#but you’ll have to stop her if she becomes too greedy

[chikoyama]

more vampire chi brainrot 🥵

[sorceresssundries]

Every Shade of Sunlight

This is a BG3 anniversary gift for my friend @mercymaker <3

Pairing: Astarion/Maleane (m/f) - SFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: It is the last night before the group go to face the elder brain, and Maleane takes Astarion to watch the sunset for possibly the final time.

"Darling, as much as I appreciate a little rough and tumble down a dirty alley, you’ve been dragging me through the city for quite a while now. Is there a specific dirty alley you had in mind? Or, did you just get sick of camp? Not that I blame you, my sweet. Gale has been particularly irritating this evening.” 

“Perhaps he's just trying to squeeze out as many words as possible in our last few hours together?” Maleane replied, her eyes scanning the shadows diligently.

Astarion sighed. “Sometimes, I’m glad he hasn’t decided to blow himself up. Other times, I regret not persuading him to do it sooner. He is frightfully repetitive.”

Maleane rolled her eyes, and could feel her lover’s greedy gaze on her as she strolled through the hidden alley which ran through the bowels of Grey Harbour. She was trying very hard not to be distracted; she had a careful, precise, time-sensitive plan. If Astarion didn’t stop brushing his hand over hers or making suggestive comments, she would definitely end up fucking him in a dirty alley. That wasn’t what she had planned... at least not right now.

“Aha!” She turned to him with a grin and pointed to a dank, well-hidden ladder that looked so rotted one step might turn it to mulch.

He looked highly unimpressed. “Unless that ladder leads to a cultist to kill and a heavy treasure chest to break into, I think I’ll stay down here.” he sneered.

“It leads somewhere much better than that. Trust me.”

He raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Better than murder and treasure? This sounds like a trap.”

She grabbed the ladder with confidence despite its decrepit appearance. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

With a wary glance, Astarion followed her up the ladder, his usual swagger slightly tempered with caution. 

At the top, Maleane clambered onto a ledge and over a small railing to a tucked-away rooftop. The last light of the day bathed the space in a warm, golden glow, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. The rooftop was modest, nowhere near as spacious as Alfira and Lakrissa’s haven atop the Elfsong. This one was dingy, with weathered stone tiles underfoot and the faint remnants of old paint on the wall of the larger building that towered next to them. However, Maleane had done her best to breathe a little life into it.

A variety of plants, from hardy ferns to flowering vines, were strategically placed around the space, creating pockets of greenery and bursts of colour. Comfortable cushions, covered in bright but slightly faded fabrics, were scattered about, arranged on a couple of old wooden crates repurposed as makeshift seating. In one corner, a small wrought-iron table, a bit rusty but still sturdy, held a collection of candles in different shapes and sizes and a bottle of expensive wine

“This… this is unexpected.” Astarion turned to her, surprised.

“Don’t get too moony-eyed,” she teased. “I stole it all.”

“Well, then I'm even more impressed.”

“Come on. Sit.” Maleane gestured towards the makeshift bench while she poured out a glass of wine for them. 

Together they sat, and spoke, and sipped their wine. Maleane resting her head on her lover’s shoulder as they watched the sun set on their final day with parasites in their heads. Tomorrow, one way or another, Astarion would no longer be able to bask in the light he had become accustomed to. It pained her. 

The view from the rooftop was nothing short of spectacular. The Chionthar stretched out below, glowing with shades of gold and crimson. The sounds of the bustling city were muted, a low background hum—ambient sounds for the two lovers on a rooftop in the city they were trying to save. 

“As delightful as your company is, it feels like you’ve brought me here for a reason, my love. Or are you just feeling sentimental?”

“Show a little patience, you’ll see.”

“Darling, I was a slave for almost two hundred years. Patience is the only thing I've ever had.”

She nudged him with her elbow, and nodded her head back towards the sunset. “Watch.”

He sighed dramatically, then quieted, watching as the sun he loved almost as much as her began to sink below the horizon. The shimmer of yellow, soft and tired after a long day, was slowly being dragged away. Astarion stared at it with barely concealed longing, all his usual bluster and facade dropped. He observed the sunset the way one would watch their lover walk out the door for the final time.

Maleane, however, only watched him as light muted and the shadow of dusk fell over his face, turning his eyes from shining scarlet to a deeper maroon—so much deeper they could almost be mistaken for brown. His skin looked less pale, his fangs hidden beneath the straight line of his lips. He looked the way she imagined he did when he was alive.

She often wondered what he was like in those days, when he was young and human and fragile. Did he ever steal bottles of wine and sneak away to hidden rooftops in the city he lived and loved in? What did he look like, smell like, sound like? Maybe his words used to sound different slipping off a tongue that wasn’t silken and practiced. Perhaps his vowels were rounder, his accent softer, uncut by the sharp points of his teeth. 

Maybe he was an entirely different person, or perhaps he was exactly the same. Maleane would never know, and Astarion would never remember.

She grieved for the person he was before, loved him for who he was in this moment, and steeled herself to protect the person he would become. No one stayed the same; everyone was as changing as the seasons, and contained as many colours and streaks as the sunburst sky. Her heart ached as he mourned the death of the day, the final one he would possibly ever see. Then, his expression shifted. He looked confused.

Maleane smiled and tore her gaze from him to follow where his eyes were fixed.

Right there, in the day’s final moments, when only the very top of the sun was visible - it turned green. Just for a few magical, unexplainable moments, a vibrant, clear flash of the brightest emerald. And then, it was gone.

“Did you see that?” His disbelief reminded her of a child watching snow fall for the first time.

Maleane hummed in contentment and put her hand over his. “Sometimes, when the sky is clear and the weather is right, just in the final moments before the sun disappears - it turns green.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, I'm sure there’s some long, boring explanation that Gale could tell us about. It’s supposed to be a sign of luck, a good omen.”

“How did you know it would happen?”

“I didn’t. I hoped.” She sighed as his cool thumb brushed over her knuckles. “I used to watch out for it when I was a child. Most people don’t even see it. They sit under the sun every day and never know all its colours. Lives are lived and days are long and no one stops to see the sun turn green.” His eyes are fixed upon her now, the sun long forgotten. “I wanted to show you every shade of sunlight. Gods knows how long it will be before you see it again.”

“If I ever do.” His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it. 

“You will.” Hers was made of iron.

They sat there for a while, the two of them, as the orange and purples and reds of the sunset stained sky melted away into inky blue. The light followed the sun below the line of the horizon, where it sat and patiently waited for tomorrow. Who knows what it would cast itself over the next time it appeared. 

Dawn could clutch at the burnt-out corpse of Baldur’s Gate in the morning like a grief-wrecked parent, and wake the birds to sing songs of sorrow. Or… it could raise its arms in celebration, light up the homes of the saved and slip through the stained glass of still-standing temples and cast colour across stone floors. Shimmering through the tears of grateful worshippers which would stain the feet of the Gods, making their worship look like diamonds.

The Gods didn’t deserve their tears. It would not be the Gods that saved them, Maleane thought bitterly. It would be up to her small group of misfits and outcasts. The chosen and the cast-aside. The faithless and the faithful. The tortured vampire and the lost girl from the woods.

No-one would thank Astarion. The gratitude of the morning sun would not reach him. He would slink, shadowed and unrewarded, once again back into the darkness. He would not be alone though, Maleane would make sure of that. 

“Have you ever been up here before?” Maleane asked, It was strange to imagine Astarion as a young man. Just one of the people she had seen settled and happy in the routine of their day in the city. It was a heartbreak to think about how she was so grateful to have found him, and yet the only reason he was in her life was because he had been killed, dragged back from death, and mistreated so poorly.

“Who knows darling.” He sighed. “I don’t remember much, only blurred faces and whispered names. I distanced myself too much to remember particular details. I don’t even know who I was, let alone where I've been.”

He took a long sip of his wine and became lost in clouded thoughts. 

“I’ve been a victim, and I've been a monster, and, ridiculously, some kind of hero. I don’t know who I really am, or which one I'll be when all this is over and I have to deal with normality” He pulled a face as though he'd just bitten something sour. 

“All of them.” She said, simply.  “You’re a person.” She touched his face, cool and perfect. Brushes her fingers down and along the chest that has no rise and fall to it. “Full of burnt orange, and flashes of scarlet, and a yellow so blinding it could be pure white. And also, in rare little moments right before darkness - flashes of green.”

“You’re very sweet.” He lifted her hand to kiss it  “Nothing at all like the angry little forest sprite I first pressed my blade to.” He teased, and flashed his pointy teeth in a genuine smile. 

“What can I say, turns out the threat of ceremorphosis, being thrown into a group of strangers, lifting curses, slaying dragons and becoming the partner of a vampire will change a girl.”

He gifted her with some of his sparkling laughter, a sound so sweet and imperfect a monster would never be able to make it. “Partner,” he said, clinking her wine glass with his own. “I like that.”

Their last peaceful moment was abruptly shattered by another shuddering quake from the elder brain, barely contained and thrumming with anxious, threatened energy, awaiting their arrival. 

“This was wonderful while it lasted, darling,” he sighed, rising and extending his hand to her. “But I guess nothing lasts forever.”

She gazed at him, pale and ethereal, bathed in fresh moonlight.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Maleane replied, as her fingers entwined with his. “Let’s wait and see.”

He kissed her then, beneath the warm blanket of dusk, with the fervour of a man gasping for air, for life, for her. She knew that no matter what came next, even if it meant centuries in the shadows, she would stay by his side.

She would be his light, his mirror, and the home he could always return to.

“Please don’t kiss me like it’s our last night,” she murmured softly, a trace of anxiety creeping in for the uncertain hours ahead.

He smiled against her lips. “My love, I’m kissing you like it’s our first.”

[luvv4j4ybe11]

✧ Summary~ you and your bsfs get a lil high and touchy

✧ Warnings~ mentions of getting high, peer pressure(a lil bit), praise, oral (reader receiving), dom!kiri n etuwa, sub!reader, body worship, biting/marking, kiri is a tease but she makes up for it, a lil edging, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, Enjoy, babies<33

✧ Translations~ Yuey- beautiful (inner beauty), Oeyä syulang- my(possesive) flower, Yawntu- lover, loved one, beloved person, Yawne- Beloved

You and your best friends have always been touchy with each other, it was how you showed your love to one another.

But all three of you were feeling especially touchy right now, slow caresses and soft kisses being exchanged from each of you. You blame the weird looking plant that kiri forced you guys to eat.

You were laying snuggly against etuwas side, her arm resting under your head comfortably, acting as a pillow. Her free hand was switching from resting on your stomach to threading her fingers through kiris hair softly. While kiri was lying between your thighs, slowly trailing her hands up and down your legs and playing with the detailed calve bracelet that she made for etuwa. All of you just enjoying each other’s company and the forest around you.

The extra touching didn’t bother you at all, it just heightened the euphoric state you were already in.

Which was both good and bad, because you loved the feeling of their hands on you..but you hated how hot it made your body and pussy leak uncontrollably.

You knew they could smell you too, because their touches were getting more firmer and meaningful and their own pheromones were getting stronger. The mixture of both of them becoming intoxicating to you in your hazed state.

You’re torn between the embarrassment and arousal that was rushing through your body, but before you could stop yourself from saying anything you know you’ll regret once you sober up, you already feel your mouth opening to mumble a needy plea.

“Please..need more”

It was barley audible, but they still caught it. you just couldn’t stay silent anymore. Not with the way your cunt was throbbing under kiris weight. “Mhm, I was waiting for you to say something, ma’yuey..” etuwa murmured through a soft giggle before turning your head towards her, giving you a slow, sweet kiss. You whimpered quietly into her mouth at the feeling of her lips against yours, causing another giggle to leave etuwas lips.

“I could barely hold back because of how good you smell, oeyä syulang.” You heard kiris melodic voice state before you realized that your loincloth was long gone and that kiri had flipped over so she was at eye level with your pussy. You buck your hips towards her, desperately searching for some type of relief.

She doesn’t listen to your silent demands though, instead she leaves kisses all around your cunt and thighs, just to hear you moan and whimper pathetically because she wasn’t giving you what you wanted. “Such a needy little thing, so desperate for her pretty body to be touched, hm?” Etuwa coos before trailing her hands up your body to play with your sensitive tits, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips.

The heat in your core was getting more unbearable the more they touched you, or barely touched you. “Kiri, please! I wanna feel you!” Your pleads fell on deaf ears, making you whine in irritation and throw your head back against the firm muscles of etuwas bicep, giving her more skin to mark and bruise so everyone know who you belonged to.

That was until kiri finally licked a bold strip up and down your cunt before sticking her tongue into your greedy hole, turning your little irritated whine into loud wonton moans and whimpers. Etuwa leaned forward to kiss you passionately, swallowing every noise that came from you.

She was eating you as if you were the juiciest fruit in the desert and she hadn’t had food in days. And to her, you were.

Her pace had you tipping closer and closer to your high, making your moans turn into despreate little whimpers and murmured pleas. “So pretty, ma’yawntu” etuwa praised softly as she cupped the side of your face gently, brushing a few stray braids behind your ears. Not like you were coherent enough to hear or respond to her though, not with how kiris tongue had your mind blank and pussy throbbing around nothing.

That emptiness was quickly filled by kiris long, slender finger. Reaching all the spots you couldn’t as she drew circles on your sensitive clit with her tongue. You knew the coil in your stomach was seconds away from snapping, causing a small “Wanna cum..please..” to fall from your lips. Kiri didn’t catch it, she was too lost in the delicious taste of your pussy, but etuwa did.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess all over kiris face so I can play with you.” the stern but gentleness of her tone had you spiraling, her accent getting thicker the more she watched kiri devour you. the vibrations from all of kiris little groans and moans being the final push you needed before your release washed over you. You felt your slick spilling out of you like a river, making a mess all over kiris face and your thighs.

Your head lulls down, eyes meeting kiris lust filled ones. “Mhm, wow, syulang..didn’t think I was gonna make you squirt that quickly” there was a cocky grin on her face that made you roll your eyes and dramatically fall onto etuwas chest. You hear etuwa scoff sarcastically before responding to kiris little comment. “It was a team effort, yawne.”, earning her playful “Yeahh,okk” from your best friend. The whole interaction making three of you laugh.

“Trust me, I didn’t even know I could.” you admit, reaching your hand up to play with etuwas hair. “Is that so, ma’yuey?” She questioned as she turned her head to the side, a devilish smirk on both of their faces. You nod and let out a small ‘mhm’ as you’re lifted up and places into kiris lap, etuwa now laying between your thighs. Kiri looks down at you before she leans in to place lovingly kisses all over your face and lips. Etuwa doing the same to your thighs.

“Then let’s see if you can do it again, oeyä syulang.”

A/N~ I really enjoyed writing this bc wlw fics will never not be fun for me to write(even tho I proofread this sm times and had to stop to recharge bc I was lagging💔). N I’ve been watching the “Blue eye samurai” and “Arcane” and phew😩 need me a muscly,protective,pretty, sexy, cute, gf RN. Literally can’t get Mizu and vi out of my head bc they’re js so mhm, delicious 😋 definitely gonna be writing for them sooner rather than later. But that’s it!! I hope you guys enjoyed💕 stay safe and hydrated, love you, babies💕

Duces🫶🏽,

luvv4j4ybe11

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Taglist~ @blue-slxt @xylianasblog @hotdsworld @eyweveng @etherial-moon-blog @criticallybella @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @hungrynessforfics @bunnscoffe @daydreamer246 @ikeyniofthetayrangi

[natsarrownecklacx]

Addictive Pt. Two

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 894

Summary: Y/n is addicted to making her girlfriend moan and she’ll do anything to drag as many different kinds of moans from her as she can.

Warnings: Smut, minors DNI this fic is NOT for you. Fingering, Mommy kink, begging, subby Wanda, allusion to punishment, choking

Part One

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

“No.” Wanda cries out, desperation swimming in her green eyes as she looks up at you pleadingly.

“Please, Mommy. I was good and I was so close.”

A pout falls over your lips as you look at her. Tears of pure desperation track down her cheeks and rest heavy on her lashes. Her eyes are wide, her pupils blown out. God she looks just perfect.

Unconsciously you move your hand back between her legs and begin rubbing slow circles around her puffy, abused clit.

Instinctively Wanda moves to rest her head back on your shoulder, cute little moans already slipping past her lips.

Only her pretty green eyes aren’t on you anymore and you can’t have that. Using your other hand you take her jaw in your hold and gently force her to look back at you. “Keep those big doe eyes on me, baby.” You tell the girl, moving your fingers down to dip into her soaking hole when you see her bite her lip and nod at your command.

A deep moan falls past the brunette’s lips, feeling your fingers inside her again. A quiet “mommy please” falls from her lips and you know you have her where you want her.

An idea pops into your head, making a borderline evil grin take over your face. “Mommy’s sorry for teasing you, angel.” You coo, giving her your best fake sympathy voice. “You're right, you’ve been such a good girl for me. You deserve to cum.”

Bringing your lips down to suction against her pulse point you rest the heel of hand against her bundle of nerves, allowing her to grind into it. Your other hand occupies itself by groping her chest gently, knowing exactly how to work her up.

“Agh!” Wanda cries out in pleasure, the whites of her eyes the only part visible. “Feels so- so good, Mommy.”

“I know, angel.” You sooth the girl, picking up the pace of your fingers inside her. Your gentle touches on her breast turn to rough, greedy groping, causing Wanda’s hand to fly up to her mouth in an attempt to quiet her moans and cries of pleasure.

“No, sweetheart.” You lightly scold the girl, pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Let me hear your pretty noises sweet girl.” You coo, looking into her eyes and fucking your fingers into her at a much faster rate now.

Wanda whines, balling her hands into the sheets beneath her. Her hips buck wildly into your hand, grinding her clit against the heel of your hand as she does so.

“Someone’s getting a little too excited.” You lightly mock the girl, pinching and pulling her nipple as you do. “Do I have to get the restraints baby?” You taunt the girl, feeling her clench desperately around your fingers.

“No. No.” Wanda shakes her head rapidly, determined to come. If she plays her cards just right she will, even if she has to trick you into it. Just another few thrusts and she’ll come, she’s almost there.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be good, Mommy. Please don’t stop.”

“It’s okay baby. Mommy’s not gonna stop.” You lie to her, knowing damn well that the second you feel her coming around you you’ll pull away from her.

A whimper falls past Wanda’s lips. One that tells you exactly how close to straddling the line of pain and pleasure she is. She’s quickly growing overwhelmed with the feeling of your fingers inside her.

“Mommy.” She whines, in an attempt to tell you how overwhelmed she’s becoming, following one of the boundaries you have set for yourselves.

“I know, baby. Mommy knows.” You soothe her, moving your lips down to cover over hers.

Your fingers pull out of her almost entirely, only to push back in again roughly causing the brunette to gasp into your mouth. You take the opportunity to slide your tongue into your mouth, moaning at the taste of her. Wanda greedily sucks on your tongue, using you as a distraction from the unbearable pleasure between her legs.

Your hand playing with her chest trails up to her neck, squeezing lightly. The action sends a shot of hot arousal straight to the witch’s stomach, the coil inside her tightening further.

“Mommy!” Wanda gasps, her crazed way of telling you she’s close to coming.

You smirk to yourself, burying your head into the crook of her neck. “Shh, pretty baby.”

Wanda’s thighs shake and threaten to close. “Ah, ah, angle. Keep those pretty legs open for me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts of your fingers for Wanda to fall apart. Mindlessly she grabs your wrist in her hand, holding it in place and closing her thighs around you.

She must be out of her mind with desperation to pull a stunt like that. There’s no way she would have done that if she was in her right state of mind. Nevertheless she did break one of your rules and now she has to be punished.

“Oh god, fuck.” She moans, riding out her high on your fingers.

You fuck into her faster, tightening your hold on your neck. You want her to enjoy this feeling, to prolong her high for as long as you can. To give her this last moment of pleasure. Because you know that the second she comes down you’ll torture her for hours.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n- I tried to post this two weeks ago and the tags messed it up, any mistakes are just being left there cause I got to frustrated with it not posting properly

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 5)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Warning: this chapter contains mentions of the horrors Snow inflicts on ‘desirable’ victors, nothing graphic but could still be upsetting to some readers. Proceed with caution.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Damn it,” Haymitch curses, taking a long swig from his glass.

Katniss is inches away from literally becoming the girl on fire. Sprinting through the raging flames as foliage and trees block her way.

“Why are they doing that?” Y/N tugs anxiously at the sleeve of his jacket.

“She’s too close to the edge.” They need to turn her around, but the fire balls are for show.

“Not now.” The gamemakers have chased her well back into the tree line. “Why aren’t they stopping?”

“I don’t know.” Haymitch huffs, “I have as much control over this as you do.”

“We need a sponsor.”

“To send her what exactly? A fire extinguisher?”

Remember who the real enemy is.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N shakes her head, “it’s fine.” Haymitch is direct and abrasive, he does not sugarcoat. There are times when she wants that, needs it even.

“I was dismissive.” For all she was his protégé, she is now his equal. Old habits die hard, the places where they are joined bleed into one another.

“No, you were right.”

Things in the arena have calmed down, Katniss nursing a burn to her thigh. Stumbling back to the river, finding a moment’s relief before the careers and Peeta spot her.

“I’ll keep an eye on things here if you wanna go work the crowd,” if they’re gonna kill Katniss, Haymitch doesn’t want her to watch.

“I’ll wait till it’s done.”

You stubborn thing, let me spare you; just once.

Despite her injury, Katniss scales her way to the top of a tree which the careers can’t seem to shake her from.

“Let’s just wait her out,” Peeta suggests, “she has to come down sometime. It’s that or starve to death. We’ll kill her then.”

Cato contemplates for a moment, “ok.” He shrugs, “somebody make a fire.”

“Now go,” Haymitch insists, “she needs something for that burn. I’ll man the fort. Go, be great.” He pecks her cheek in parting.

Y/N stands, dragging sweaty palms down the front of her dress. Passing the betting pool on her right. They smile and wave. The victor forces her best grin, spotting one of the more generous patrons and locking eyes.

The man shakes his head at the whistling of those beside him. He’s been chosen.

“How’ve you been?” Y/N plucks two champagne flutes off the serving tray as it passes. Their contents a dark blue.

He smirks, accepting the offering. “I know your game, little minx. Tell me what you want.”

“Something for my tribute’s burn.”

“You’d think the girl on fire would be used to it.”

Y/N huffs a laugh.

“How much is this going to cost me?” That’s the real question, isn’t it?

“Two thousand.” Play money for someone like him.

“Greedy, greedy.” He tuts, fishing for his wallet.

“You’ll make double that if you bet on her.”

The Capitol man cocks his head of green curls. Y/N is beautiful, not in the way his wife is. Understated, but never overlooked and though she dresses the part, she will never fit in. Standing out like a neon sign among the masses. A humming live wire. “You seem confident.”

“She’s demonstrated better survival skills than half the tributes from one and two. Besides, you’ve always been generous.”

“Because I like you. Dare I say, we’re friends.”

“We are friends.” You’ve been good to me, kind even.

“Most people here are looking for a bit more than friendship from someone like you. A few of my colleagues would so love to meet you.” It’s not meant to be an insult, but it stings all the same. “Do be careful, little minx. Take my money and run.”

————————————————————————

When Katniss receives the parachute with a note that reads ‘apply generously and stay alive. -Y/N & Haymitch,’ she wonders how far away the arena is from the tribute center. Is it just beyond reach, separated by a dome of tech?

What would her mentors say now, without all of Panem to see? If only she could talk to them, just one more time. To be comforted by Y/N, scolded by Haymitch even. Scooping a bit of goop from the container onto her wound, it soothes the ache. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Nights are the hardest, in and out of the arena. If a tribute needs something after hours, they’d have to wait until the viewing room opens the next day. Y/N insists the games stay on, the feed streaming to district twelve, broadcast over the exterior wall of their room in the tribute center.

“You gonna fill me in on what the hell’s going on?” Haymitch asks, keeping his distance for now.

“The kids are sleeping, no cannon for a while now.”

“I didn’t mean the games.”

She knows that. “Haymitch.” His name is choked, so different from the way he’s used to hearing it.

His tumbler clunks down on the bedside table. “Come here,” he clambers onto the bed, still fully clothed from the day. “Come here.”

She worms her way into his open arms and sobs. Wracking both of them with the force of it.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes, trying to absorb some of her pain.

She cries herself to sleep, even as Haymitch hushes her. Breath hitching in her throat, the terrible way that turns his stomach. When she stills, the front of his shirt caught in her fist, Haymitch dozes off. Waking to the sound of her screams, pushing at him, desperate to free herself.

“It’s me,” he pulls back enough for her to see with her own eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I love you.

She tells him of her conversation with Cashmere and the sponsor. How afraid she is that pay per views aren’t going to keep these people entertained forever. Eventually they will get tired of watching them, they’ll want to be with them; and neither she nor Haymitch will be able to say no. “If Katniss lives, they’d do it to her too.” Just like Finnick and Gloss and Cashmere, all the others before them. “They’ll do it to her too.”

Haymitch gentles her with pretty lies. ‘He’ll sort this out.’ They will have to pry you from my cold, dead, hands.

————————————————————————

Little Rue, from district eleven, is also quite the climber. Making her way to the tree closest Katniss and drawing her attention to a tracker jacker nest a few feet up. If she’s able to drop it down on the careers, she might take out one or two. At the very least, cause enough of a distraction to get away.

Y/N watches on bated breath as Katniss begins sawing through the branch with her knife. People of the viewing room hiss each time Katniss is stung. Letting out a collective cheer when the hive falls, sending the careers and Peeta scattering. All but Glimmer, who catches the brunt of their stings.

Haymitch shifts. I’ll be damned, you might actually make it out alive, sweetheart.

Peeta circles around, after the cannon sounds, leaving Katniss with the bow and arrow. “Katniss, go! Run! Get out of here. What are you doing?”

She blinks at him slowly, effects of the tracker jacker venom dulling her senses. Putting enough distance between herself and the tree with the body underneath before falling into the brush. Plagued by images of days gone by.

Part 6

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902

[anime-x-readers]

PART ONE

Anime: Attack on Titan

Pairings: Levi Ackerman X Reader (Your name is Yuna)

Genre: Fluff, Emotional, Tension

Summary: A titan attacked you in a mission and you've been sleeping for 4 days in a row, not waking up but worrying someone you didn't expect to.

Stoic, distant, that’s all you can read in Levi Ackerman’s expressions and movements. One of the captains of the Operations Squad, you haven’t had many interactions with him. Since joining his group, he’s shown you that he's an exceptional and extremely powerful leader. He's killing titans like just slicing bread aside. The times he saved your life? No, you don’t know what they meant to him. Who knows? Still, they were many.

Sometimes, you feel like he looks at you with a certain emotion, but you can’t figure out what it is. Only he knows. What is certain is that... you always worry about him, always wish for him to be well. You’re crazy, aren’t you? To think that someone like him could feel something for you? Nah...

After Commander Erwin’s death, Levi has completely withdrawn. If he was withdrawn, observant, and serious before, now... he is much quieter and more calculated. You’ve never seen him like this, but you’re aware the commander was like a father to him. He probably misses him a lot.

One day, you woke up in a room with a strange smell. What was that, alcohol... disinfectant? You felt dizzy and your head hurt. Ah, yes. The mission from 4 days ago. Wait, 4 days? That much time had passed, and your last memory is fighting with a tall abnormal titan. Hilarious.

“Yuna!” Hange echoes from the hallway. You jolted. Her deep voice reminded you that you’re injured, and your body has been tense for 4 fucking days.

“Hey, Hange. What happened... to me?” You ask somewhat unsure, because you’ve just woken up and don’t remember much. I mean, you didn’t even realize you’d slept that long.

“Don’t you remember? Anyway, that freak went insane when you weren’t waking from the ground after the mission, girl,” she admits, rubbing her neck and sitting on the wooden chair by the metal edge of the humble bed.

Now you were even more confused. What is she talking about?

“Uhm, I have no idea what you are trying to tell me.” But she looked at you as if she expected you to have figured it out. Maybe later, but not now, in this state. All you could think of was... a cup of tea, a warmer blanket, and a hug. For real.

“Oh? Alright then. He’ll tell you. I’m not going to interfere, but it seems interesting. You’ll have to tell me later.” The expression on your face as you look at her probably amuses her. Because you have no idea what she’s talking about. Did Armin worry about you? Is that it? You know he goes into a panic phase when something happens to you. You’ve been friends since childhood, and he’s always tried to look out for you, but you’re always too adventurous and greedy. “I’ll let you rest,” Hange continues.

You opened your mouth to say “See you later!”, but you stopped with your hand suspended in the air. No trace of Hange in the room. That woman will definitely have a lot of explaining to do.

Looking out the window, you saw the sunset turning the room red. Suddenly, you remembered the guy who always intrigued you. What is Levi doing right now? Is he in his office? Drinking his tea with sugar? Going through paperwork? Or...

He bursts into the room you’re in. This time, miraculously, you didn’t jolt. But, you looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, amazed that it’s not in his nature to behave like this. Is he okay today?

“Levi?” You gulp, analyzing him. He was wearing a loose, cream-colored shirt with long sleeves. It suited him so well. Below, he wore a simple pair of loose black sweatpants. It didn’t take long for his expression to become stoic and unreadable again. He's not in the uniform, is he off today?

“You’re alive,” he states simply. Typical.

“Aren’t you glad?”

“Don’t get cocky, brat.” He rolls his eyes but still moves towards the chair where Hange once sat.

“Did you drink your tea today? You seem more arrogant than usual.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction, settling more comfortably.

“Yuna.” He catches your attention pretty fast. You look directly into his eyes, waiting. God, the shadows of the sun portrated his face so artistically. “I was angry. You damned promised that you’ll take care of yourself everywhere.”

Your eyes grow big. He cares about you that much? He’s always been cold, rigid, seeming like he didn’t care about anyone around.

“I always thought we were just soldiers to you...” You look down, intertwining your own fingers.

“If I thought that, would I have saved your life? Do you hear yourself?” he asks ironically, leaning back in the chair.

You take a deep breath, feeling your cheeks heat up. You never wanted to admit it, but you always fell asleep at night thinking about him. Wondering if he was ever interested in any girl, or if he knew how to show any affection. Knowing him... stoic, expressionless, you never knew what to think. How is he really, if you get to know him closely?

“Thank you, Levi!” Thinking about the times he saved your life, and recalling his rather worried expression in the first few seconds when he entered without knocking... made you realize that you’re, maybe, not just a simple soldier in his eyes.

The tears forming around your eyes make you feel ashamed. This is the first time you’re crying in front of him and, he probably wouldn’t even know how to react. When you gather the courage to turn your head towards him, his blue eyes are arrowing on your green ones.

What happened to him? What happened inside him when he noticed your rosy cheeks and shining gaze? First of all, you didn’t miss the fact that he swallowed hard and his jaw tightened. For a second, he looked away.

“I’m a fool. I didn’t notice until now that you really tried to get me home safely. I didn’t notice that you risked your life to save mine. Levi... I don’t think you deserve to live like this, within these walls, I... you always save everyone and put yourself in the position to protect your group. Then...”

“Stop talking.” Levi pressed his lips together, looking away for a moment. “Not in my nature to be so close, so remember this exception.” After saying this, he lazily got up from the chair and sat on the edge of your bed. Seconds, minutes, you don’t know how many passed while you looked into his eyes, and he into yours. His gaze sent shivers down your spine. Why? Blue eyes, like those of a predatory shark.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye how his right arm rise towards your face. His fingers touched your soft cheek, wiping a tear from under your left eye. God...

Your eyes examined every inch of skin on his face. The way the tips of his bangs tickled his forehead and temples made you feel an immense net of butterflies, spurred on by a heartbeat. The butterflies flew free, swarming through your whole body, not caring that your cheeks were going wild. So was your heart, and your thoughts that ran far from his clothes.

No, forget that. This is an emotional moment between you and him.

He placed his palm on your left cheek, and you instantly let your face fall into his touch. You had no idea why he had this effect on you. He never got this close to you before, but you knew that tonight would change your life. Who knows how tomorrow will be? But, remembering that Levi is next to you, you were no longer afraid to face the world.

“Levi...” You try to find out why he’s doing all this, but he’s stubborn. As always.

“No words.” You start blinking rapidly, biting your lower lip involuntarily. But, he noticed that and raised an eyebrow in response. You felt your body start to sweat, especially your back and between your legs. You felt like someone had chained you, because you could no longer move your gaze away from him, neither your body.

You wanted to follow his every move, count his every breath. Levi Ackerman, you are hotter than the Colossal Titan right now. You noticed that the edge of his shirt around his neck had shifted apart, revealing part of his collarbone.

He was probably smart. He already knew what effect he had on you before you realized it yourself. But, what’s the point? You’re already lost.

His gaze changed extremely subtly. He looked at your lips, your cheeks, your forehead. His palm left your cheek but pushed aside a lock of gold hair that was tickling your nose. Your lips parted instinctively, longing for his touch for so long.

He raised an eyebrow again, and you could swear you saw an invisible smirk on his lips before he leaned over you. In the next seconds, you started to enjoy the kiss placed on your small forehead. You closed your eyes gently, already missing that soft touch. Was it that short?

“Yes, I’m glad you’re alive. But stop being greedy, brat. I'll forgive you. Just this time.” His stoic expression will haunt you in your dreams anyway. You can’t escape, because you want him to come back tomorrow.

And he will.

[shattereddarknessau]

…. *the mysterious skeleton turns to face you*

So… it’s you huh….? I suppose you’re here to listen to this unfortunate backstory? Perhaps here to grant me your pity?

Now……I suppose I could tell you what happened. Not that I highly doubt you’ll be interested……hm? What’s that? …..You are?

…..*sighs* Fine. If you insist. I shall tell you the story of how Rubytale ceased to be. *the mysterious skeleton reaches for the book, and begins reading the story*

“Once apon a time, two races ruled the land, humans…and monsters. The two races were ruled by two leaders King Topaz, and Queen Aquamarine. One day, The Crystal Ruby of Balance grew out of control, causing the entire AU to vanish of the maps, and...” *he stops reading for a second*

Wait a minute….*the mysterious skeleton  turns to the pages, to find false information*No….T-This is not right. It’s all wrong. Nothing in this book is right! It doesn’t talk about the REAL story at all. They’re leaving out the tragic events of his childhood. There was no “King Topaz”, damn those delusional authors. Always spreading lies about history.

…. They’re choosing to forget what REALLY happened to my people. *he disintegrates the book of lies*

I think it’s about time you learn the real story of Rubytale, the true tale.

On day, a selfish soul decided to steal the crystal to absorb its magic for their own greedy desires, oblivious to the horrible fate they have brought upon innocent people.

The crystal was the only thing keeping the world together, it was known to guarded for centuries, people praised the crystal, as if it were a might god, however, the guards had grew lazy over time, letting it slip into the wrong hands.

To the sound of footsteps approaching, the selfish soul dropped the 2,000 year old crystal on the ground and ran away in a panic to save their own skin, leaving the AU and the damaged artifact behind. The guards came back to see what the selfish individual had done.

“Oh the horror, The Crystal Ruby of Balance has been damaged, we’re all done for!!” said one of the guards in a state of fear. In a moment of despair and sadness, they dropped to their knees and begged the magic crystal for forgiveness, but it was too late.

A bright glow begin to emerge from the crystal, blinding everyone in the room, it rose to the sky like a big shining star, and began striking everything in its path.

An emergency evaluation was scheduled that morning, screams of terror can be heard all across New Home City, the crystal blocked the light of the sun itself, causing the sky to become too bright for the eyes…

Broken pieces of the crystal had formed into giant meteors that came crashing down on buildings and homes. By the afternoon, the entire city was destroyed, with some civilians injured and others killed.

The last remaining survivors ran and ran as fast as they could, yet they were no much for the rubies destructive power. No one was spared, and they were wiped out without a trace.

……

….My apologies, I shall keep reading for you.

The queen simply watched, frozen in horror of watching the entire earths population in the AU parish so easily. She knew there was not enough time left, so she grabbed her ten year old son and used her last remaining bit of magic to send him to a safe place somewhere in the multi-verse.

She had a granted him a staff as well known as ‘The summoner’ which will allow him to summon any Sans at his disposal to help him in time of need as well as travel to other worlds.

However, the child couldn’t get it to work, no matter how hard he tried. He was sent to void between the fabric of time known as the “Timespace”, it was like an empty canvas, nothing to see yet.

With his world gone forever and everyone he cared about, he cried for hours and hours, he screamed for help, he sat for hours hoping someone would COME TO HIS AID AND TELL HIM THAT EVERYTHING WAS GOING TO BE OKAY….that he was safe now….that someone now cares for him…

..And yet….NOBODY CAME… “Where is my savior?” he said…

“Where was my happy ending damn it?! I don’t deserve to suffer like this!” The child shouted in a fit of rage.

“The story is incomplete there has to be more to it than this… this can’t be my fate. It just can’t be, someone has to come for me, they just gotta!”

The child repeatedly said to himself every day, hoping to keep his sanity alive, as the the days became weeks, and the weeks became months, and months became years.

The years of isolation and loneliness took every last bit of a motion that poor child had left in his heart, he grew emotionless, dull, unable to smile again. He swore to kill the bastard responsible, and when he did, he would bathe in their blood.

And would you like to know who the child was?

That child….was ME….

The End of Dark’s Backstory.

(P.S The art was drawn by his younger self to explain his POV of the story and how it affected him badly)

Original Rubytale by (rubytale-chapter2)

[maylorscardigan]

Reputation & TS11.

do you think Taylor will announce or drop Reputation in a few days? Do you think we will see TS 11 soon? I’m curious what your thoughts are with these because there’s been a lot of speculation with it lately. I don’t think she would do 1989 TV dirty like that. Please… thoughts.

*mumbles under breath*

NO.

I do not think we are getting Reputation as an announcement or as a drop this weekend. 1989TV is quite literally her most successful album debut of her career. She is NOT going to disrespect that album by doing that. 1989 TV / SV is her baby. It’s the album that changed her entire career.

So no.

Besides - anyone who truly knows anything about Reputation knows that she is not going to make it obvious. That’s the entire point of Reputation. It’s like the Reputation fans who thought she wasn’t actually going to release 1989 TV and just drop Reputation instead. There are so so so many things that would have gone wrong with that.

SNTV got a short period because when you look at it… while it didn’t have a long Era like Red TV or Fearless TV… it got A LOT. It got a night dedicated to it with the guest appearances and the music video etc. Red and Fearless were released outside of the Eras tour so they got a longer stretch. That being said - she is giving 1989 TV longer.

When she announced 1989 TV she performed “New Years Day” from Reputation and that in itself could be an Easter Egg. If she was going to stick to the 112 day thing then she could announce Reputation on New Years Day and release it for February 16th, 2024. This would give it 46 days of promotion before a release.

Is it possible she just drops Reputation on New Years? No. It’s a Monday. Not to mention a holiday. Logistics nightmare if you ask me.

I am to laugh my ass off if the next album announced is Debut, closing with Reputation towards the end of the tour. Why? It’s exactly something that Taylor would do. Reputation Taylor at least. But I won’t get into my theories as to why I think Debut could be coming next.

As for TS 11…. I don’t see it coming before Eras wraps. The entire concert if designed around her first 10 albums. A LOT would need to be cut and redone to fit a new album into the concert. Not to mention all the work that has already gone into it with the movie and all that. She has a year left of touring with 2024. Two re-records to still get released. She is finishing off the Eras tour with those released then anything going forward will be TS11 and beyond. Releasing TS 11 during Eras would be such a bad business decision. New Albums deserve their own time. Just like Midnights had separate from the tour.

I think fans have become extremely greedy. She dropped two albums in a year with folklore and evermore because there was literally a pandemic going on and she had nothing else to do. Fans want all the re-records on top of each other. They want a new album - all while a world tour is going on. Like… come on guys. She is Taylor Swift, yes. She’s a bit of a super hero. I get it. But she’s still human all the same. Stop demanding so much from her all the time.

Since 2020, we have gotten:

• folklore

• evermore

• fearless tv

• red tv

• midnights

• speak now tv

• 1989 tv.

That is SIX albums. And fans just want more and more and more and more. Other artists… they’ve released one… maybe two if you’re really lucky. Some of released none and are working on one now. You also complain that the sound between 1989 tv and Midnights is too similar but you want TS 11 and Reputation like right now yet if it sounds similar you’ll complain about that… give it a rest and be THANKFUL fans for getting 6 albums in under 3.5 years AND a massive world tour with a three and a half hour show.

Disagree? Cool.

But the vultures need to back off.

((Note: when I say you in the post I do not mean the anonymous directly. I’m speaking about fans in general))

[timelessduet]

For Victor: 4th Entry

Happy birthday to our grand miracle in life, Victor Li.

Sweet Serenity

How does one get rest? Most people get it by sleeping… some by doing what they are passionate about… and others by just being in the presence of their beloved.

What about Victor? How does LFG’s successful CEO find time to rest despite being known as probably the most workaholic person in Loveland City?

MC: Knock, knock. How is Mr. Victor doing?

Hearing the girl’s voice, Victor turned off the monitor with interview questions before turning his attention to her.

Victor: A certain dummy seems to be slacking off today. I believe she told me she’d do her best to be more productive as a New Year’s resolution. 

MC: I am being more productive, my dear CEO. I’ve been out and about these past few days and… is it wrong to miss you? 

She was teasing in her tone but Victor didn’t mind indulging her every once in a while.

Victor: Mmm so you do admit that you’ve become a workaholic instead of working at a healthy pace. Who was the one who told me to get some rest more and not work like a horse?

MC: That’s… hmpp maybe this was a bad idea. Goldman told me you didn’t have anything on your schedule this afternoon so I decided to visit but… I’ll probably leave then.

Why does it seem like Goldman is becoming more of her secretary than mine? Victor silently thought before letting out a soft sigh.

Victor: And here I had already planned a bountiful dinner later this evening at Souvenir. Maybe I should just cancel that and have Goldman reschedule my meetings for today then.

He knew everything there is to know about this one girl and there is no question that she will always have a soft spot for food… specifically his cooking. MC stopped in her tracks and gave him a hopeful look.

MC: On second thought, I am an understanding girlfriend aside from being an amazing producer. I don’t mind the least waiting for you no matter how long it takes.

MC: How I missed the great chef of Souvenir’s cooking! And of course, pudding.

Victor: The gluten is full again. I’m glad. 

Rest… Peace… Tranquility… Maybe it was when she eats everything he cooks happily despite claiming she needs to go on a strict diet. 

MC: I am not a gluten. The food is just too delicious. We should never deny blessings as the elder say, right? But Victor… 

There was a long pause before it was continued.

MC: Did you know a friend got in touch with me today? She’s from Loveland Business Magazine. 

Victor quietly listened to MC as she spoke already having an idea where the conversation was headed.

MC: She asked me if you don’t mind answering the question they gave you for an interview? If the question was a bit intrusive, they said you didn’t have to answer it. I wanted to know what the question was but my friend told me it was up to you if you’d share it with me. 

Victor: That friend of yours must be smart to not let you know. A dummy shouldn’t be too nosy. 

She was just too kind and oblivious sometimes. Victor knew people would try whatever they can to get close to him whatever means necessary even if it meant going through the people he loved her. But then, even if he worried, there was no doubt in his mind MC could handle herself. The trust they had for one another was built in this lifetime.

Victor: About the sample question… it has something to do with how one rests. 

MC: That question does suit a workaholic capitalistic tyrant such as yourself, CEO Victor. I’m sure the citizens of Loveland are also indeed curious about how you rest while handling a business empire.

MC can’t help but let out a small giggle. Even though she is coquettish at times, she spreads happiness and light into his days life.

Victor: Not going to ask me what my answer is?

MC: After knowing you for so long, I’m sure you’ll let me know if you want to. It’s fine I suppose. I’ll just have to buy the magazine to know. My friend and their magazine will have a boost in sales thanks to a certain greedy cat.

Victor: A dummy through and through. If there’s anyone who knows the answer to how I rest, that would be you.

Hearing this, the girl’s face reddened before thoughtlessly shifting the conversation to another topic. 

MC: CEO Victor is his own person. What I think may be different from yours. It’s always been that way but of course, not all the time. Anyway, he should really also stop asking me too much. After all, I still have a lot to learn from the most successful person in Loveland.

Victor: I believe I need to learn more from you on the aspect of birthday surprises that are not as subtle as to speak. Indeed there is still a lot of you to learn including the element of keeping surprises a secret. 

Victor was the one who had an upcoming birthday surprise but it seemed as though MC was the one left in shock. There really was nothing that the girl can hide from Victor. 

Gazing tenderly to MC’s flabbergasted form, Victor always knew the response to that question.

Rest could be obtained through various forms. Sleep, relaxation, hobbies, work, passion, travel, love… Every single person has their own kind of rest.

Looking back, there was a time where his rest still involved working himself to the bone. Maybe throwing in some hobbies from cooking, equestrian, and fencing. 

But for Victor now? Rest is a person. 

Rest is her. Her scent, her voice, her feelings, and her love.

The serenity in his life.

[Author’s Note]: It’s been a long while since I’ve written stories for him. Although a day late, I wish my favorite mlqc guy a happy birthday. May our little Vic, MC, as well as all of you guys stay happy today and every day. 

[angrenwen]

"A healer’s first duty was to heal, you had read that over and over during your studies. It was the first sentence on nearly every spellbook and spell-scroll.

When you had passed your exams with flying colors, you had set out into the world with determination and a bright smile on your face.

Maybe, things wouldn’t have changed if you hadn’t become friends with a group of adventurers while you worked at a small clinic. Maybe, things wouldn’t have changed if they hadn’t come back to you in pieces and if you hadn’t seen their mutilated bodies.

It certainly wouldn’t have changed if you hadn’t met that elf. She had found you just as you had started to dig graves for your friends. Friends who had had no one else, whose families were long dead or distant or unknown.

They had been people who had built themselves up from the streets they had grown up in or from the ashes of their old lives. They had taken their broken pieces and had built something better out of it.

The elf was beautiful, as all elves were and the moment you met her gaze, you knew she had seen far more suffering than you had. Had buried more friends than you. She knew your pain and even though she said not a single word, you broke down crying.

Silently, she gently took the shovel from your hands and started to dig and you sat there, on damp earth and cried and cried, as a stranger finished burying your friends.

Afterwards she helped you up, took you to a fountain to get washed up. When she spoke, her voice was soft and melodic, her hands warm and gentle and calloused and scarred.

She was a healer like you, extensively trained in many fields, from magical healing to field surgery and medicine making. You didn’t quite remember what you said, but the next day, you had a bag packed and you followed her.

From her, you learned so much more than anyone had ever taught you. You learned that the dosage was what made the poison, that every medicine could be used to kill. That a cut to save a life could also be made to take it.

You learned it all as you followed her from town to town, from village to village, treating the victims of a cruel lord, the survivors of a bandit attack, the nearly-dead children who had been sacrificed by the mayor at a blood altar in the name of the gods.

She always left quickly again and you never heard from the lord or the bandits or the mayor again. It hardly struck you as strange, not with how much more there was to do.

A war broke out, because sooner or later one always did, for people in high places were too greedy by far and they did not see the people they killed and the homes they destroyed, they only saw the fame and glory and riches they could gain.

Everything won was blood-soaked, but blood had the same color as royal-red at the end of the day, so who could truly tell the difference?

You followed her into this war and there you learned that healing someone too quickly caused them to die. Their bodies couldn’t keep up with the brutal rush of magic, with the way flesh was forced to knit itself closed in a flash, bones snapping into place with more violence than they had been broken with.

And when she led you to the leader’s tent, to the nobles who were responsible for it all, you learned that you could stop a heart from beating just as surely as you could restart it.

“My path is not a kind one,” she told you as you sat with her on a hill far from the battlefield, watching the armies stand still for the first time in months as people were desperate to haggle for a treaty now that their bloodthirsty leaders were gone.

“This is not a kind world,” you answered and when you looked down at your hands, you realized that yours started to look like hers. From holding scalpels and grinding pestles and picking plants that could become medicine or poison at your discretion.

“If you start doing this, you’ll never stop,” she told you, a last warning. “Because you won’t know when to stop.”

You thought of your friends, hacked to pieces, of tired and worn and scared soldiers who died under your hands because you either healed them this instant and hoped they made it, or they died anyway from their terrible injuries.

Of silence at the frontline, right now, after a night of murdering.

You thought of how you never again heard from cruel lords and bandit groups and mayors and clerics and anyone else who had decided to sacrifice their people in the name of one thing or another.

You knew, then, what she had done all this time and why she had always left so quickly the next day. Of the people who were safer now because of her, who wouldn’t need her services unless their own foolishness or nature’s wild will injured them.

“That’s alright,” you said quietly.

A healer’s first duty was to heal, you remembered that vividly. It was written in every book and you had said it as part of your vows when you had passed your exams.

You were a healer, a mighty fine one by now, but you knew your view on the world had grown skewed. You had followed her too long, you had seen too much blood and pain and suffering.

You had seen how effective it was to heal people straight into death and put a stop to cruelty, to bloodshed, to suffering.

“Let’s go then,” she said softly. She always spoke softly, always spoke kindly to those who needed her. There was an endless well of compassion with in her and, on the other side of it, an equally endless well of ruthlessness.

The two of you were cut from the same cloth at the end of the day.

Maybe it was wrong what you did. Maybe you took the chance of change and growth and remorse from the people you killed. They could never truly be punished for their crimes or try to make up for them.

But…maybe that was alright. Maybe, in a world colored so many shades of gray, a world that had allowed callous, cruel, terrible people to breed like rabbits…

Maybe it was time to unleash some wolves."

“You’re a healer. Actually, you’re the best healer in the world… so how do you have more kills than everyone else in your party combined?” “Simple. I heal.”

[lloyd283]

Welcome one and all to spooky surprise no1. Dare you face the likes of ghostface, Agatha harkness or our terrifying sideshow acts? Maybe you’d like to meet Pauline phoenix or the terrifying ringmaster? Or maybe fend for yourself against an unstoppable horde? Yes, surprise 1 is none other than a custom fortnitemares.

Set during season IV (corrupted), the corrupted king has twisted nature into a terrifying catalyst of mayhem as a zombie outbreak occurs. Meanwhile, dr odd fellow arrives to take over a circus full of menancing foes. All the while, Pauline phoenix beckons you to regain her physical form.

The horde awakes:

Horde rush is dead. In its place a new experience where 100 players drop into a game. However, after elimination, players will become infested by old overgrowth from the herald and seek to eliminate all players. 40 remaining players will have to complete tasks to escape before the horde and the storm combine! This time, there’s no reboots. Instead 5 vials of antidote will spawn, allowing your fallen allies to return to fight alongside you. More common temporary immunity vials will allow timed immunity up to 1 minute or stop an attempted infection. Hot spots will be crawling with undead, so it’s advised to drop as a team wherever you may roam. Escape and be rewarded with the infected umbrella and exclusive loading screen with spray.

The carnival bizarre:

Before you started fighting, the island held a carnival, full of bizarre and wonderful sights, until one day Kevin crushed the fairgrounds. The ringmaster couldn’t move on from this tragedy, so when dr odd fellow offered her the chance to correct things, she agreed, turning her into a vengeful beast and taking over the carnival. Step inside to witness these twisted acts and seek odd fellow’s cane of souls.

First, you must survive and win a mini game in the tent before proving your worth. Do so, and you will gain the cane of souls. Dealing spray damage, the cane will deal small bursts of damage or one prolonged deadly blast. That’s not all, as you’ll also gain 20% of the damage as siphon! Pair with odd fellow’s medallion to double your intake! Don’t get too greedy though, as unhealed damage will hurt you.

Hit a dead end?:

The zero point has rifted in the dead end residence from pheonix parks as well as a few rotating rides. Inside, pauline wants you for her new vessel and will try everything to do so. However, thanks to the zero point, Pauline is bound by rules that means you must pass three trials: Thought, offence and defence. Beat these trials to earn a pauline token, allowing you to revive with a slot item after 30 seconds ONCE. Best Pauline in a duel to earn an extra token for your squadmate. Find bonapart's choker to half the wait time and keep two slotted items. Also here, you can converse with characters from the show to earn seasonal weapons such as the chainsaw, witch broom and wood stake shotgun.

Elsewhere, find the pumpkin lord to challenge him for a mythic pumpkin launcher. Prefer a clean melee weapon? Purchase it from ghostface. Want a better weapon? Go to the O.A landing and trade it in for an upgrade. Be warned, rarity only increases by one tier and a one time trade per match.

Speaking of the O.A landing, land there as a crew member to earn early access to Lloyd's secret skin page. (The second skin will arrive next update.)

Treat yourself:

What's this? A special pass has woken with rewards such as carnival items and a very creepy glider. Purchase the premium pass to unlock dr odd fellow immediately and access to extra rewards such as his prized cane, a dance you'll lose yourself in and the twisted scientist skin.

Want more rewards? Complete overall pass challenges to earn progress towards a pugsley back bling, twisted blade pickaxe and more...

That's not all. This year sees new frights and old chills return to the item shop. Pick up the carnival troope and ghostface during week one. Week two brings Barney, Pauline, Badyah and logs to the item shop with October's purchase reward: Courtney showing up alongside them. Week three brings the pumpkin lord as well as Agatha and Wiccan. Your favourites will return to help these main acts shine.

(Heads up, Due to rest, the skull trooper and skull ranger will rest forever shortly after the event concludes to make way for fresh looks. A special farewell shop offer will arrive in early november before the next update.)

[Okay, i would put norma khan as either the crew pack for October or in the season VII battle pass. Don't worry, gord arrives as her back bling.]

[peoplesgraves]

What The Main Ghouls Are Like As Yanderes

Frankie

Frankie is so sweet and it’s really not her fault that she becomes obsessed with you. She’s only been alone for a couple weeks, how is she supposed to know that her obsession isn’t normal if no one tell her? Frankie’s lack of experience translates to all parts of your relationship. From her standing in the rain with a boom box and then consequently short circuiting to her Valentine’s Day filled with chocolates and teddy bears just like she’s seen in the movies. She probably shocks you the first time you kiss because she’s so excited. She follows you around like a lost puppy because you’re the person she trusts most, you’ll teach her and take care of her and she’ll do the same for you.

Draculara

Draculara is a lot like Frankie, but unlike Frankie draculaura doesn’t have the luxury of youth to hide behind. She’s super clingy and will always be hanging off of your arm or asking for piggy back rides. She picks out all your clothes and probably has more then a few outfits so you two can match. She sits on your lap in the creepateria and hides her face in your neck when she sees anything non vegetarian. Draculara is very manipulative, if she catches wind that you’re upset or rethinking the relationship then she’ll bring up Valentine complete with crocodile tears.

Clawdeen

Clawdeen is very chill. Like the most possessive thing she’ll do is always make sure she has an arm round your shoulders or is holding your hand. She’s really cutesy too, she���ll put a finger in your belt loop or squish your cheeks while telling you how cute you are. She’d be a really good person to talk to and definitely gives the best advice of all the main ghouls because hers is the least clouded by obsession. Clawdeen would be ok with you having friends outside of her own as long as she meets them first and makes sure they’re ok.

Lagoona

Lagoona would be very manipulative. She’ll use her Australian twang and overall bubbly,kind personality to subtly push you in whichever direction she pleases. She’s really good at exploiting your fears and weaknesses without you realizing that she even knows they exist. Her love language would be to take care of you in the best ways she knows how. Making sure she packs a healthy lunch for you and waking you up at a reasonable time with a super sweet message .

Cleo

Cleo is unapologetic about her yandere traits. It’s not that she thinks they’re ok it’s more so that she just doesn’t care. She’d like to think that if they start impacting you negatively she’d be able to stop but she can’t know for sure. She’ll use her influence to socially isolate anyone she deems unworthy of you and her. All her friends become your friends and all her hobbies become yours. With Cleo it starts to feel like you’re losing yourself and just becoming her. She’s very needy and greedy. She monopolizes your time worse then any one else. She’ll buy you gifts and throw parties to make up for it.

Ghoulia

Ghoulia as a yandere is very clingy and will follow you around pretty much all the time. She worn really control your choices or manipulate you but she’ll quickly become something of a stalker. She’ll carry your bag on the way to class, always has a bag of your favorite snack right when you need it and is happy to give you the answers to the homework you forgot. She also has a really high tolerance for being treated badly because of how close she is with Cleo. Like you could call her names in a time of overstimulation and she’d still be waiting outside the school for you with a smile.

[jarofstyles]

Feeling kinda h word and I can't stop thinking about Harry playing with his lovie's pussy like caressing her lips and rubbing her clit here and there while they're watching a movie or reading and it's just so casual 😩 I'd die if you guys would write something based on this

Well… what a scene!

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

———

Harry had a problem.

Well, it wasn’t necessarily a problem considering it wasn’t causing too many issues. But to put it simply; he couldn’t keep his hands off of his girl.

It had started simple enough when the relationship had begun. He had always a touchy person, even when he was younger and it only got more intense as he aged. His girlfriends or boyfriends sometimes complained about it, funnily enough. He was described as clingy and maybe a bit smothering, and add into it a sexual attraction? He was relentless.

When Y/N came into his life though, he found his match. She never complained. Leaning into his touch and taking his hand first, making her home on his lap before he had to pull her into it. There was an unspoken agreement and he was thriving, flourishing with all his needs for touch being met. As time went on though, it started to get a lot less wholesome.

Sex between the pair was electric. They had it often and they experimented a lot, but Harry found that his main issue was the fact he couldn’t stop sliding his hands into her clothes. While she made dinner, he would come up behind her and slide his hands up the tee shirt she wore, cupping her bare breasts in his large palms. Feeling the soft, plush flesh against his skin and enjoying simply holding them, or thumbing over her nipples. Her head would fall on to his shoulder and try to continue cooking, letting him get his fill of touch.

A night like tonight was not uncommon. Y/N perched in his lap as they sat in the couch, her thighs hanging over his as she spread herself out. Her head rested against the crook of his neck, the TV playing some sitcom that they only half paid attention to. Wearing one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of silky sleep shorts was perhaps a set up. But it didn’t stop him from shamelessly cupping his hand over the mound, kissing the side of her head as he held it for a few moments.

Both of them knew what was going to happen, so it wasn’t a surprise to have Harry’s hands inside the shorts, fingers exploring her cunt. Gently pressing the lips together between his fingers and feeling how soft they were. The stickiness of her newfound arousal covering his fingers and palm, there was no shame in it at all. Just exploring the sensitive part of her, feeling her, unable to tear his hand away for longer than it took to sink the messy digits into his own mouth to suck them clean.

Her eyes watched his hand under the fabric, seeing the imprint of his rings as the methodically rubbed over the slit. The sight was way more erotic to her than anyone else could realize. His hand was warm, and he was relentless when he felt like he wanted to touch. It had been nearly half an hour of this, and he wasn’t even trying to tease. He was just enjoying himself.

At the opening credits for the second episode, his fingers finally settled on her clit. The bud now throbbing under the fingertips, he let out a breathy laugh as he smeared her arousal around it, lips pressing to her cheek. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t realize I made you so needy.” His lips puckered against her warm skin, rubbing in slow, steady circles. Her eyes fluttering closed as her hand grabbed his free one, tangling their fingers.

“So sweet to me. Letting me touch and play with your precious little pussy, angel. Such an peach.” He cooed, ever so gently pinching the bud between his fingertips and making her gasp. “Always so sensitive for me. M’so lucky, got the most perfect angel in the world. M’gonna make you feel good now, yeah? Were so good and patient.”

Y/N loved his touch. It had the power set her on fire and soothe all at once, a combination she hadn’t experienced and was positive she wouldn’t find again. She was going to keep him. His slightly calloused fingers rubbing her clit and his warm breath against her neck sent her into another headspace.

“Love your hands, so much. I love you. Never stop this.” She turned her head to kiss him, firmly pressing her lips against his. She could feel his smile against her mouth, the pleasure he had in making her feel so breathless evident in it.

“Never want to stop, my darling. You make me so happy… m’addicted to touching you. Never want anything else. Just your noises, your taste, your feel… only you.” He wouldn’t ever let her go if he had the chance. He had won the soulmate lottery and he could scream it from the rooftops.

The tv was on low and the sound was in the background, the main focus being their sweet whispers and the filthy sound of his fingers rubbing her wet pussy. The fingers were experts now in how to get her drenched, the lilac sleep shirts a bit see through now at the girl’s arousal. Her little whimpers against his mouth clued him in to her impending orgasm, her legs trying to close around his hand but he simply didn’t let that happen.

“Uh uh. You know how to do it. Know how I like you to cum.” He trailed his lips against her jaw again. “I can feel how close you are. Feels so good having my hands on your pretty cunt, I know. Almost too much, isn’t that right?” Her nod of agreement and breathing becoming labored made him smirk. “Yeah, my poor darling. So close, so close to cumming all over my fingers. You’ll clean my hand up this time, I think. Even the rings.” He nuzzled against her, pressing down a bit more firm on her clit and rubbing in faster circles.

“Oh- oh…. Harry…” she gasped, squeezing his hand as her hips bucked into his hand. That pressure in her stomach was building, building, being teased so long making her greedy for it. The pressure of his fingers changing is what sent her over the edge. “M’gonna- I’m….” She sobbed, throwing her head back as the pressure popped, orgasm pouring over and washing over her body like hot hot water. Her head thrown back on his chest, hips writhing in his lap, only anchored by his hold.

“Tha’s it. My beautiful girl, look so gorgeous when y’cum for me. Let go, lovie.” He slurred into her ear, the increase in arousal making his fingers even more slippery. He got drunk off of her pleasure too, feeling his body greedily absorb all of the thrashing and sobbed moans as he worked her through it. Nothing was more satisfying than bringing his lover to a sweet release, being the cause of the bubble of pleasure popping and pure euphoria washing over her. Harry was so greedy for it, he didn’t want to stop.

Her trembling body sagged in his arms, her hand moving from where it gripped his thigh to the wrist of the hand still on her cunt, sensitivity making her shudder. But when she tried to pull his hand away, he wouldn’t budge.

“Mm… no. I think you can handle one more.”

[stellariumcircus]

it's not my fault you don't like el p3 | byler fic

part one | part two | mike gets vecna'd, music doesn't save him.

Mike was safe, for now.

And it wasn’t music that had pulled Mike from Vecna’s curse. It had been Will, so they’d spent the last few days joined at the hip for most moments. 

“You didn’t tell me you were having headaches, or nightmares, or anything. Mike-” Will stopped. They were only friends. Mike was meant to be kept at a distance. Still, he had to ask. “What’s going on with you?”

Mike shook his head. His hands sit folded between the knobby poking out from his shorts. “You were there, with Vecna.”

“I was there?” Guilt was a taste he was familiar with, now, always on the back of his tongue. It tasted like buttery popcorn, bubbling soda, like rain that’s slid into the corner of your mouth in a downpour. 

He thought of the Upside Down, of being blindfolded, of his hands not quite being his hands anymore. Or maybe, worse than eldritch monsters, Mike had figured out the truth of the painting.

“Yeah. Yeah, you were there.” Mike didn’t look at him. “You said it wasn’t your fault that I don’t like El.” 

A chill crept up the back of his neck. He brushed it away by rubbing his palm against it. “What? That’s crazy. You love El.”

“Is it, though?” Mike scoffed. His hands folded tighter, white bone pressing close to the skin. “I don’t think it’s crazy at all.”

“Mike,” Will began. Mike may have not thought he deserved El, but he deserved the world. El was wonderful. Mike was wonderful. They could be wonderful together, and feel wonderful things. “You know what El thinks of you.”

“Yeah, I know what she thinks of me. It’s what I think of her.” He crossed his arms over his stomach, a shield over his softest parts. “I thought I’d feel it, you know. After you told me all the stuff with the painting, and then I did it. I said what she wanted to hear, it didn’t fix it. I didn’t fix it. I really wanted to believe it, too, you know? And it’s so stupid, because she almost died, Max basically is dead, Eddie’s gone, we got to live, and now we’re broken up, and the world is ending. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid.”

Stupid, stupid. He remembered those words, knives on his tongue, razors in his throat, while he knocked down Castle Byers. 

Will straightened. He wasn't sure when it could've happened. “You’re broken up?”

Mike’s shoulders jerked, noncommittal. “Yeah. I guess. It feels serious this time. Like, before, it was silly. It was funny. This time, you know, it’s kinda. Real.”

Will hated to hurt, like anyone would. But even more, he hated to see Mike hurt. “Mike. She broke up with you before, didn’t she? I’m sure you’ll get back together, if you talk to her.”

“No, no. That’s the thing, here. I don’t want to get back together.” His shoulder turned away with his head, spine following the graceful movement of his jaw. “You were right, Will. What you said when you got me out. I think I’ve known it too, this whole time. El doesn’t need me.”

Carbonated guilt fizzed on the back of his tongue. He would not be the reason their happiness was ruined. “That’s not true. I shouldn’t have said that. I was saying anything I could think of to get you down.”

“But you were right. She doesn’t need me. She needs, I don’t know. Hopper, and your Mom, and you. I always needed her more because it made me-” he stopped short. He took an enormous breath, greedy for air, pulse jumping in his throat. “You were right before, too. In the dream, nightmare. Vision. Whatever. I mean, it wasn’t you. It was Vecna. One. Did we ever figure out what to call him?” 

Will felt his eyebrows raise. “You think Vecna is giving you excellent relationship advice.”

“Well, dude,” He tossed his hands up, exasperated, like rolling figurines and dice across a board. “That makes it sound stupid.”

“It is kind of stupid.” It should’ve been funny. Why wasn’t it funny, anymore?

“No, Will,  I don’t think Vecna should become a shrink as a backup career if taking over the world doesn’t work out so well for him,” Mike said, which was such a Mike answer that it was hard to feel bad for him even when his face looked a little bit like the aftermath of a storm. “But at least it was true, you know?”

Maybe the time apart had changed everything. For the first time, Will didn’t understand Mike. “I’m sorry, I’m not following. What part of the curse speech Vecna gave you was true?”

Mike finally looked at him, then, and gave him a look that could wither flowers. “He was right. I don’t like El. Or at least I don’t want to get married and live in the suburbs going to PTA meetings. And it isn’t your fault. It’s mine.” His eyes softened, glare slipping into an expression Will had never had a name for. “Or, I don’t know. I guess it’s a little your fault.” 

Will leaned away. He held his breath. Will didn’t hope anymore, and he didn’t now.  “How is it my fault?” 

“Because, I don’t know. It just feels like…” Mike groaned, back crashing back onto the bed. He landed, wrist pressed over his eyes. “I thought being in love,” he said the word love quieter, like it was a secret, “was going to be a better version of, you know. When we hang out it’s like we could stay up all night laughing on your floor. Like that, but better.”

“So get El to play D&D with you?” 

“What if it doesn’t get better than that, for me, though?” His wrist stayed over his eyes, hiding. Will watched, waited for it to move. It stayed, shielding. “What if, for me, love is just…Playing D&D for the rest of our lives.”

All the terror he had seen in the last few years, still none of it could hold a candle to the beat of his heart now. “Isn’t there more than that?” 

“I don’t think so. What if we started a new party?” Mike sat up, and his shield came down in the process. Face no longer hidden, they saw eye to eye. “You and me.”

You and me. Will and Mike. The words had grown so close together, so thoroughly tangled branch to root that they were synonyms. “Impossible,” Will said, throat closing around his voice.  This wasn’t what he hoped it was. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to play with just two people?”

Mike looked at him, turning towards the light. He had a face an artist could love, could carefully craft dark eyes from charcoal, could lovingly chisel cheekbones from marble. “Are you saying we wouldn’t make a good party?” His eyebrows drew together even as his mouth smiled, like he shared Will’s confusion. “Come on, wizards and paladins go great together.”

Will swallowed. It was not unfamiliar, to feel his throat like a vice, his eyes heat, his brow furrow. He began to turn his face away, to hide it, to put everything away where at least no one, no one, and especially not Mike would see it-

And then, warm fingertips pressed to his jaw. It was the lightest of touches, but it didn’t take more than a suggestion for Will to look his way. 

“Don’t do that. No more hiding.” 

Will nodded, letting out the smallest sniffle. Still, too loud. 

He wanted to move, he really did. But everything was tight, locked, chaining him to the one thing he knew; making himself small.

Will didn’t have to meet Mike in the middle, though. It was Mike whose hand pressed flat to his jaw, Mike who closed the gap between them, Mike who stole the breath off Will’s lips with the press of his own.

And it was also Mike who pulled away first. His hand fell from his jaw, only to worry at the fabric of Will’s shirt instead. “So,” Mike began, nervous and smiling and nervous all over again. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Will got out. He didn’t think he had ever cried in a happy way before. “I’ll join your party.”

His hand set over Will’s. Fingers a bit like birch branches, pale and elegant, wrapped through the gaps in his own. He squeezed, and did not let go. Will squeezed back. “You and me.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist The Colours  -  3/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader 

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Injuries, Death,

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: Oof another thing is finished. I’m gonna start actually finishing stuff but Idk what to write I’m sad that my stuff is ending :( But I hope you enjoy this!

~*~

The door to your cell gets wrenched open, pulling you from your light sleep.

“You!” Rumlow snarls, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you to your feet.

“Where have they taken my prisoners?” You furrow your brows, yanking out of his grip.

“How am I supposed to know? I was left behind.” He grinds his teeth together and grabs your bicep, dragging you out of your cell and onto the main deck.

The clouds are dark and gloomy, the waters wild and violent, but not by your doing.

“You must’ve helped them, that other witch too! So tell me, how did you do it?” He shoves you and you gasp, tumbling onto the wet wood of the deck.

“How could I have helped them? You have me chained up like a dog!” You spit, glaring up at him. He stoops down to your level, grabbing your face harshly.

“You will watch your tongue or you will lose it. You do not need your voice to do my bidding.” He shoves you back down and you bite back a yelp of pain.

The sky darkens further, thunder booming and clouds rolling in.

“I will never do your bidding!” You snarl, a flash of lightning punctuating your words.

Rumlow’s eyes widen for a moment, and then he’s got his sword pointed at you, the tip just brushing your throat.

“On your feet, witch!” You obey, standing up with your chin held high.

“You will do my bidding, or you will join all those who you have sent to the depths. It is your choice.” You follow his gaze over your shoulder to where the plank is being extended over the raging ocean.

You look back at him, jaw set, and he knows you’ve made your decision.

The wind whips around your hair as he walks you to the plank, his sword digging into your back just hard enough to cause discomfort, but not pain, not yet.

You carefully step onto the plank, taking deep breaths of the salty air as the water rages beneath you.

“I will give you one last chance, wench. I will spare your life, all you need do is swear your powers to me. You’ll have the sea back in your grasp, the power to do what you please. You need only do so at my side.”

Raindrops splatter against your face, just gently at first, until you’re consumed in an intense storm, the water pelting down against you.

“You’ve forgotten, Captain, that you are not sending me to the depths,” you look over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “you are sending me home.”

You look down at the water, preparing yourself for the cool embrace, when a particularly harsh wave rocks against the ship, sending you stumbling back a step.

A wave rises up over the ship, a spiral of green swirling inside of it and for a moment you think that you’ve already died.

The wave crashes against the ship, sending the men falling and scrambling, submerging the deck for a moment.

But you stay rooted in place, the familiar green hue just touching your fingertips, the ends of your hair, then slowly becoming part of you once more.

You hear the men shouting and coughing, feel Rumlow’s sword pressed against your back once again, but you only turn around to face him.

The storm continues, the waves fighting the ship, and you cock your head to the side, sending a gust of wind towards the man threatening you. He stumbles back, eyes wide with fear.

“H-how do you...” You take slow steps towards him, waving your hand behind you as his crew-mates try to run at you. The wind pushes them back, keeping them a safe distance from you and the captain.

“You will give me answers and you will give them to me now!” You hiss, glaring daggers at him.

“Whatever it is that you wish to know, I will tell you. Just please, spare my life.”

You watch him for a long moment, fighting tears as the question bubbles out of you.

“Why? Why did he do it?”

Rumlow only shakes his head, on his knees and ready to beg for mercy.

“’twas me... I caused him to do it. With the help of a siren for the price of his left arm, I got the binding spell from him. He knew not what he was doing, though he gave the information.” You let out a shaky breath, a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“All this time I had thought it was he who betrayed me... but it wasn’t.” You turn your gaze to him, eyes glowing green with the influx of power.

“It was you. You and your greed.” He shakes his head and scrambles back desperately.

You step aside as a sword comes down right where you were standing, and Rumlow uses your momentary distraction to sprint away.

“Kill her! Kill the Witch!” He shouts, grabbing his own sword.

You shake your head, the wind whipping strong enough to keep them away.

A nagging in your mind stops you for a moment, and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“The King and his men stole the queen from her bed... and bound her in her bones.” Your voice travels on the wind.

“The seas be ours, and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam.”

“Captain! We’ve got a ship coming up starboard!” A man shouts, pointing his sword at the familiar ship.

“They’re upon us! Battle stations!” The men scramble to their stations, trying to get prepared as the ship approaches.

“Yo ho, all hands, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die.” The voices ring out to you clear as day, responding to the call.

It’s only a matter of moments before canons start firing and men start boarding the ship, swords clashing and guns firing.

Your eyes scan the crowd, freezing on a man approaching you. You simply look at him and he crumples to the ground, grabbing at his throat.

“Rumlow!” You shout, following your instincts up to the foredeck and finding the captain cowering, exactly how you thought he would.

“You want to throw me overboard, captain?” You sneer his title, taking another step towards him. He stumbles back, slipping on the wet wood and scrambling away from you and towards the main deck.

“You forget that I am the sea and all things in it.”

The rain pelts down on you and the wind whips your hair around your face wildly, your eyes glowing green with the force of your power.

At that moment, you look every bit the sea goddess that the stories described. And today, you’re planning on being just as cruel.

“You stripped me of my purpose, my power. Bound me to my form and took away my reason for existence! You sacrificed the man I love for your own greedy gain. What do you have to say for yourself?” Your powers protect you from the fighting around you, the man before you protected as well.

No one will take your vengeance from you.

“I’m sorry!” He cries, slipping back further.

You shake your head and grab him by the front of his tunic, tossing his sword aside and glaring into his eyes.

“No, you’re not. Not yet. But you will be, that I promise you.”

You cock your head to the side, your free hand coming up, fingers flexed.

The water on the deck swirls around your ankles, clawing up the man before you.

“You’ve never had your purpose taken from you because a man like you has no purpose.” You twist your wrist, controlling the water around you and watch in satisfaction as his eyes widen, the water rising up over his face.

“So what else can I take, but your life?” You ask rhetorically, watching as the water trickles into his mouth and nose, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

He tries to claw at you, but his hands can’t reach you. His struggles are futile, though that doesn’t stop him.

You steal the life away from him, exactly the way he did to you.

He collapses on the ground, his body convulsing for a moment before falling still, death embracing him.

You take a deep breath, embracing your freedom, then slowly turn around.

You’re instantly meet with piercing blue eyes staring at you from across the ship. His chest is heaving and he’s squinting through the downpour, but his eyes are on you.

You walk over to him, the rain lessening with each step you take until you’re right in front of him.

The wind dies down and the ocean becomes calm. The fighting around you draws to a sombre end, victory on the tip of your tongue.

His sword clatters to the ground, his hands finding yours ever so gently, his eyes filled with so many emotions.

“Gentlemen, the ship is ours!” Steve shouts, a smile on his face. You turn around, pulling Bucky’s arms around your waist as you watch the crew celebrate their success.

Your eyes find Wanda’s and Tony’s through the crowd, both of them smiling brightly up at you.

The two crews celebrate, Pirates and Kingsmen, and you can’t help but smile at them.

“Back to the ship! We’ve gotten what we came for. The King can enjoy plundering Rumlow’s ship. I trust that will keep him off of our back for a while, yes?” Steve looks at Tony pointedly and the brunet nods.

You step out of your lover’s arms and walk down to the two men, one hand gently finding Tony’s forearm.

“I owe you a debt, Tony. One I fear I may never be able to repay.” He shakes his head, taking your hands gently in his and smiling at you.

“You’ve no debt to be paid. But if you feel so inclined, could you maybe hold back any storms for the next day or so? I’d like a chance to dry my clothes.” You giggle and nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, for all that you’ve done for myself and Wanda.” He gives you a tender smile and nods.

“It’s what I wish had been done for my mother.” He sniffles then straightens up.

“Now come on, men. It’s time we return to the King!” His crew-mates start busying themselves quickly.

“Alright lads, back to the ship!” Steve calls, leading his own crew members to their ship.

You watch as everyone eagerly crosses, smiling encouragingly at Wanda. She crosses swiftly, her eyes drawing to the helmsman for a moment.

“Are you ready?” A soft voice asks from behind you. You take a breath then nod, looking over at him.

“Yes.”

The two of you cross back to his ship, the ship almost cooing at you as soon as your feet hit the deck. You can’t fight the smile the spreads on your face at being back, and you don’t try to.

“It’s good to have you back,” Steve says, giving you a nod. You do the same, sighing happily.

“It’s good to be back, Steve.” Bucky takes your hand then and tugs you gently towards his quarters.

The door closes softly behind you and you take a moment to reacquaint yourself with the room.

You can feel his eyes on you, the tension palpable but not unpleasant.

Without looking at him, you speak.

“Could you help me out of my gown? It’s far too heavy.” He walks towards you, untying the back and watching as the fabric slides down your body, leaving you only in your white slip.

His hands hesitantly trail over your skin, one cold and one hot and the contrast is so delicious.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, head falling to the side as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispers against your skin, spinning you around to face him.

You gaze up at him lovingly, one hand coming up to cup his jaw.

“Show me,” you whisper, leaning up to gently brush your lips over his.

“Show me how much you missed me. Give me a reason to clear the skies and calm the seas. Make me give us good wind and easy sail. Prove to me that you’re still worthy of my mercy.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing each one of your fingers then smiling.

“I’ll never truly be worthy of your mercy. But I am more than willing to both swear and prove my loyalty to you. I will give myself over to you; body, heart, mind, and soul.”

You look up at him tenderly, cupping his cheek gently.

“I will sail to the ends of the Earth for you, fight the gods if I need to. Anything to keep you in my arms.”

“My heart belongs to you, James. And never will it belong to anyone else.”

[valdomarx]

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup. 

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

-

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

-

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

-

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles. 

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement. 

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

-

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze. 

-

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. 

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always. 

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

-

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

-

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic. 

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

-

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth. 

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away. 

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

-

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach. 

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear. 

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?” 

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”