#fanific

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Why Do I Still Live In This Town?

@Chrysanthemum9484

Trent just wanted to sleep, unfortunately some ghosts and one ghost hunter are having a verbal and physical fight right outside his damn window. Trent is not impressed. Not at all.

“How dare you! No one lays a hand on my Maddie!”.

“Phantom! Why does the vampire ghost think I’m his!”.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s working on it!”.

“Working on it?!? Is this an on going problem! And!- oh he just blew up a building! Crap!”.

“Shit shit! Plasmius! You fucking dumbass! And yes! He! Uh! Might have tried to kill your husband a few times!”.

“WHAT!”.

“I’m not letting a buffoon ruin my true love!”.

“The only true thing about you is that you’re a fucking FRUIT LOOP!”.

“Absolutely NOT! Phantom! I give you permission to lift me up so I can shoot him!”.

“No! He’s got a cat! He’s better! Your guns are insane!”.

“This one only shoots potatoes! … Jack drained the other gun!”.

“See! A BUFFOON!”.

“I love my buffoon!”.

“At least we can all agree he is a BUFFOON!”.

“Then join me!”.

“No! Fuck you you douche-canoe and your shitty hair and your ugly ass car collection! Stop giving me dead badgers!”.

“Then become my live one!”.

“I’M DEAD!”.

“You both should have STAYED DEAD!”.

“GET BACK HERE! I WILL END YOU!”.

“END YOURSELF! THAT IS A POTTED FICUS YOU DUNCE!”.

“I’ve seen your grades! I am hardly the dunce here!”.

“Ghost don’t have brains! You’re both idiots! It’s on the fake palm tree!”.

“Oh you are GOING DOWN!”.

“Why did you cover ME in goop!?!”.

“HA!”.

“That’s a good look on you! Phantom!”.

“EAT MY ENTIRE UNSALTED ASS! PLASMI-ASS!”.

Trent glares murderously at his bedroom wall, stomping over to the window and shoving himself out of it with squeezed shut eyes just in case, “WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP! I’M TRYING TO SLEEP! FUCK!”. He instantly gets gooped by Mrs. Fenton, as he expected.

“Sorry!”.

“Do you! Or do you NOT! What me to keep this thing from eating your house!”.

“I don’t care about his crackerjack house!”.

“I’ll make you pay to fucking rebuild it then!”.

Trent growls angrily, “I DON’T CARE JUST LET ME SLEEP!”.

“NO!”.

“I’m trying to get this wrapped up as fast as I can! Mr. Trent!”.

“I’ve got you now!”.

“ZONE DAMN IT! DON’T!- AH FUCK!”.

Trent falls on his ass, sputtering, as the building shakes. Phantom coming intangibly in through the wall to grab his leg, “you can’t stay in here, sorry”

Trent starts smacking and slapping him, “no! I will sleep in rubble if I damn well have to!”.

“Invest in FUCKING EARBUDS!”.

Trent gets pulled through the wall, he’s still covered in goop just now with some fucking drywall dust added in.

“End! You foul thing! None shall touch my woman again!”; the vampire ghost is physically tearing apart a green plant-like ghost with his claws and teeth.

Mrs. Fenton hurls her gun at the vampire ghost’s head, “I am not your anything!”.

Phantom sighs and buries his head in his hands.

Trent glares at all of them, “well can I fucking SLEEP NOW!”

“You do you, jackass”.

“You can add the damages to the FentonWork’s tab! Sorry!”.

“Oh I’m not done yet!”.

“Shut up, Plasmius”.

Trent glares hard and just walks off to a bench, grabbing a shower curtain out of the rubble (it has laughing cat faces on it), and lays down to fucking sleep. Stupid fucking goddamn ghosts.

“BEWARE!”.

“FUCK!”, Trent gets flung off his bench and proceeds to mercilessly beat the Box Ghost with a tire iron he found on the ground.

End.

Prompt: "No! You do not hurt my (girl)friend and get away with it!" And <incert ghost name here>'eyes flashed dangerously.

[eryiss]

[Jet x Freed] Cubicle Capers - Chapter Five

Summary: Jet was meant to do more. He was meant to do something with his degree. He was meant to have a purpose. He'd taken a job at Grimoire Pharmaceuticals to work his way up into a lab position, but found himself stuck in a cubicle. Every day the same. At least he had a new boss coming. Freed Justine. He’d be like the rest, though. Boring, outdated and.. hot as hell?

Notes: The tension boils over, it’s time to get physical. Again, this was requested by @jethro-art.

Links: Ao3, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Epilogue

Chapter Five – The Shift

Jet

"So tell me old man," Jet began, voice dripping with condescension and arrogance. "I know that they didn't have electricity when you were a kid, but does it bother you that you're just so, so crap at playing video games?"

Freed stared Jet down with an unimpressed look. "You're two and a half years younger than me, Jet."

"That it, huh? Wow. You've aged terribly."

Jet loved making Freed laugh by insulting him. Freed was the kind of guy who could seemingly take any insult on the chin and laugh it off so long as he knew it was said in jest, and it was a very attractive quality. Jet loved a man who could laugh at himself, and the reluctant, slightly annoyed smile that Freed had long since stopped trying to hide away was a very handsome one indeed. It spoke of a self-assured man, as well as a promise of eventual retribution. Or maybe Jet was looking too far into it.

How would Freed take his retribution? Jet had to assume Freed had a vicious side. What would it be like to see that unleashed?

"You seem to forget that there's only three points between us, Jet," Freed said, voice smooth and promising something that Jet couldn't decipher. He very much wanted to find out what the promise was, though. "And out of the – what is it now, thirty-six? – thirty-six times we've done this, you've won exactly five times. Your record and your cockiness don't exactly tally."

"You know what does tally? The fact you're losing tonight, and I've got a hell of a forfeit in store for you."

"Oh I'm so terribly scared," Freed deadpanned.

Jet nudged him as they walked to the next arcades machine, a Tetris game that allowed two players to compete side by side. Not a good game for Jet, he always ended up absentmindedly playing with the joystick as the blocks were falling and sabotaged himself. A fun one, though. And one where Freed got cocky himself.

They'd been coming to the bar every Friday night after work for over half a year now, and it had long since been the part of Jet's week he looked forward to the most. They played every game, compared scores, and the loser did a stupid forfeit chosen by the winner. Jet typically lost. But that just made the victories better.

Having Freed walk into the office in a chicken morphsuit on a Monday morning without any explanations to the room had been perfect. Almost as perfect as when Jet walked in on him changing into his regular suit about five minutes later. He'd seen him without a shirt, abs crunched and biceps naturally bulging.

Fuck that was a good day. One of the best he'd had in years. Shame he didn't walk in a moment earlier and see if Freed wore boxers or briefs. He'd look good in either. Or without any underwear at all.

He'd also long since stopped caring about his crush on his boss. Freed was sexy, good fun, and the bright spot in Jet's life. Who cared if it was stupid?

Tetris, inevitably, was another victory for Freed. Jet knew he was likely to lose the entire game, and that Freed would have some perfectly respectable but entirely embarrassing task for him to compete when he eventually lost. Jet didn't care. He found it oddly thrilling to find himself at Freed's mercy again and again. He knew Freed wouldn't take anything too far. He would trust Freed with his life, so handing him his dignity on a silver platter just seemed to be second nature.

That, maybe, was a bit stupid. But Jet wasn't known for making good decisions. He was known for getting good results.

"So, tell me, you tedious creature," Freed emulated Jet's previous tone perfectly. "How does it feel to be so completely dominated at a game by a so-called old man? Demoralising? Humiliating? Earth-shattering?"

"You really think you play that big a role in my ego, huh?" Jet taunted, grinning. He didn't hide his grins around Freed like he usually did. It was nice to be so uninhibited.

"Oh, I know exactly how big a role I play in your ego, you little brat."

It would be funny, in retrospect, that this was the moment. The moment that Jet fell head over heals in love with Freed. Of course, in the moment he had no idea that it had happened. He had no idea that the sudden burst of adrenaline and dedication and hope was the makings of love. He had no idea that the little smiles that he'd been wearing for months now had been a precursor to love. He had no idea in that moment that his life had shifted so entirely in the best of ways.

But what he did know was, in that moment, Jet had had enough.

He turned to Freed, faced him straight on, and grabbed him by the tie. He pulled Freed into his space, grinned at the little exhalation he heard from so close, and planted a kiss onto Freed that had been months in the making.

Fucking Christ Freed knew how to kiss a guy.

He took no time in taking over from Jet, putting firm hands onto Jet's waist and turning them, pushing him into the Tetris machine and pinning him there with his hips. It was a kiss that rocked your core, that buckled your knees, and that got your cock hardening without giving you enough time to think. His hands were on Freed's chest, bunching up the fabric of his shirt, because fucking hell there was no way he was letting Freed away from this kiss.

Months. There had been months of staring at Freed, and little glances where he could swear Freed was looking back. Months of seeing the man behind the suit and tie, cocky and competitive and caring when he needed to be. Months of slowly feeling alive again, all because he had a man who set a fire inside of him. Months of falling for the man.

He'd realise that's what had happened later on. In that moment, all that mattered was Freed's lips on his, Freed's hands on his waist, Freed's thigh rubbing between his legs and against his semi.

"Jet," Freed gasped, lips kiss swollen and eyes a little hazy. "Is this a good idea?"

Jet didn't need to think. "Oh fuck yeah it is."

And Freed was kissing him again a moment later, so clearly he agreed with him.

———

Freed

The moment Freed's apartment door was closed, Freed had Jet pinned against it.

Jet was excellent to kiss. Thrilling and involved and just malleable enough to let Freed put him where he wanted. He kissed with his whole body, pushing up against Freed and setting him aflame. He cared little for dignity or image, and simply threw himself into it. He was focused solely on the pleasure, and dammit if Freed wasn't entranced by such a trusting, careless, sexy display.

If he were a better man, Freed might still be second guessing himself. But that one statement, that overtly enthusiastic call to arms, had been enough. Freed had taken Jet by the arm, dragged him to the nearest tram station, and hadn't been able to keep his hands off the man. On the tram, in the elevator, even as he was unlocking the door, Freed always had at least one hand on the man. Now they were in Freed's apartment, alone and horned up, and finally Freed was going to be able to indulge in the fantasies that had been slipping into his dreams for months.

"We doin' this against a door?" Jet asked, breathless and throaty. "Ain't complaining, but the handle's kinda diggin' into my back."

Fucking Jet against the door would be wonderful. He'd be rough with it, and he knew that he could make Jet scream and moan. People would walk past the door and hear, and they'd know just how responsive Freed could make his lover. Jet looked like a screamer, but he would need someone to coax it out of him. Freed could be the man who made that happen.

But not now. Not the first time. Not yet.

"Sofa," Freed demanded, husky. "Now."

He left enough space for Jet to slip out from the door, and said nothing else. Maybe he was testing to see if Jet was quick to argue the point in this mood, or if he had a more subservient side when in bed. Freed would be glad to see either, but knowing how Jet acted to a demand would help set the tone.

Jet saw his opening, grinned a naughty grin at Freed, him Freed on the lips, then slipped out and walked to the sofa. Only when Freed turned did he see Jet sitting on the arm of the sofa, smirking.

"This what you meant?" He asked, knowing that it wasn't. Cocky brat.

Hm. Freed had called him a brat before Jet had kissed him. Now he was looking at Freed, daring him to do something. Freed grinned. Perfect.

Shucking off his jacket and throwing it on the floor, Freed stormed over to the sofa. Jet tracked him, his amused and challenging expression never leaving. Freed placed a hand on Jet's chest and, without holding back on the force, shoved him. He was pushed onto the sofa cushions, legs still hooked over the arm, splayed out and ready for Freed. Freed climbed over him, knees either side of Jet's waist. He leant down, pressed the lightest of kisses he could manage onto Jet's lips, before smiling down at the wide eyes.

"Don't misbehave Jet," he warned. "I might like it too much."

He leant down, kissing and biting at Jet's collarbone, mercifully exposed from when Jet had ditched his tie and undone the top few buttons of his shirt. He could feel Jet writhing as his hands explored Jet's firm, strong body. A quick glance up as he secured a nasty love bite showed Jet looking down at him, a haze of pleasure overrunning him. Lovely. Brainless. Pliant.

Freed kissed him again, slowly grinding his crotch against Jet's. The whine, needy and ever so desperate, sent shivers down Freed's spine. He ground down further, feeling Jet's hard cock grind agains his own. Jet was big. Very big. The size of cock that might make a man cocky. Freed might have to put him in his place.

But not tonight. Tonight was instinct, not play, and instinct was screaming at Freed to make Jet cum.

Not breaking their kiss, Freed worked on Jet's fly first. The zipper was down and Freed plunged a hand into Jet's snug boxers, which had been tented with the monster erection. He pulled Jet's cock and balls out, gave a tentative slide of his hand over, and ate up the gasped 'fuck' with relish. Responsive and verbal. Lovely.

Freed was less elegant with pulling his own cock out, freeing it from his boxers and holding both of them in his hand. Jet had at least an inch more than Freed and fuck the thrill that sent down Freed was wonderful.

A hung, ripped, cocky man. Perhaps for some the perfect top. For Freed, the perfect plaything.

He brought his right hand up, pulled away from Jet's mouth just long enough to spit into his hand, then took both of their cocks again. He tugged them both, slow and languishing, thrusting his own hips into the groove while pinning Jet and stopping him from doing the same. He would be in control of all the pleasure tonight; he would give Jet what he deserved.

With precise and purposeful motivation, Freed attacked a spot on Jet's neck which would mark up beautiful. A hickey hard to hide, and harder to explain. Jet, a little pale and a little hairy, would be a wonderful canvas to mark. And he'd be so loud and desperate when he was doing it.

"Freed," Jet gasped.

"Like that?" Freed asked.

"Too much. Not ready to cum yet," Jet shuddered, and Freed mercifully removed his hand, looking down at his prize. Jet was ruffled beyond recognition, leaking cock bobbing in the cold air, hitting against Freed's. "I wanna suck you off and cum that way."

Oh. Oh this man was too much. "You do."

"Wanted to since day one," Jet shrugged. "Can I?"

Freed grinned. "Of course."

He shifted so that Jet could get out from under him, and Jet didn't even need to be told to get on his knees at the end of the sofa. Freed watched him, momentarily brainless at the sight of his ruffled employee on his knees, long dick leaking onto the hardwood floors, ready, willing and desperate for a cock down his throat. Freed shifted himself too, sitting on the sofa with legs spread, his own dick hard and glistening. He gave it a stroke or two, and Jet's eyes tracked the movement.

Jet leant in to take it in his mouth, but Freed raised a finger and Jet froze still. Slowly, with a false pretence of carelessness, Freed began to undo every button on his shirt. One by one they were undone, exposing his chest, abs and happy trail. He leant back and looked down at Jet.

"Why d'you do that?" Jet asked, though his juddering prick seemed to like it.

"Aesthetics," Freed grinned. He placed his hands behind his head, flexed his biceps, and looked down at Jet like a king looked down at a peasant. "Get on with it then."

Jet smirked. "Yes sir."

Freed had no time to relish that, because Jet was on his cock within a second. Fuck, a hot mouth and tight throat on his dick was wonderful. Jet might be a little out of practice, but he was damn good. The heat and the enthusiasm and the noises were magnificent, and Jet's tongue was a torturer and an angel all at once. Jet knew how to suck cock, and clearly loved it.

For a few seconds, Freed found himself boneless and unable to do anything but relish it. He could feel his toes curl, feel his blood burn, feel his back stick to his shirt with sweat. He could feel it all, and yet could do nothing but relish it.

"Stroke yourself," Freed demanded.

Jet did it, and that was what made this right. That was the small thing missing. Seeing Jet wrap his hand tight around his cock, jacking off without care for being watched was wonderful. There was nothing elegant or romantic or practiced about his movements. Jet was a man who wanted to cum over Freed's floor, and sucking Freed off was getting him close.

Encroaching orgasm burned up his body. Flew through his veins and set him aflame. He felt it coming, strong and shivering and all consuming. An orgasm that Freed would never forget.

He grabbed the back of Jet's head and held it in place, fucking his mouth with unrestrained need. The slurping and gagging and choking was downright sinful, and Jet wanked his cock faster and faster, and fuck that's what Freed needed. A cocky brat who loved getting face fucked and serving his better. Perfect. Wonderful. Obedient.

The groan came from deep inside of Freed, and hot wads of cum shot from Freed's dick just as overwhelming pleasure left him thoughtless. He could feel as Jet's throat worked to swallow it all, and fuck that was amazing.

He pulled his dick out just as the next shot of cum came, splattering it over Jet's face. It was thick and made Jet look beautiful. He blinked, and the cum on his eyelashes flew off, and Jet had never seen a man more radiant.

Wordlessly and breathlessly, they watched each other. Jet looked entirely fucked out, his office clothing a mess of rumples and cum stains. He glowed, and Freed found himself hypnotised by it. Freed's cock was semi hard still, covered in spit and cum, while Jet's had drooped to flaccid state, cum on the floor and on Freed's shoes. They noticed that at the same time, and the naughty look on Jet's face suggested that maybe that hadn't been an accident.

Jet, slowly and purposefully, ran a hand over his face and gathered up all of Freed's cum, before licking his palm clear. He never once looked away as he did it, and Freed knew he could bend Jet over his coffee table and fuck him right there. Jet would love it too. Freed knew it for sure.

"Jesus," Freed whispered, awestruck at the sight of the man.

"You got a shower in there, right?" Jet asked and nodded to the partially open bathroom door, voice hoarse and fucked. Freed nodded. "Big enough for two people?"

"Might, erm, might be a little snug," Freed breathed, weak and shuddering.

"Perfect," Jet grinned. He hopped up, tugged his shirt off over his head, and walked towards the bathroom. "Come on, Bossman. Let's get wet."

Never a more perfect offer had been made. Freed was quick to follow. He would follow Jet anywhere after a display of cock sucking, cum swallowing excellence, but a shower was perfect the best place he could think of.

Jet: wet, horny, bedraggled and insatiable. Freed was a lucky man indeed.

[kurlyfrasier]

5) Bleeding Heart: A Chronologue (part 2/2)

Pairing: Mand'alor!Din Djarin x Reader

Synopsis: Din left you and Grogu at Fett's Palace and regrets it.

Word Count: 1300-ish

Warnings: Um, improper use of Mando'a, I'm sure. And blood. Um, Darksaber stuff? Near death experience.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Mandalorian/Star Wars anything. I find all Mando’a translations and pronunciations at mandoa.org.

A/N: Been a long time coming, folks! Honestly, I'm a little surprised I finished this part lol BUT IT IS FINALLY HERE! Sorry it took so freaking long....This thing was a total nightmare for the longest time, let me tell you. I feel so accomplished now that this piece is OVER. Anyway, ENJOY! (:

Also, this takes place during Beskar Kisses & Grime, if you need to recap lol

Day Four:

Din woke up in a dark, unfamiliar room with a start, gasping for breath.

“Ah,” dim light filtered through the room. “You’re awake, Mand’alor.”

Din whirled out of the cot, cape tangling through his legs, blaster pointed at the man who entered.

The man held his hands up in surrender, lantern in hand casting shadows in the small space. A small smile on his wrinkled face. “Please, we mean you no harm.”

Slowly, Din holstered his blaster, his cape untangling with the movement. “I’m looking for someone. A bounty.” His voice was rough, throat dry.

“We get many travelers through our small village,” said the man. “Describe your bounty and I will ask around. If anyone has seen them, we would be more than happy to tell you.”

The words made Din wary, wondering what price he would need to pay for the information. “Why.”

“You are our Mand’alor,” the man stated, matter-of-fact.

With a sigh, Din sat down on the cot, utterly exhausted even though it seemed he got some sleep. It groaned under his weight. “You wear no armor.”

“We have been hiding,” he said, giving nothing away, gaze never leaving the visor before him.

“I see,” Din did not see, but his brain had felt muddled and confused for at least a day now. He figured it was the curse of his Kar’ta. The room was spinning, spinning, spinning. His gloved hands gripped the edge of the cot with strength he didn’t feel.

“Mand’alor?”

“Please- uh-” Din shook his head as though that would clear it and groaned, eyes screwed shut. He had no idea what he was going to say, so he went with the next thing on his mind. “Why- back to?” His body swayed. “Mandalore.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather rest?” The man’s concern reached Din’s ears, but just barely over the ringing that now suddenly plagued him.

“Can’t,” he shook his head petulantly and landed hard on his side, eyes opening to find the older man hovering above him. The cot was hardly softer than the ground itself. “Ner Kar’ta.”

“Go back,” the familiar voice cracked, heartbroken and weary.

“Your heart?”

“Go back,” it wailed.

“The bounty,” Din mumbled, moving to sit back up, but the man’s hands held him in place. “I have to get back to her.”

“Go back,” it seethed. “You call yourself Mand’alor and yet you leave your heart.”

A weak cackle made its way out of his vocoder. Finally, the darksaber speaks its mind. “Says the one who gave me no choice.”

“You make no sense, Mand’alor,” the words sounded far away, blowing past him in a strong breeze, getting farther and farther away.

Day Unknown

Din awoke in a fog, the taste of iron filling his mouth. Blood splattered the inside of the helmet before he was able to rip it off, blinding his sight. Silently, not knowing where he was, he slowly sat up and removed his helmet. The air was cool and damp, a cold sweat made his flight suit cling to his body in an uncomfortable way.

Spitting more blood on the ground, he took in his surroundings. A small lantern sat on a small wooden table by the door. The walls, he noticed, were made of stick and mud. Above was straw, which explained absolutely nothing.

Where was he?

What was he doing here?

“You’re awake!” An over-excited voice said, scurrying past before Din could see who they were. “I’ll go get grandpapa.”

Din stood to follow, hand reaching out to the wall as the room spun. Slowly, he grabbed his bag laying on the ground and his bloodied helmet. Finally, he stepped forward, ignoring the ache in his chest as he settled the beskar on his head. Ignoring the murmur of the Darksaber in his mind when he fell to his knees, coughing, sputtering blood until he couldn’t see anything but red. The bag dropped from his feeble grip, one hand moving to clutch the center of his chest while the other fumbled for the mechanism to remove his helmet. Around him, footfalls were heard, thumping, pounding, surrounding him. Someone spoke. A shout. Cries.

Darkness enveloped him.

“If you’re going to be this stupid, Din Djarin, chosen Mand’alor,” the voice spat, disappointment ringing through the many voices. “Then it is time we take over.”

“Take,” Din heaved, chest heavy, as though the Razor Crest sat on it. Every breath tasting, smelling, of copper. Vaguely, he wondered if this was the end for him. “Over?”

“Elek,” it’s voice became stronger, more firm, turning into a physical thing he couldn’t see. As though it had moved from inside of his mind to a person standing right next to him. It’s next words were clipped, “We chose you as our true heir. The one who will bring peace to Mandalore. The one who will always do right by his people. The one we gave the most precious thing to,” the voice paused, waiting. When Din didn’t- couldn’t- respond, it continued, voice reverberating reverence, “Gar Kar’ta.”

“Kar-”

“But we see you do not deserve her-”

“I kno-”

“We see you are not keen to stay in her presence-”

“I do-” Din panted, voice sounding strangled. In a panic, he attempted to explain. To tell the past Mand’alors that you were the only thing he could think of, only thing he needed to survive. He needed them to know that you were everything to him, that all he wanted to do was keep you safe. That it had agreed with him before, that taking you on hunts was unsafe. That anything could happen. There were too many variables, remember? When had a fight ever gone his way? Doesn’t the Darksaber remember that? “Not safe-”

“Yet you must live,” the once-ghostly voices stated over him as though he hadn’t said a word. As though he was nothing but a speck of sand on Tatooine. As if every breath didn’t feel like his last. “We will get you back to her.”

“But-”

“Do not worry, Mand’alor,” the voice turned gentle, understanding. “You are still worthy of your crown. Of us,” the Darksaber sounded sad with it’s next words. “More worthy than most who were chosen before you.”

Silence reigned, high-pitched and screaming. 

Shutting his eyes tight against the surrounding darkness, Din focused on breathing. Honing in on counting; one… two… three… four… five, as he breathed in and out. For minutes, hours, days, he breathed as the metallic scent that could only be blood, filled his lungs. Still, he kept breathing. It was the only thing he could do. The only thing he was capable of. The only thing that kept his mind occupied from the pressure, the burning, the squeezing, in his chest.

The Last Day

The ramp of the Crest screeched open. Blinding light from the double suns forced Din to squint through his visor. Confused, he moved forward, stepping down the ramp as it landed on the sands of Tatooine at Fett’s Palace. Behind him was the hum of floating frozen carbonite following him. Ahead of him, you stood waiting, eyes filled with worry.

He didn’t understand how he was still alive.

He didn’t understand how he got back to the same planet your presence graced.

He didn’t- couldn’t remember anything past the forever darkness. A black so dark he thought for sure he wouldn’t survive. A familiar voice echoed deep in his mind. His head hurt just thinking about it. So he didn’t. Instead, he strode toward you with purposeful strides, using strength he didn’t feel.

“Mesh’la,” he whispered, voice raspy, as he gently laid his helmeted head on yours.

“Gar Kar’ta cuyir morut’yc,” a barely there voice whispered in the depths of his mind.

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

Tags: @againstacecilia @djarinslove @bxmxtx @takeyour-pants-off

THANKS FOR READING!

[malfunctions1]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago Characters: Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago Additional Tags: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Established Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago Fluff, Anxious Amy Santiago, Bombs, Bombing, Hostage Situations, Bank Robbery

[unauthorizeduntitledportal-work]

Chapter One: Aperture File One

It wasn’t too long ago that GLaDOS was destroyed. Not too long after that, the cores came back online to take care of a dead facility. However, it was just long enough where it might’ve been long ago or maybe not. Plus, the cores had lost track of time since they were randomly shut down and reactivated again.

Either way, GLaDOS was gone, the test subjects were gone, the scientists were gone, and the cores were back. Despite having dozens of cores, only four truly reactivated. Those four were the Fact Core, Space Core, Adventure Core, and the Intelligence Dampening Core. These cores were made long ago by Aperture to assist in scientific studies, advancements, and upkeep. They each also served their own purpose based on their names. 

Fact Core was the first to reactivate. His main function is to aid scientists and test subjects whenever they have a question or need a random fact about something. He’s basically the search engine for the facility and was once very useful. However, like the other cores, he is now corrupt. Due to this, his facts are often wrong and twisted. His flamboyant personality makes it difficult to determine whether or not he is aware that his facts are incorrect. He most likely doesn’t notice and thinks he is still being useful. His love for facts either right or wrong, is still very strong and so is his ego.

Mere nanoseconds later, Adventure Core was reactivated. His main function is to scout out land in place of a human. He also contains knowledge of different environments, geography, and land formations. He enjoys going by the name “Rick” for unknown reasons. A scientist caught him calling the other cores by actual names too once or twice. When asked why, he didn’t give a clear answer. He only stated that he liked the sound of it. Out of the remaining cores, he’s one of the best at hiding the fact that he is also corrupt. 

Lastly, Space Core joined the three. His main function is to provide knowledge about space and everything it contains. This includes space travel, astrological events, previous space missions, and more. Space was Aperture’s next goal, so having him and the other cores proved useful. It is most obvious that he is corrupt. He is now too busy ranting about his love for space to give facts and information about it. He just really likes space.

It’s unknown when the Intelligence Dampening Core or “Wheatley” came back online. It was most likely around the same time as the others. His main function was to help control GLaDOS by giving her stupid and random ideas that are prone to fail. Later, he was put in charge of the test subjects and their chambers. This is a job that he obviously didn’t want. He was also unhappy when he learned about his first purpose and started to constantly complain. This is when the name “Wheatley” was used more consistently. The other cores didn’t know when he reactivated because they weren’t around him. This wasn’t due to any functions or jobs, they merely don’t like him and he doesn’t like them. 

Despite being created by the best scientific minds, by now, most of the cores are somewhat corrupted. The corruption causes the cores to be unable to do their functions properly. More specifically, the Adventure Core’s corruption mainly affects his motor functions and ability to see. As of now, these functions are not badly affected. Though, it is obvious that he’s no longer in mint condition. As previously stated, the Fact Core’s facts are no longer true and are usually twisted. Lastly, instead of giving useful information about space, Space Core just rambles about space related things and his dream of going to space. Due to his functions and personality, it’s unknown if Wheatley is corrupted. 

Once a core is corrupted enough, it may exhibit signs that are similar to insanity in humans. This could include paranoia, nonsensical rambling, homicidal tendencies, and more. These signs are present at different corruption levels for each core. It is unknown why. The leading theory is that it’s based on their functions and how useful they feel. Changes in personality could be an early sign that the core would soon exhibit these signs.

It is also unknown why cores get corrupted at all. Rather, there is no ONE reason. It could be because some cores were made before the technology was perfected. It could be because they were deactivated and reactivated suddenly and without cause. It could also be due to time or the harsh environment and how it could cause such a complex AI to become unraveled. The final theory here is that it has something to do with the once [VOID]

Despite this, the cores still follow most of the rules. One rule being to never leave the rail unless given permission by a high ranking faculty member. The rails consist of platforms the cores can stand on and hold onto as they move around to their next location. It can only be used by the cores since it requires certain programming. The cores have been told that if they were to ever leave the rail, they would die. This rule was also placed into their programming.

Now, the cores spend their days doing their best to maintain the facility and perform their functions. Even if there’s nothing to do and conditions have become too harsh to perform their tasks.

Due to only four cores remaining, they have created something almost like a reluctant friendship. Well, the three have. Wheatley continues overseeing the relaxation chambers and what remains of the humans. 

[homo-rashi]

I did it!

It took me eight months but I finally finished my Omovember from 2022! I wrote 30, 2000+ word MHA piss-fics  (with a few other random fandoms for promts i was stumped on lol)

I had to finish it even if it took me moths because half the people who start Omovmeber never finish it and it makes me sad so here you go! 

✧˖°.READ IT HERE ✧˖°.

pls give all the works you read kudos and comments cause this is legit eight months of my life ill never get back ;-; 

[littlewingtakeflight]

Driven By The Rhythm (Like The Beat Of Their Hearts)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43684302

A gift for a fic/art exchange secret santa thingy! I hope you enjoy!

[angel13xo]

*gets 10 likes*

im a star

IM A STAR

[wowowwild]

Chapter 14 of Polly’s Paper Bag is arrived!

Starring:

Athena as Voice of Reason

Maya as Sage Master of Romance

Phoenix as Unhelpful for All 12 Seconds of Screen Time

Clay as Dutiful Housewife Who Spoils the Children

Apollo as Horribly Insecure Actually :/ and also A Pushover

[luciluck2046]

for @akanemnon :)

Me every time Twin Runes is getting updated:

(I finally learned how to draw side profiles :D but this is just a sketch lol)

og meme:

[taw-k]

I love domestic Avengers with my whole heart. Showing that they're not just superheros but people too. People that make stupid jokes and love their families and get sick and fail and have parties and mess around and act like children sometimes.

[bluxb3rry]

❝𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜

Medusa AU! Lee Minho x Blind! male reader! he/him pronouns! English is not my first language! hehe angst and fluff Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR [Not yet but you know] would you like to see me as another fruit or blueberry forever?

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Lee minho was a handsome man, everytime he walked he made at least made one person fall in love at frist sight. He didn't care, he just wanted to be with his cats in his lovely home, him and his toughts.

In some way, he didn't liked being like this, people only looking at him with lust in their eyes, talking to him with only one thougt in their head. He wished that someone could touch his hair, his lips, his neck, his body, with pure love, and the soft words "i love you" being murmured in his ear. That someone could kiss him with passion and that could build a fire inside him.

He oh so wanted to be loved, that he believed in the men that told him those words, he ignored everything because he was told "i love you" he ignored the warnings in his head and kissed him with passion, feeling loved.

But love isn't real, it's fake, and he learned that with pain, he was punished. He didn't know why, he was loved, he felt safe in that man arms, but he heard an angry scream before that his body changed.

Lee minho was a handsome man, so as a punishment, he was made to a monster. He didn't really looked like one, the snakes that were his new hair didn't damage anything, he would look like a beautiful creature, but, everyone that looked at him would became stone. That made him a monster.

People wanted to kill him, people wanted to take his head as a trophy, but that wasn't even close to what he felt, he felt betrayed because of love. Because of love, he lost his life.

He wished that someone would look at him and tell him "you're still handsome" "you're still are perfect" please, stop calling him a monster, please let him leave that cage of rocks inside a muntain, where only the planst and the rocks can hear his screams and tears. Ignoring the beautiful flowers that grow from the grass, ignoring those snakes that oh tried so hard to help him.

Please someone tell him, tell him that you love him.

-hello?-

Huh, a voice?

-Hello? Is anybody here? im lost!-the voice started to be more close

-a human?-he whispered, a snake answering him with a hiss

He started to get up from the rock, his snake like body transferring him. He looked behind one of the rocks, the human was walking quite dumb in his opinion, he would step on some rocks and hiss, still looking anywhere confused as ever.

-Hello?-the man said again, until he crashed into a big rock and fell to the floor.

-you are one silly human-minho finally talked, getting close to him.

There were a lot of statues around him, men that tried to kill him, men tried to hide but failed. Yet, this guy decided to just walk like nothing, and even ask for help, his help.

-Hello? Who are you?-the men asked looking at him.

Minho was suprised when the men looked but didn't became stone.

-my question is, who are you? i want to know the stupid men that came here-minho talked with a hint of anger in his voice

-oh, um, im sorry mister, im Y/N, as you can see im blind and i don't know how i got lost and, well, here i am-Y/N said with a small smile, his cheeks becoming quite red

-huh, that makes sense-minho walked far away, slapping his snake tail to the mens face-that explains why you aren't stone right now

-stone?-Y/N looked at bit more suprise now-so, you are the snake man that the town talks about-

-something like that, and you don't look so afraid-minho said while playing with one of his snakes.

-well, if you were a really monster, you would have killed me by now, yet you didn't-Y/N said with a smile in his face, looking where he was hoping the men was.

-you are lost, where did you wanted to go anyways that you ended here?-minho sat, kinda, in front of him.

-i was following some people, they said that they were going to look for food but never came back-he laughed a bit-i think they didn't wanted me in the group anymore

Minho just looked at him, not saying a word.

-Lee minho-

-huh?-

-Lee minho, thats my name-

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Minho showed him the town, hiding behind some trees, far away from his cave, yet, Y/N followed him back. He heard him quite easly, since he crashed again into some trees.

"why are you still here" he asked

"well, you didn't pushed me away" Y/N answered

So, time passed, and here they are, beside the small lake that was in the cave. Minho looking at Y/n making some crown flowers with the few that grow there.

-you know how to make those, you look like a professional-he said getting closer to him

-yeah, well my mom used to teach me, it was hard since i only could use my hands but, i learned and i made a lot of them for her and for me-Y/N said finally finishing the two crown flowers, putting one in his own head

-and your father?-minho asked, fixing a bit of the flower crown in Y/N's head

-he, was never there, i didn't mind, i didn't met him but i wish i could hugged him at least one time-Y/N's voice was a bit sad

-men are like that, some of us don't deserve that, i was once a handsome man, but, someone betrayed me-minho said, anger being obvious in his voice

-was?-Y/N asked

-well, if you could see me right now, you would see a monster-

Y/N raised his hands a bit, withouth warning he started to touch Minho face. Minho was suprised but he stay still, now knowing what the other one was doing.

Then he felt his fingers in his lips, touching his cheecks, softly touching his nose and even touched some of the snakes. Y/N touched his neck a bit, then rested his hands in his shoulders, Y/N smiled.

-i think your handsome and kind, if you weren't like that, i would have been dead by now but you helped me and even let me live here-Y/N said-though i do feel sad that i can't see you, dying by seeing you must be a beautiful way to die.

Minho felt tairs falling from his cheecks, oh he waited so long for those words to be said, even before that he became like that. Someone has finally treated him with kind and love, told him how he was.

His heart felt like fire, he didn't know when but he kissed him, he kissed him with passion and you accepted that. The two men in that room knew so little abouth the other, but they felt safe in each others arms.

When they separated, they hugged, Minho face being in withing the shoulder and neck of Y/N.

-i... i think i love you-minho whispered

-i love you too-

Minho felt happy, and with his snakes looking at him and at his new lover, he didn't care, he wasn't a monster.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[theewritingroomm]

The First Meeting - Pre War

Summary: meeting Cooper for the first time. Pairing: Cooper Howard x Reader (eventual) Word Count: 597 Warnings: none for this chapter, future chapter may have more warnings. A/N: This drabble series is going to feel like a slow burn, and it will likely not be posted in any specific order. However there will be a masterlist for this series. I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad. 

The Cowboy & The Movie Star

When you had gotten the role, you did not expect much to come out of it. The one thing you knew for certain was that your mom was proud. She was every time you got a role. And eventually, everybody in your hometown would know about it. On release day, her book club would become a watch party and they would drive to the nearest theater and watch it. Later in the evening you could expect a call where your mom would rave about the movie and your performance, Even if it was only thirty seconds. 

That is exactly what happened with your latest movie. Though the praise did not stop with just your mother this time. Multiple times a day your agent was calling to tell you about the latest interview opportunity or magazine article that wanted to feature you and discuss the movie. . 

Accepting those interviews had rocketed you to the status of America’s Sweetheart. Your place there was cemented by the nomination you received for best supporting actress. 

“Mom, I don’t know if I can do this.” You admitted into the space of the backseat, running your hands down the front of your dress. An attempt to calm the nerves taking over. 

Your mom placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn towards her. Pride was visible on every feature of her face. 

“My sweet girl, you can do this. You are so strong and magnificent. And now the world is finally catching onto what I’ve known this whole time.” She fixes a strand of your hair as she continues. “So, when you do win and you become a world traveling movie star, don’t forget you momma.” 

A laugh breaks through the nerves as the car comes to a stop. 

The door is opened from the outside of the car and the flashes from dozens of cameras momentarily blinds you. The shouts of your name are nearly deafening as you step out of the car. 

An older gentleman ushers you and your mother down the red carpet. Instructing you on when to stop and where to begin looking. The ordeal was slightly disorientating; the lights, the voices, the people. It was too much and the nerves began to return as you shuffled down the carpet.. Slamming into your chest like a bus. 

Or perhaps that feeling was the man you had stumbled into. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” You rushed out, grabbing onto the man’s forearm for stability. 

Chancing a glance upwards, dread filling you as the remnants of your career in Hollywood flashed in your mind. 

Though instead of anger from the man above you, there was a flash of worry as he helped you right yourself. His brown eyes were soft as a hand landed on your hip. 

“Accidents happen,” he waved off, “Are you okay, darling?” 

The term of endearment, laced with his slow drawl slid down your spine like warm honey. Settling where his hand sat on your hip and spread warmth through you. 

Before you got the chance to respond, the voices of the paparazzi cut into your brain. 

“Cooper! Y/N! Look this way! Over here!” 

It seemed that, broke the man, Cooper, out of his own trance. His hand slipped from your waist, yours fell from his arm. Backing up a step you met his eyes again. 

“Thank you for catching me.” You spoke quickly, shuffling past him, you mother in tow. Sporting a new, cheshire cat grin. 

As the award show began, a newly familiar figure slid into the empty seat next to yours.

[succubusdaydream]

By The Grace of The Moon || Astarion x Werewolf!Selunite!Tav PT3

AN: Hiiii, part 3 is heeere! Not a lot of Astarion action but I loved how it turned out. I rewrote this one twice and I'm finally happy with it :3 enjoy my bbys <3 once again, possibly ooc characters

Part 1 || Part 2

Word Count: 3402

                “Shadowheart! Shadowheart wake up, damn you!” His voice rang throughout the camp and he rushed for the women’s tent. “Tav’s hurt, wake up!” In his arms was the body of their leader, his shirt tied around the large slash on their stomach as their blood soaked it. His breath was heavy as he laid them down on a bedroll near the smoldering campfire. A groan sounded from behind him as Shadowheart emerged from her tent.

                “Astarion, do you know how late it is? What are you yelling-“ As her eyes caught the scene in front of her, she quickly rushed to his side. “What in the hells happened to them?” She quickly untied the bloodied shirt, not allowing their nakedness to phase her. She hovered her hands over the wound, mumbling healing spells as she tried her hardest to mend the large wound.

                “I-I don’t know. I went for a walk, and they were just lying in an empty field. They wouldn’t wake up.” His voice was frantic as he tried to go over any possibilities. What were they doing out so late. Why were they naked? Were they taken from their camp by bandits. He just wanted something to eat and now he had carried their leader’s bleeding body miles back to camp. Their scent was familiar, and they smelt of herbs and… dog? No. It can’t be. But…their wound is in the same spot. The same spot as where I sliced that large wolf only an hour ago.

                Gale’s sleepy self soon joined them, hearing the commotion and rushing over as well. “Mystra’s eyelids! What happened to them?” He echoed Shadowheart’s question, and his hands started to glow with magic. He could sense Tav’s own magic, though it didn’t feel like that of a wizard or any other class. No, it felt more… wild. He could feel traces of Selunite magic.

                “Astarion, what were you doing in the woods so late?” He said he was walking but I don’t believe him. Shadowheart glared quizzically at him as the wound on their leader’s chest started to close. “And give us the truth, Astarion.” He stepped back, preparing himself for the worst.

                “I… I was… I was looking for something to eat. I just needed…. well… blood.” And with that, the rest of the group realized what he was. A vampire. Gale suddenly let out a laugh, snapping his fingers and pointing at Astarion.

                “I knew it! Hah! I had my suspicions, that boar we found the other day had puncture wounds on its neck and you were very dismissive.” Gale only briefly celebrated his proven theory before turning back to Tav’s body and continuing to help Shadowheart. “Now, with how loudly you ran into camp, I can assume you didn’t do this?”

                Astarion shook his head. “I… I don’t think I did? I was tracking boars and scared them off. Then a large… wolf appeared out of nowhere and chased after them.” He paused. It had to have been them. “I think our Tav here is also hiding a secret from us. I got into a fight with the wolf and cut it’s stomach open. I followed its trail and found Tav in that field, lying in their own blood.”

                “A wolf? Are you trying to say that Tav is… a werewolf?” Shadowheart scoffed before thinking about it. With their worship of Selune, it would make a little sense. They also haven’t told us much about themselves. She sighed and retreated to her tent, quickly emerging with a roll of bandages. “Their wounds are pretty much healed. They’ll need to take it easy for a bit though.” Why did they have to be a wolf? I hate wolves.

                “We’ll have to ask them more about it when they wake up. For now, we’ll let them rest.” Gale wrapped their leader’s stomach in the bandages Shadowheart brought out. And after, he stood up, groaning as his knees popped and before returning to his tent. Shadowheart stood up too, walking to Tav’s tent and grabbing a blanket and clothes.

                “If they are a werewolf, I’m sure they’ll feel better sleeping under a full moon.” Her voice was low as she dressed them and covered them with their blanket. “Get some rest, Astarion. They’ll be fine in the morning.” And with that, she too returned to her tent. It would only be a few hours until the sun would rise, and with how much magic and energy everyone used yesterday, they all needed as much sleep as they could get.

                “Right. All better.” His voice was low, and he sat next to Tav’s sleeping body, listening to their shallow breaths, and watching their chest slowly raise. Why? Why do I care so much? I’m sure without them, the others would be enough to take down Cazador. So why does my chest feel tight? Was I crying while carrying them back? Questions raced through his mind as he looked up at the moon. Selune. If Tav is a follower of yours, help them recover faster.

---

                Your head was pounding and the brightness on the other side of your eyelids wasn’t helping. You groaned and held your hand up, blocking out the light as you tried your best to open your eyes. The sun. Am I still in that field? I thought I heard… A gasp left your lips as you shot up. “Astarion?!” Oh gods! Is he okay? I threw him to the ground and just took off!

                “Ahh, I see our little run away is awake.” You turned your head and was met with Gale stirring a pot over a fire. “Did you sleep well? Breakfast in almost ready.” He met your gaze before pointing to your stomach. “No blood, I see. Hope that means you’ve fully healed?” You didn’t know how to respond. When did you get back to camp?                 Ignoring Gale’s questions, you fully sat up and realized your clothes. How the hells did I get back here? “What happened? The last thing I remember was…” No. If I tell him, he’ll figure it out. “I went for a walk.” You didn’t want to lie to your friends but if they find out, they’ll leave you.

                Gale scoffed and gave you a knowing look. “Now, Tav. You and I both know that’s not true.” He turned in whole body to you and his face changed to a softer expression. “You can trust us, Tav. I hope you know that. We’re in this whole ordeal together now.” His gaze drifted behind you as footsteps sounded through the camp.

                “Well, good morning. I hope your feeling better.” Shadowheart took a seat next to you, glancing to your stomach. “You seem better. And I do hope you plan on giving us the whole story of your eventful night.” Do they already know? Can I even keep this lie up?

                “Where’s Astarion? Is he alright?” Your mind was now racing with even more questions. Where is your mate? Is he hurt? Was it his voice you heard or were you just wanting to hear him. “I thought I heard him last night. Is he here?” Your head looked in his tent’s direction, the flap of it up and his scent not strong enough for him to be present.

                “He went to… find something to eat. We found out something interesting about both of you last night.” Shadowheart’s head pointed in the direction of the woods. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. But first, your explanation.” There really is no avoiding it now. There’s no other way out of this.

---

You shouldn’t have been out so late. Not with everything that was going on in your village. The farmers had been losing livestock to wild animals for months now. Wolves, they suspected. Even with all the fences and guarding, they lost many of their animals.  But here you are, walking a back woods trail in the dead of night. It was quiet, only owls and insects could be heard.

You always liked the night. The quietness made it easier to think. You also enjoyed the way the stars and moon lit up the trees. It’s why you went for a wolf tonight. The moon was high and at its full brightness. You admired its beauty while sitting near a stream, body sat on a rock and feet dipped in its water. You weren’t really thinking about much, just tired.

Along with the farmers in your village, the women would garden and weave clothes. Some even made jewelry and other smaller trinkets. There were also the hunters, like your father. He had been busy the past few weeks with trying to capture whatever was killing the livestock. Your mother was also busy. Since your village couldn’t sell their meat or good animals, the women had been making more clothes and working harder to get their gardens nice and grown.

You really shouldn’t have been out right now. Really, what were you thinking. But you’re young and have your whole life ahead of you. Too young to truly grasp the concept of being harmed, or worse. So when you heard the howl of wolves, your blood ran cold. It sounded close and what made it worse was the footsteps that followed them. Then the voice came. It was deep and nearly right behind you.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here, boys. What a cute little one. What’s got you so far from home?” Turning around, you were met with a large man who was covered in scrapped clothes. His face was home to scruffy beard, and he looked dirty, like he had been wandering around for a while.

From the trees behind him emerged two large wolves. They stood on his sides and licked their large teeth, growling lowly. Their eyes seemed to glow under the light of the moon, the stream water reflecting in their eyes.

“Who… who are you?” Your voice was panicked as you stood up and looked around. “I don’t have anything on me.” You had left your home in your nightclothes. It wasn’t too cold, so you hadn’t grabbed a coat. Just your nightclothes and boots.

The man laughed as the wolves circled him. “We don’t want anything from you. Well, not necessarily. We’ve taken plenty of your town’s livestock to keep ourselves up till the next village.” Who was this guy? Another hunter? It could explain the wolves at his side. Or maybe they were druids? But you thought they were supposed to be nice? “No, but we could make use of you yet. Our pack numbers are starting to dwindle.”

Pack numbers? Our pack numbers? There’s no way. You thought Lycans were legend. Do they really exist. “Use of me? Pack?” You took a step back, trying to find the best direction to run away from the man and his ‘pack.’ “I don’t understand.”

He laughs again, his eyes darkening as he steps forward. And has if reading your thoughts, he shakes his head. “You can try and run, kid. But my boys here haven’t had a fun chase in a while.” The wolves growled louder, almost expecting his next words. “Why don’t you give them a good chase.” He tilts his head, his smile growing and showing sharp teeth. “We’ll even give you a head start. One… two…”

Tears were finally falling from your eyes, and you quickly ran past the group. As you did, the wolves snapped their jaws at you, causing you to scream and push your legs harder. Your vision blurred as you ran in the direction of your house. You could just barely see the lights of your village when you heard the howls behind you.

“Ready or not! Here we come, little pup!” The thudding of their paws behind you grew louder as you cried out. Your screams echoed through the air as you broke the tree line. You yelled as loud as you could. Crying out for your mother and father. You could see your house just over the field. And from it, the back door opens. Your mother stood in her night robes, peering out before shouting for you.

As she called out to you, the thudding became louder and howling grew closer. And soon, your small body was knocked to the ground as you cried out. The wolves as caught up to you and the man approached quickly. “You’re faster than I thought, puppy. But I’ve won our little game. Now you’re ours.” The wolves kept they’re large paws on your legs as the man reached down. You could hear your mother crying out for your father, telling him to grab his bow or sword.

You cried out as the man took your arm in his, running his nose across your skin and inhaling your scent. “You really do smell sweet.” Tear ran down your face and you thrashed your body, begging the man to let you go.

“Please! Please I don’t understand! What did I do?!” Your pleads were cut off as he opened his mouth, once again exposing his large sharp teeth. “No! No please- AHH!” He sank his teeth into your flesh with a groan and the wolves howled. Blood ran down your arm as your screams rang through the village. Behind you, your fathers’ shouts reached your ears.

“Gets the hells away from my child!” There was a whistle in the air and right after, one of the wolves let out a yelp as an arrow lodged itself into its neck. With its weight off one your legs, you started thrashing. More arrows flew through the air and the other wolf soon took a hit as well. With both his wolves taken out, the man quickly withdrew his teeth and stepped back, a smirk of his face as the blood ran down his chin.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little pup.” In your blurred vision, you saw his body change with the cracking of bones. His large, shifted form quickly turned and bounded away, howling as he did. Your father quickly slid to your side, tossing his bow down as others from the village left their homes at the sound of your screams. He quickly took your arm in your hand, examining the bite mark.

“Tav?! Tav, love I need you to focus on my voice!” Your ears were ringing and everything was loud. Your body felt like it was on fire, and you writhed in the grass, ignoring your fathers’ words. Soon, hunters from the village were gathered, their swords and bows in hand as they asked what was going on. “The creature that’s been eating our livestock wasn’t an ordinary wolf. It was a Lycan.” He pointed in the direction the man, no, the Lycan ran in and soon the hunters were running after him.

Your screams turned to simple whines and groans as your father looked at your arm. Your breath was rapid as your vision continues to darken. Were you dying? Is that what’s happening? You didn’t want to die; you were only a child. Your tears never stopped, even after your mother joined your father and demanded you be taken inside, her cries for her baby echoing just as loud through your village’s street.

---

Gale and Shadowheart stared in shock as you recalled the origin of your curse. Your fingers wrung together as you continued. “The village never found the Lycan that bit me. They searched for weeks but… they never found him, and he never came back.” Your breath hitched, “They then tried to call for… for my execution. I had been bitten by a Lycan and was now a monster surrounded by hunters. It was only a matter of time before the bit settled and I made my first shift.”

Galed gasped. “They tried to kill you?” You nodded.

“One month later, I had my first shift. My parents locked me up with chains and magic in hopes that I wouldn’t rampage through the village. It worked but every time, they said they hated seeing their only child chained up, howling, and crying in pain.” You sniffed. “My mother said that the sound of my bones cracking would haunt her dreams and when the full moon was a week away, she could barely look at me.”

Shadowheart was the next to speak. “Is that why you worship Selune?” Of course her first question is about Selune. Still, you chuckled and nodded.

“My parents tried every cleric, paladin, and healer they could find. There was no recorded cure for Lycanthropy. So, a cleric of Selune suggested we try and pray to her. She said she could almost see the reflection of the moon in my eyes, even in broad daylight. So, my parents took me to a temple, devoted to any god. They made offerings and prayed almost every day.”

Your voice went quiet, and you waited for either of them to speak. When neither of them did, you continued your story. “For a while, we didn’t know if it worked. We saw no sign from Selune. Until my next shift. The pain I felt wasn’t as bad as previous shifts, and after it happened, I was in control. I didn’t snap at my parents or try to break my chains. I was finally back in control of my own body, instead of being… almost like an observer. Like someone else was the pilot of my body.”

“So the moon goddess answered your prayers. How could you tell?” Gale’s voice reached your ears, and you looked up. Both him and Shadowheart were leaned in, listening intently to your past.

“My mother said that during that shift, it seemed like the moon was brighter. She said the light through the window made it seem like I was glowing. And when I was fully shifted, Selune’s symbol was in my fur.” You picked up a nearby twig, drawing the symbol in the dirt in front of you. “She said it looked almost like a crown, and we knew that she heard our prayers.”

You sat back and sighed, a sign that you had finished your story. Gale and Shadowheart were left almost speechless. Gale whistled and leaned back as well. “Well… that was quite a story. Now though, when you shift, you’re in full control? We don’t have to worry about you rampaging?” His words were light, he knew that you were in control, but you’re sure that hearing it would make him feel better.

With a chuckle you answered him. “No. No we don’t have to worry about that. It only hurts a little bit but with Selune’s blessing I am in full control. My parents and I have been devoted to her ever since.” A smile crossed your face. “I truly thought my life was over. Lycanthropy may be a curse, but Selune turned it into a blessing for me. When I gained control, I was able to help my village. During each shift I would hunt for my village. Providing meat for them to sell in the city each month. I would protect the livestock and everything.”

Shadowheart looked at you with pity. “You must miss them. Your family.” You nodded. You were in the middle of a hunt when you were taken. The last thing you told your parents was that you’d see them at sunrise. It had been a week since then. You missed them terribly.

“I do. I never expected something like this to happen. I mean, who does?” You chuckled and stood up, shaking yourself off. “Good news is my shifting hasn’t changed because of the tadpole. I’m still in full control.” That seemed to ease their minds. Something else was on your mind though as you looked around. “You said Astarion went to find something to eat? What did that mean?” Please don’t tell me it’s true. Tell me I imagined it.

Gale looked at you knowingly. “I’m sure you already know the answer to that, Tav. He told us he uhm… ran into you.”

Your eyes drifted off and your breath hitched. “So it’s true? Astarion’s a vampire?” You took a step back and your breath hitched. So Selune has given me a vampire mate. Have I truly upset her? Did I do something wrong.

As thoughts ran through your mind, a voice sounded from behind all of you. “Sorry to disappoint you, Darling.”

---

Part 1 || Part 2

Masterlist

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SEND ME FIC REQUESTS FOR JASON, DICK, OR BRUCE

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TDIOBCB challenge - day 1:

holding hands Aegon and Daenaera

One of the prominent nuptials in this succession of matrimonial events, aside from the marriage of Princess Rhaena and Prince Daeron, was the significant union of the adored eldest children, Aegon, colloquially referred to as the Golden Prince - due to the colour of the cloak that he often wore when he was a child - with Lady Daenaera Velaryon, the daughter of the deceased Lady Laena, the dearest companion of the Queen.  This auspicious ceremony took place in the year 136 AC and held considerable significance.  To mark this extraordinary occasion, the Queen opted to arrange a grandiose Royal ceremony surpassing any previous ones, summoning Lords and nobility from Westeros and other regions to attend the extravagant affair that would span over a week. Amidst the grandeur of the feast, individuals couldn't help but admire the stunning appearance of the newly married couple, who spent the entire event gleefully dancing and smiling, forgetting their surroundings in blissful oblivion. Several people attested to witnessing an unparalleled level of happiness and love between the Prince of Dragonstone and his newlywed spouse: after all, both had been fond of each other ever since their real first encounter, which happened when the two were children. - from TDIOBCB chapter 1

(warning: these illustrations are inspired by an AU Divergence and have nothing to do with canon (book or tv show) events and are not meant to be reposted outside of their contest)