hope to conjure up in her most fantastical dreams. Milky white skin, pearl blue eyes, a flush that Val wants to follow helplessly with her lips, her tongue, her fingers. Her blonde hair fans out around her like a halo, scrunched and mussed and silky and beautiful.

Val was already breathless from the kissing, but now it feels like the entire room has deprived her of air.

"You're beautiful." Val breathes out with the last of her oxygen. It's worth it. It's so worth it.

Steph, who had been half lidded and dazed, quirks a soft smile. Her entire body seems to soften with it, muscles loose and arms still lazily looped around Val's neck, squeezing just a little bit, a quick little hug.

"You're not so bad yourself, you know." Steph whispers back, voice husky as she brings a hand to trace over Val's cheek, her brow. She leans up to give Val a soft peck on her cheek, and the tingles of it warm her, makes her close her eyes to lean her forehead down onto Steph's, to breathe her air, to share space.

"As nice as this is," Val starts, "I want to be clear…I don't want this to just be a fling."

If her relationship with Danny taught her anything, it was that communication was important.

"I like you, Val. I want to get to know you more, date a little." She pauses, smiles a wry smile, "Or at least, go on dates and have you know they're dates too. Maybe…girlfriends? In the future?"

Relief and embarrassment floods through her. "Yeah, yeah that sounds great. And uh, sorry. For, y'know, bein' stupid."

She curls down to bring Steph into a hug, lifting her a bit to make room for her arms against the hard wood of the table below, burying her face into the space where Steph's neck and shoulder meet, laying a kiss as gently as she can to the place she rests.

She feels the shiver that wracks through Steph from the action, feels the way her legs tighten around her, and Val breathes and breathes and breathes her in, clutching tighter.

"You're forgiven. Besides," Steph sniffs, "I wasn't going to let you take me here and now. I'm classier than that."

Val chokes on a laugh, muffling it into the other girl's shoulder. "Wouldn't have been hygienic anyway." Val wiggles a hand out, showing off the grease and oil, "Sorry about the shirt. And pants."

"I can't complain." Steph laughs, and it lights Val up. "I was the one who jumped you, after all."

"Serves you right." Val mumbles as she wraps her arm back around the other girl, causing another precious laugh.

"Can I touch your hair?" Steph's hands are rubbing her back up and down now, migrating shyly up to the back of her neck.

"Yeah, 'course." Val mumbles, trying her damnedest to become a part of the lovely girl beneath her.

Delicately, Steph seems to fiddle with her hair, as if twirling a finger through each dread, one by one.

It's a long peaceful moment before Steph breaks the silence again.

"Now that we've established that you're a moron," Her tone is soft and sweet despite the words, "and that I'm clearly moron-sexual…" Val snorts, causing Steph to whack her on the back of the shoulder lightly for the interruption.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Val lifts up, loathe as she is to separate from the blonde, beaming, "My treat."

Steph rewards her with a smile so soft, a lovely little thing, as she curls up to give her a kiss on the cheek and whisper her answer into Val's ear.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[fioredeciliego]

Chapter 7

Incheon, South Korea

2019

Under the quiet, moonlit sky along Incheon's coast, Jimin and Y/N strolled side by side, letting the rhythm of the waves ease the lingering adrenaline from their first-ever heist together. The rush of the mission had faded, leaving a peaceful silence broken only by the soft crash of the ocean against the rocks. The stillness around them was a rare luxury, and Jimin felt a contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time, as if being with Y/N made all the sharp edges of her world feel softer somehow.

They ambled along until they reached a secluded cove sheltered by rocks. Jimin glanced over at Y/N, who was skimming her hand along the rough cliffside, lost in her thoughts. She wanted to capture this memory—the way Y/N's face softened under the moonlight, the slight curve of her lips, and how the ocean breeze tossed her hair. Something about this moment felt like the right time to say what she had been holding back for months. But her courage wavered as soon as she opened her mouth. The words she'd rehearsed so many times seemed trivial in comparison to the intensity of what she truly felt.

They sat down on a rock by the shore, side by side, the cool sea breeze wrapping around them. Instinctively, Jimin took off her jacket and draped it over Y/N's shoulders, who accepted it with a grateful, somewhat surprised smile. For a moment, neither spoke. The ocean stretched endlessly in front of them, and with each passing wave, Jimin felt her heart race a little faster.

"Y/N," she started, her voice barely audible over the waves. She turned to face her, gathering every ounce of courage she had. "Have you ever met someone who just...changes everything for you?"

Y/N looked at her, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Sometimes," she replied softly, an openness in her expression that invited Jimin to continue. "I think I know what you mean. But why do you ask?"

Jimin took a shaky breath, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand beside her. "It's just—when I met you, everything shifted," she admitted, her voice filled with a sincerity that even surprised herself. "I told myself that it was just because we're in this together, that it was just the thrill of the mission. But...it's more than that. You make me feel like I've found something real, something worth holding onto."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, and a gentle smile spread across her face. "Jimin, I've been feeling the same," she whispered, looking down shyly, as if revealing a secret she'd kept hidden. "From the first moment we met, I felt this pull, like we're just...connected. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we have. But it's been there this whole time."

Jimin felt a warm rush, the relief and happiness washing over her. "So, you've felt it too?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

"Yeah," Y/N replied, her voice soft, her hand moving slowly to rest over Jimin's. "All this time, I kept thinking I was imagining it, or that I'd ruin our friendship if I said anything. But now...I don't want to hold back anymore."

The moonlight cast a glow around them as Jimin moved closer, their faces inches apart. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked at Y/N, her voice a whisper. "Then maybe we should stop wondering."

Slowly, almost as if testing the moment, Jimin leaned in, her gaze shifting between Y/N's eyes and her lips, a quiet question in her expression. Y/N's eyes softened as she closed the distance between them, and their lips met in a gentle, tender kiss, one filled with all the unspoken words and lingering glances they'd shared. The kiss was slow and delicate, as if they were savoring each second, finally allowing themselves to feel everything they'd kept hidden.

As they pulled back, they stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Neither of them spoke, and yet, the silence was full of meaning, a quiet understanding that their relationship had changed in ways that couldn't be undone.

"Jimin," Y/N said softly, breaking the silence, "I don't know what tomorrow holds. I mean, with everything we're doing, it's not exactly normal. But...if you're with me, it feels like I can handle anything."

Jimin's hand found its way back to Y/N's, fingers lacing together. "We're in this together, Y/N. Whatever happens, we face it side by side."

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's warmth as the waves continued to lap against the shore, the night seeming to hold them in a protective embrace. For Jimin, that moment solidified something she'd known all along—Y/N wasn't just another ally or friend. She was someone who made Jimin feel alive, someone worth fighting for. And for Y/N, Jimin had become a safe haven in the chaos, a presence she could lean on without fear.

As the first hints of dawn began to creep across the horizon, casting a soft glow on the sea, they remained on the rocky cove, reluctant to leave the sanctuary they'd found in each other.

--

After basking in the warmth of their newfound connection, Jimin and Y/N eventually pulled themselves away from the calm of the coast. Hand in hand, they made their way back to the warehouse, the first hints of dawn just starting to light up the sky. Neither of them spoke much, still lingering in the glow of the moment, each glance between them holding the weight of all they'd just shared.

As they slipped into the warehouse, Jimin kept her hand gently at Y/N's lower back, guiding her inside. It didn't take long for Aeri and Yizhuo, who had been resting on some stacked crates, to notice them. Yizhuo's eyes immediately sharpened with curiosity as she took in the subtle, glowing blush on Y/N's cheeks and the satisfied smirk playing at the corners of Jimin's lips.

"Wait a second," Yizhuo said, straightening up and eyeing them both with a mischievous grin. "Are you two...?" She trailed off, raising her eyebrows as she tilted her head expectantly.

Jimin couldn't help but smirk wider, while Y/N looked down, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh my god, finally!" Yizhuo practically squealed, clapping her hands together with excitement. "I knew it! I just knew it!" She turned to Aeri, nudging her with her elbow. "Didn't I say something like this would happen?"

Aeri chuckled, a smile spreading across her face as she nodded. "You did. It was only a matter of time."

Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up even more as she glanced at Jimin, whose gaze was still locked on her with a look so tender it made her heart race. But amidst the laughter and congratulations, a quiet figure nearby watched them closely. Minjeong, who had been leaning against the wall, observed the scene with an expression that was harder to read.

The others' playful teasing barely registered with Minjeong. She felt a strange, unfamiliar pang as she watched Jimin's arm resting protectively around Y/N's shoulder, the way Y/N's eyes would light up whenever she looked at Jimin. She couldn't shake the sensation, an uneasy stirring that left her feeling slightly off balance.

"So, when did it happen?" Yizhuo asked, giving Y/N a playful nudge. "Come on, spill. We've been waiting ages for this."

Jimin glanced at Y/N, their gazes holding for a brief, electric moment before Y/N answered. "Just... tonight, by the coast," she replied softly, her voice full of warmth. "We just...finally admitted it to each other."

Aeri and Yizhuo exchanged knowing smiles, clearly delighted for their friends. But Minjeong forced a small smile, not wanting her confusion and new feelings to show. There was something about Y/N, something magnetic, and Minjeong suddenly felt as though she'd only just realized how drawn she was to her.

After a few more rounds of teasing and laughter, the group settled back, and the conversation turned to the usual discussions of their work and mission. But Minjeong couldn't shake the thoughts swirling through her mind. She'd always admired Y/N's strength, her calm under pressure, and her soft, understanding nature. But now, seeing her with Jimin, she felt something different—something uncomfortable, yet undeniable.

As the girls continued talking, Minjeong found herself glancing at Y/N more often than she'd like to admit, a soft frown playing on her lips as her gaze lingered just a bit too long. It was the first spark of something new, something she wasn't quite ready to confront. But the feeling was there, simmering beneath the surface, making her painfully aware of Y/N in a way she never had been before.

And even as the morning light crept through the warehouse windows, Minjeong remained quietly in the shadows, watching Y/N and Jimin with a newfound sense of longing that she couldn't quite explain—or ignore.

--

There was only one room with the light's on at the mansion the girls have been staying at. Minjeong's turmoil ran deep, a tangled web of confusion and unexpected feelings that she had never anticipated experiencing, especially regarding Y/N. As she watched the close bond forming between Y/N and Jimin, it felt as though a light had been shone on something she had kept in the dark, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

For the longest time, Minjeong had seen Y/N as a steady presence in their chaotic world—a friend who brought a sense of calm to their missions, someone she could rely on. She admired Y/N's unwavering courage and the way she could mediate conflicts with grace. But as she observed Y/N laugh and blush in Jimin's presence, something began to stir within her, a feeling that had taken her by surprise.

It started with envy. Minjeong couldn't deny the tightness in her chest as she witnessed Y/N's eyes sparkle with joy, a brightness that had previously been reserved for their little group. Jimin had always been charismatic, but seeing her charm directed at Y/N felt different—intimate. The way Jimin brushed her fingers through Y/N's hair, the gentle way she spoke to her, made Minjeong acutely aware of her own feelings of inadequacy. Was she not enough? Did Y/N even see her in the same light?

As Minjeong processed these emotions, her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She had never considered herself the type to fall for someone like Y/N. Their friendship had been a comfortable one, built on mutual respect and shared experiences. Yet, here she was, grappling with the realization that she wanted more—a deeper connection that she hadn't consciously sought.

The more Minjeong tried to dismiss her feelings, the stronger they became. She caught herself imagining moments with Y/N, whether it was quiet walks under the stars or whispered secrets shared in the dim light of the warehouse. Each time she did, a sense of guilt washed over her. Was it fair to feel this way when Y/N was so clearly happy with Jimin?

Every shared laugh between Y/N and Jimin felt like a dagger to Minjeong's heart. She hated how much she wanted to be the one making Y/N smile like that, to be the one holding her close. The feelings she had for Y/N were new and confusing, layered with the complexities of their friendships and loyalties. Minjeong didn't want to ruin what they had, but she couldn't ignore the growing ache inside her, either.

As the days went by, Minjeong found herself withdrawing slightly from the group, spending more time in her own thoughts. She felt like an intruder in her own life, caught between the comfort of their friendship and the turmoil of her emotions. It was exhausting to keep up the façade of indifference when inside, her heart was in turmoil.

When Aeri and Yizhuo teased Y/N and Jimin, Minjeong plastered a smile on her face, but inside, she was fighting an internal battle. It was as if the walls she had carefully constructed around her feelings were starting to crack, exposing her to a vulnerability she had never wanted to face. She feared that if she allowed herself to feel too much, it would complicate everything.

And so, she became an observer in her own life, watching Y/N from the sidelines while wrestling with her desires. The situation felt increasingly untenable; Minjeong longed to confide in someone, to share the weight of her feelings, but the fear of ruining her friendship with Y/N held her back. Instead, she bottled everything up, unsure of how to navigate these uncharted waters without losing the connections she valued so deeply.

Deep down, Minjeong knew she needed to confront her feelings—if only to understand them better. But each time she tried, the thought of losing Y/N, or worse, watching her happiness with Jimin, held her back. The turmoil continued to swirl within her, leaving her torn between friendship, longing, and the desire for something more.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 7.3 - You Can't Go Home

As they filter off the train, the smell of iron gets further away and Akira finally begins to relax.

He asks her a ton of questions, partly because he's curious and partly because he wants to keep the focus off himself. Alice is in the middle of talking about her class when her body goes rigid.

Akira scans for a threat but comes up empty. Train stations are generally pretty clear of supernatural creatures, except low-level spellcasters and baby vampires at night. They aren’t much use when you can transportalate, turn into a bat, or run for miles in wolf form. And the fae avoid them altogether. 

“You good?” 

She flinches when he reaches for her hand. “I-I’m fine,” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you smoke? Weed, I mean, not cigarettes. I…I think I’m gonna smoke. Do you wanna come with me?”

“I thought you said you had to turn this assignment in,” he reminds her.

She stares across the platform, but he still can’t figure out what she’s looking at. 

“I’ll do it later. And you don’t have to come. That was weird of me to peer pressure you,” her laugh comes out high-pitched and wrong, “You're probably busy. I’m good. I’m gonna go. And you’ll go, and I’ll just see you later.”

She's babbling and her hands are shaking. There is no universe where he just leaves her like this.

“Yeah, I smoke," he takes her hand and leads her to the exit. "And I got time. No classes, remember?”

Akira has been to the Commons a few times (for creeper reasons), but he's never climbed the tower. The air is especially crisp, but Alice doesn't seem bothered by it.

Despite resisting earlier, he finds himself wishing she would extract some promise from him—some commitment to keep him tied to her. It's a terrible idea. He knows better. Akira has always been careful not to break one of the rules he’d learned by brute force.

“This is a shit weed,” he coughs.

“Hey!” Alice playfully points an accusatory finger, “I invite you to my secret perch and share my paltry stash, and you insult me?”

“You need a new dealer if this is your stash.”

“And a new bank account!” She laughs. “Try to chillax, my dude; you are working against the medicinal benefits.”

He tries. His lungs fill, but it takes three more rounds of coughing before he evens out. Alice, meanwhile, is a professional. She barely coughs, though she's had twice as much as him. He's not even sure she's high.

"Why photography?" he asks when she joins him on the bench.

"Most of the time, I get asked about painting; no one even thinks about photography."

He shrugs, "Your focus isn’t Fine Arts. Why am I gonna ask you about something you don’t do? You want me to guess?" When she nods, he waves a hand across the sky, pretending to paint a picture. "Art lets you remake the world in a more pleasing image, which is kind of nice because the world is shit. But you do photography because you want the shitty stuff upfront. No lies. You'd rather tango with the truth."

She straightens, suddenly alert. "Maybe. Kind of. But photography is also lies. All you do when you snap a picture is capture a moment in time. You can still tell yourself a story about the emotion you saw or what really happened. It's just a different kind of lie from painting."

The weed is definitely kicking in, but he likes her explanation.

"So what are you studying?" she asks.

Direct questions are the hardest to dodge. Especially now when he feels like he’s floating a hundred feet in the air. "I'm studying nothing," he says honestly. "I just follow what interests me."

"Why?"

"Because I have a lot of time." Infinite, actually, if he kept his head attached to his body and didn't end up on the wrong side of a curse.

"If I had time, that's what I'd do too. And catch up on back seasons of 7 Wild Dates."

Akira laughs, "Stop. I changed my mind. That show is moving to the bottom of my watch list."

“Don’t be mean!” Alice sticks out her tongue, "That's quality programming you're missing."

They smoke more and talk about nothing, which feels like talking about everything because Alice leaps from topic to topic. She knows a little about a vast number of subjects, like knowledge for her is a series of wading pools and she's just hopping from one body of water to another.

It's how Akira operates too. Once he gets the gist of something, he's ready to move on.

“Tell me one thing about you so you can stop accusing me of hanging out with a stranger," she says, "Where are you from?”

A flash of pink sky. 

A veil that never seems to part.

A home he can’t get back to.

The yearning is so real he jolts. “What if I told you that nothing about me or my life is what it seems? And because I don’t want to lie to you, you’re probably gonna find I won’t answer all your questions. Maybe any of them.”

Alice thinks for a minute. “I guess I’d say tell me what you can, not what you can’t.”

Akira wants to praise her wordplay. He wants to kiss her. He does neither.

“I love horror movies,” he confesses, “When I was like, 10, I snuck into the Moonlight Massacre Marathon at the theater downtown, and I was fuckin’ hooked.” 

The whole story comes tumbling out, even the part about Titania being a little shit and ratting him out to their parents. Alice laughs and complains about her step-sibling, and Akira viciously guards every drop of information she shares with him.

“I like horror movies too. If I throw in Moonlight Massacre II, will that elevate 7 Wild Dates on your watch list?”

His phone buzzes with a reminder about tonight’s job. He gets to his feet. “Next time,” he tells her.

“You promise?”

A promise is a dangerous thing. 

—A binding thing. 

A vow. 

No promises. 

Akira nods, “Yeah, I promise.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 3 of 4)

[runes-menagerie]

"At the cost of becoming a mindflayer at any moment. Honestly I'm not sure what will happen first. Him finding me or becoming a monster." Astarion replied bitterly. He once more wished there was some way to control the tadpoles to keep the benefits without the risks. He wouldn't have thought it possible but they hadn't turned yet so maybe there was a chance.

"I.... I think I'd like that. You aren't horrible company and would be a good idea to have a Warlock around when dealing with rituals and devil languages." He replied with a somewhat forced flippantness while staying relaxed in the Tiefling's arms.

Astarion listened and had to resist laughing at how similar they were. It made him wonder if there was some sort of divine comedy at work around them. Where the Gods laughing at all this? It wouldn't surprise him. Rather than laughing he decided to speak the words his younger self had wanted to hear.

"You do deserve to be treated gently. You deserve to be cared for." He said, his voice rough with emotions he refused to really express. He ended up huffing a laugh anyways while shaking his head. "Keep that up and we'll end up taking on the whole world. Not a bad thing since the world could certainly do worse than with us in charge but that would take a great deal of power darling. We just struggled up a thorny hill to avoid a fight. So unless you have some undisclosed tricks up your sleeves, I don't any of that will happen any time soon."

It wasn't a rejection exactly but more a statement of the practical side of their situation. Astarion wasn't at all opposed to killing their enemies and taking over but he had been powerless for so long that unless something bigger than some little worms in their heads changed, he honestly couldn't see them pulling off any of it.

“So… the tadpole had been good for something. You can walk in the sun light, the connection between you and him is intercepted and other rules don’t apply to you. It’s a good start to have gotten away. But we do need to work on freeing ourselves. Not sure if we should risk it and have him find you again when free from the tadpole. Maybe we could change the order of things…” He didn’t know how yet.

Caligo didn’t expect his companion to relax the way he did, but he was glad that he did. He’d find himself caring a lot about this one, more than he cared about anyone and they haven’t been together for long.

“If you want me with you, I will help you find out… together…”

He was silent for a moment and decided to share some of his experience, about his scars. “I changed my mind on how you could have me, from rough to something gentler, slower… because you made me feel I deserved it. My mother died giving birth to me and my father made me pay for it… in many, many ways… Which are what my scars are about. And I want to kill him for it and everyone who ever thought it was alright to take advantage of my father’s hatred for me.”

Caligo gave the vampire a little squeeze. “You don’t have to do things alone, Astarion… we could make those pay some day… Cazador… my father… everyone…” This was the moment where that hatred would either be encouraged or discouraged. Accepted, rejected… It would show where their morality lied.  

[secretsimpleness]

Sometimes I want to bring Morrigan but then I remember I play as a face-tanking rogue and I bring Wynne. Warden Cousland, Morrigan, Wynne / Dragon Age Origins (c) Bioware

[felassan]

.