#feelsy ones usually are

[kaspers-kanvas]

this was what happened in the battle of the bands audience trust me i was the moai at the back

[thevegandarkelf]

Taken Care Of

18+, MINORS DNI

Masterlist

AO3 link

This oneshot features my OC Lydia Vector (from my story 'Finding Myself, Finding You') & Daryl Dixon (TWD) after they've officially gotten together. I was going to wait until I had posted all the chapters of it to post this, but it's getting too difficult to restrain myself. It isn't necessary to read the story beforehand, but some things from it will be referenced in this piece. If you love smut with fluff, feelsy smut (as someone on AO3 called this), and Daryl being a massive softie for his partner, then this one's for you.

Lydia/Vec/Vector (she goes by all of those) (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

As their relationship continues to strengthen, Lydia & Daryl begin exploring things in the bedroom. After many trials and tribulations, Lydia finally feels she's ready to take things all the way.

This is my first time ever writing smut, so please go easy on me. Constructive criticism is appreciated (emphasis on constructive), but please be gentle or I'll cry.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors

Word count: 7.3k

TW: referenced/mention of/allusion to sexual trauma, mention of panic attacks

CWs: swearing, smut (duh), oral sex (female receiving), p in v with protection (wrap it before you tap it my friends), gentle sex, Daryl losing his p in v virginity, dirty talk, praise kink, body worship (maybe? idk?), grinding, hand job (sort of), nipple stuff, a lil' bit of post-orgasm crying from our girl. Let me know if I forgot any!

“You’re practically drooling, Vec,” Rosita laughed, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I was only half-present in my response.

“Leave her,” Maggie giggled, “she’s off in her own little world.”

Winter had come to Alexandria, gracing our presence with its ice-cold temperatures and early sunsets. Snow hadn’t fallen yet this season, but it was certainly getting cold enough to do so. I had to break out some jeans and long sleeves, packing away my usual attire of shorts and sports bras for the next few months. Rosita, Maggie and I were sat on the front porch of Maggie & Glenn’s place. Rosita and Maggie had taken the opportunity to have some wine, saying they needed a way to warm themselves from the inside due to the cold. I skipped the alcohol, opting to warm myself with some tea instead. That and Daryl’s leather jacket. Even when he hadn’t been wearing it, his jacket still carried his warmth like it was storing it just for me.

When he was getting ready, I’d tried to convince him to put on his jacket, but he insisted I wear it, telling me he would be fine with a couple of flannels and his poncho. I believed him, as the layers combined with how warm he was all the time would surely keep him nice and toasty, but I also knew his weakness was seeing me in his clothes. That was further corroborated by how handsy he’d been that morning.

He was covering gate duty for the day, his crossbow locked and loaded in his arms, ready to take out anyone or anything that came too close. I was watching him, my mouth slightly agape, dissociating as the corners upturned into a small, delirious smile. There was nothing special or different about his appearance today, but he was looking particularly handsome.

I could’ve been ovulating, but I was down so bad for that man, I didn’t need to be ovulating to be drooling over him.

Rosita pretended to pick something up off the porch and held her hand out to me, palm up, the invisible object resting on it. “Here, I picked your jaw up off the floor for you. You’ll probably want it back. Y’know, so you can use it later.”

“Rosita, please. How many times do I have to tell you that your voice carries?” I snapped.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she teased, chuckling softly and taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re one to talk,” I sassed, “your mind practically lives in the gutter.”

“Let her ogle her man,” Maggie retorted. She swirled her wine glass in her hand, the red liquid spiraling up around the sides and nearly spilling over the edge, before taking a sip. “How are things with you two anyway?”

“Fantastic. It’s…it’s like a dream being with him,” I gushed. My eyes fell to my notebook, and the blood was rushing to my cheeks before I had even finished my sentence.

Daryl and I had been official for a few months now, probably four if I had to guess, though no one around here religiously kept track of dates. He treated me like a queen, doting on me despite any sort of little pushback I gave. I was Miss “I’m hyper-independent, let me do it myself,” and I’d met my Mr. “I know you can, but sit down and let me.” And I won’t lie, it had me weak. He was a goddamn angel. I got to wake up next to him each morning and fall asleep next to him each night. Daryl was perfect in every way. Being with him was perfect in every day.

“Still haven’t figured out how to stop blushing, I see,” she laughed. A small smile crossed my lips, and a breathy laugh escaped my nose.

“Daryl thinks it’s cute,” I replied, craning my head in her direction, “doesn’t exactly incentivize me to want to stop.”

There was a tension that hung in the air as Maggie began to ask me her next question. “So…have you...ummm—“

That tension was quickly cut by the sharp knife that was Rosita Espinosa. “How’s the sex?”

“Rosita!” Maggie & I gasped in unison. I gently whacked her arm with my notebook.

“I am not giving you any details about that,” I huffed. My cheeks were quickly turning red once again.

“I told you she wasn’t going to share anything,” Maggie whined, leaning back to talk to Rosita behind me.

I looked back and forth between them before burying myself back in my notebook. “I can’t believe you two.”

Even if I wanted to, truthfully, there wasn’t a whole lot to share.

Our sex life was a journey for the both of us. Daryl was a virgin before we began being intimate. I had given him a crash course in sex ed prior, as the little knowledge he did have about women came from his brother. And frankly, it was horribly inaccurate. Daryl said Merle was degrading when he talked about women, only discussing them in the context of sex and how it was for him. Couldn’t say I was surprised that he never bothered to try to teach Daryl how to please a woman. That didn’t matter to me though. Not having experience in pleasing women meant I got to teach him everything from pleasure points to dirty talk to my praise kink. And Christ, he was a quick learner.

It took some time for him to get confident in the dirty talk department, but he’d quickly mastered that skill once he saw how I responded to it. I had no issues going down on him. Getting comfortable with him going down on me took a bit more work, but he was nothing short of patient and understanding. Early on in that journey, there were times where I’d ask him to talk me through what he was doing, such as telling me where he was going to place his hand before doing so. That didn’t leave any room for surprises, and since I found his voice relaxing, there was a soothing aspect to it too. At first, I was worried he might find it silly, but he never did, Not once. More than anything, he was flattered that I found his voice comforting enough that I wanted to listen to it in our most intimate moments. We’d never gone all the way, but we’d come close a few times.

It had been a few weeks since we last tried, and I’d decided today was the day I was going to tell him I wanted to try again.

I’d been hyping myself up all day, even picking out a matching bra and panty set for later to boost my confidence. If you know, you know. I so badly wanted to experience him in that way. It was almost difficult to put into words how much my body craved him, ached to feel him in the most intimate way. But my brain always had to rear its ugly head and ruin it. It was simply doing its job—trying to protect me from the trauma that lied deep within the recesses of my mind. I couldn’t be too mad at that. My body tingled with nervous energy—excited nerves, anxious nerves, anticipatory nerves—and despite the butterflies in my stomach, I had a good feeling about this one.

“I’m sorry,” Rosita apologized, “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Or at least not been so crass about it.” I peered up at her over the brim of my glasses before adjusting them on my nose.

”I’m sorry too. We just want to know you’re…being taken care of,” Maggie assured.

I chuckled softly. Being taken care of…what a cute euphemism, I thought.

“You both know I can’t stay mad at you.” I looked up and watched Daryl as I continued. “It’s nothing personal, of course. It’s just…it would feel wrong to share details. I know he doesn’t talk about me like that. It wouldn’t feel right to do it to him.”

“We won’t bring it up again,” Maggie promised. She leaned back again, craning her neck to look around me. “Right, Rosita?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Right.”

“I won’t give you nitty gritty details, but I can assure you I’m being taken care of.” I smiled as Daryl turned in my direction, giving me a little nod. “That’s all you’re gonna get.”

I spent some more time with Rosita and Maggie before going home, gathering my notebook and tumbler and walking down the dirt path with an extra pep in my step. I wanted to get home before Daryl so I could get changed and spend some more time hyping myself up. Letting myself inside, I kicked my boots off and went upstairs, eager to change into the cute lingerie set I’d picked out. It was one I’d gotten months ago on a department store run, one that Daryl hadn’t seen yet. One that I’d been saving for a special occasion such as this.

I took the set out of my drawer and quickly undressed, tossing my clothes blindly behind me into some far corner of the bedroom. He could be home at any time, and I wanted to be ready, as well as be able to have some time to myself. I took one of Daryl’s black flannels and tossed it on, leaving it unbuttoned to show off my lingerie. I’d chosen a matching black set, the cups on the bra and the cheeky panties made entirely out of lace. My sternum tattoo peaked out from underneath, the blue flowers adding a pop of color to my dark attire. I adjusted my breasts in the cups, careful not to let my nails snag and tear the delicate fabric. I fidgeted with the straps to make it as comfortable as possible. I wore a 34B, so I met the criteria to join the itty bitty titty committee. My smaller chest had always been an insecurity of mine. I had a smaller frame, so my smaller breasts and butt looked proportionate on me. However, even I couldn’t escape the pre-apocalypse pressure of women’s beauty standards. Daryl didn’t care though. He didn’t care what size my itty bitty titties were or how big or small my butt was. He loved every square inch of me. Plus, he was just happy to be able to see me naked. I chuckled softly to myself as I recalled the first time Daryl saw my bare chest.

“Why ya got your eyes covered?” he’d asked as I approached him, topless and with my face buried in my hands.

“I don’t wanna see the look on your face when you don’t like what you see,” I said, my voice muffled by my hands and my cheeks quickly growing hot. I’d stopped in the hall and waited, anxious wiggling my toes as I heard him step closer. I could hear him laughing softly and feel him eyeing my bare breasts.

“Damn girl, ya got a nice rack,” he replied in an attempt to make me giggle. His hands fell to my hips and pulled my body against his before they wandered up to my hands, removing them from my eyes. I blinked them open, my baby blues meeting his for a brief moment before he kissed me, soft and tender, just like he always did. “Don’t got nothin’ to be shy ‘bout. You’re perfect.”

I fluffed my hair in the mirror, sweeping my bangs out of my eyes and running my fingers along my scalp. I smiled softly and did a few twirls, the hem of Daryl’s flannel flowing around my hips. The outfit was already boasting my confidence, and I knew Daryl was going to love it. He adored lace on me, and that combined with me wearing his shirt was going to drive him wild. I stepped around to the nightstand on my side of the bed and pulled the drawer open, checking to make sure there were still condoms inside, which there were. I rubbed my arms with my hands to try to keep warm. I could’ve put some pants on or threw a blanket around myself, but I wanted my lingerie to be on full display the second Daryl walked through the door. Plus, I’d be wrapped up in his warmth soon enough.

I was filled to the brim with nerves, both good and bad. Of course I was anxious. This would be a new step for us, a step we’d tried to make several times before. Unfortunately, my trauma always got in the way. But I was also excited. Excited to break boundaries, excited to slide into bed and be pleased by him in a new way. Excited to feel him in the way my body had been craving for months.

I heard the familiar creaking of the front door hinges, followed by the sound of Daryl’s bow clattering on the floor. I looked in the mirror and took one last deep breath before walking out. I rounded the corner from our bedroom and stepped out into the hall. The cold winter air that blew inside when he came in had quickly chilled the entire front of the house, the now icy wooden floor shocking my bare feet. I did my best to ignore the feeling.

“Hey handsome. Glad to see you home,” I called out as I made my way down the stairs. He kicked his boots off and turned around, the annoyed look on his face quickly turning into a flirty smirk as he laid his eyes on me. He folded his arms across his chest as he eyed me up and down.

“Lydia Rae, get your sweet ass over here,” he ordered. I skipped over to him, and he picked me up by the waist, spinning us around as he kissed me.

“I told you you’re not allowed to call me that,” I whined as he set me down. My arms remained draped around his neck, playing with the tag inside his shirt.

“Not unless ya’s in trouble.”

“Well what am I in trouble for?”

“For lookin’ so damn good.” His hands wandered down to my hips, his fingers fiddling with the sheer fabric of my panties. “This new?”

“Not new, no. I got this months ago. I’ve been saving it,” I explained. I dropped my eyes to the floor, wiggling my toes once again and scratching the side of my thumb with my index finger behind his head. I was already turning red. “Could we talk?”

“‘Course. What’s goin’ on?” he asked. My arms fell from around his neck to his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt as I often did when I was nervous. “Ya doin’ okay?”

“I’m okay,” I assured. I bit at the inside of my bottom lip. I was brimming with excitement, but the anxiety had my vocal cords in a chokehold. “I, umm…” I sighed and buried my face in his chest. “Shit,” I said under my breath.

Daryl kissed the top of my head and buried his nose in my hair, snaking his arms further around my hips to pull me closer. “Ain’t a mind reader. Gotta tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head o’ yours.”

“Fuck, this is harder than I thought.” I ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath as I did. I closed my eyes and let the words trickle off my tongue before my nerves could stop me. “I, umm…I think I wanna try again. No, sorry, not think. There’s no uncertainty. I wanna try again.”

There were a few beats of silence between that only lasted seconds, but in my mind, they lasted hours.

“Ya sure? Last time was…ya weren’t doin’ so good after that one,” he reminded.

He was right. Granted, every attempt had been similar to the last one, where I was left having a panic attack over who knows what trigger. But I’d done a lot of work on myself in the last couple of weeks, making sure there were no doubts in my mind about being ready.

“I’m sure.” I leaned my head up and kissed his cheek, which was quickly growing hot under my lips. “Very sure, baby. I’ve sat on it for weeks.” ‘Baby’ had become a pet name we only used to indicate to the other person we were in the mood & in the bedroom. 

He eyed me up and down again, his gaze lingering on the junction of my thighs. He’d seen me naked countless times now, but I still found my cheeks turning pink when he looked at me with lust in his eyes. As he closed the space between us again, he pulled my body firmly against his, encapsulating me in his warmth.

His tongue tickled my lips, silently seeking permission to enter. I parted my lips slightly, and our tongues tangled as his hands pulled at his shirt that hugged my body. I lowered my arms to allow it to fall to the floor, quickly bringing my hands back and tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging gently at his chocolate locks. My heart was pounding, the vibrations it sent through my chest radiating across my entire body. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime. A soft moan escaped me, and he pulled away, gently nibbling my bottom lip as an amused chuckle trickled off his.

“We got condoms?”

“Already checked.”

“Then let’s get somewhere more comfortable.” He picked me up by the waist and held me close, coaxing me to wrap my legs around him. I draped my arms around his neck and continued to play with his hair, the faint scent of our coconut shampoo a sexy juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.

“Daryl Dixon, don’t you dare drop me,” I laughed as he took us upstairs.

“Ain’t ever dropped ya ‘fore, have I?”

We were hardly in the bedroom door before his lips crashed into mine again. Despite the cold, there was already a light sheen of sweat forming on his skin. Those familiar electric sparks tickled my skin, and I smiled into our kiss, remembering the first time I felt those sparks, back when we first met & I walked out of my bedroom door past him, our arms brushing ever so slightly as I did. If only me then could see us now.

He sat back on the bed, laying down and propping me on his pelvis to straddle him. I snickered as pressure built up underneath me. His erection was already begging to be freed from the confines of his pants.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” I giggled, trailing a finger down the buttons of his flannel, drawing little shapes and slowing down as I got lower, “you just get turned on really easily.”

“You’re one to talk,” he teased.

“I mean, look at yourself. Can you blame me?” I tried to lean down to kiss him, but he dug his work-worn fingers into the flesh of my hips to pull me back.

“Just wanna look at ya for a sec.” He held my hips in place with his firm grip, and the pink of my cheeks quickly turned to a rosy red as his cock continued to rise under me, coming in contact with my core. I bit my lip and averted my gaze. Even after all this time, it was nearly impossible to keep eye contact with Daryl when I was blushing. His eyes trailed up to my breasts, and I gathered my hair out of the way to allow him to get a better look. He was devouring every square inch of me with his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Ya change your mind, just say the word,” he reassured. He drew little circles on the front of my hip bones with his thumbs. The tone in his voice shifted to a more serious one as his gaze met mine. “I mean it. Ain’t gonna upset me at all. Don’t want ya pushin’ yourself just so’s I can get my rocks off.”

“I know. I won’t push myself, I promise.”

He pulled me down to his level, our tongues meeting once again. My panties were already soaked, wetness seeping through and coating his jeans as I grinded against him. Hitched, grunt-like moans escaped him, which only turned me on further. Daryl knew how much I loved when he was vocal in bed.

As I continued to straddle him, his hands found my bra clasp, unhooking it with one swift motion and allowing my breasts to fall free. I pulled away just long enough to slide the dainty fabric off and blindly throw it somewhere in the room. I began working at the buttons on his shirt, caressing his chest as I traveled south.

“Shit,” he moaned as I tossed my head back and shook my hair out. He gripped my hips again and rolled us over, pushing me onto my back and pressing his weight onto me. His mouth fell to the sweet spot on my neck, first leaving open-mouthed kisses, then licking and softly nibbling. A series of moans interlaced with soft giggles rolled off my tongue.

When we first began being intimate, him putting his weight on me used to be a big trigger of mine. Now, there was a safety in being underneath him, being protected by him when I was at my most vulnerable. I loved the feeling of his weight on me, and even in the most sensual contexts, it brought back those butterflies I used to get when we were getting to know each other.

His hands kneaded my breasts, his thumbs tweaking my nipples and eliciting little gasps from me. I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in every sensory experience, small waves of pleasure beginning to wash over me. I continued to blindly work at his shirt, which was almost completely unbuttoned now. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat with how hard and fast it was pounding.

Daryl trailed kisses down my neck to my chest, tracing little shapes with his tongue down to my breast. My head fell back on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and gritting my teeth as he flicked and sucked and licked the supple tissue.

“Goddamnit,” I groaned. I frantically tugged at his shirt, and he pulled away just long enough to rip it off and throw it over his shoulder before focusing his mouth back where it belonged.

He planted sloppy kisses along my sternum tattoo, leaving a light sheen of saliva behind, as if he was marking his territory. As he came back to kiss me, he put his weight on me again,

grinding his clothed cock on my core to the rhythm of his tongue swirling in my mouth.

I had to restrain myself from digging my nails into his back, as I worried the sensation might be too smilier to what caused his scars. I gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life, balling it in my fists with such force, I was sure my nails would tear right through them. The friction of his jeans against my clit was euphoric.

“Oh…God…fuck, yes.”

He chuckled and dropped his head to my neck, his soft lips and gruff voice tickling my ear like a feather as he talked. “Ya like that?”

“God yes,” I replied through gritted teeth, “don’t stop.”

He was rock hard, his erection pleading to be freed from its prison with each pass over my most sensitive area. He was practically throbbing in his jeans as he continued to grind into me, and feeling him twitch, knowing I was the one making him feel this good, only brought me closer to release.

“Shit.” His strained groaning in my ear sent tingles through my core.

“Ok…ok, that’s enough.” I tapped on his shoulder, indicating for him to stop. He did so immediately, panting in an attempt to catch his breath. As much as I was enjoying the feeling, I didn’t want to come just yet.

Daryl brushed some strands of hair out of my eyes and kissed my cheek. “Ya doin’ alright?” Even when he was in the throes of pleasure, Daryl always checked in with me throughout our intimate escapades, making sure I was comfortable.

“I’m great.” I lightly panted and nodded. “But you know what would make me feel even better?”

“What’s that?”

“If you put that skilled tongue of yours to use elsewhere.” The sexiest smirk I’d ever seen crossed his lips as blood rushed to my cheeks. Even after many sessions of mattress action, I was still timid in asking for what I wanted.

“Think that can be arranged.”

He kissed down my body, incorporating more of his tongue the lower he got. Every muscle in my body was clenched, and I fought to keep myself still. Stopping just above my panties, he slid the delicate fabric down my hips and off my legs, letting them naturally fall off my ankles. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me to him as he settled into his favorite spot.

He planted soft kisses along my slit, teasing and taunting me by licking and dipping the tip of his tongue in my entrance. My head was back on the bed, my eyes already beginning to roll back in my skull, but I could feel him staring up at me from between my legs, his eyes glossed over with lust and passion. The way Daryl looked at me, kissed me, touched me, was something akin to worship.

“You’re so beautiful. Love seein’ ya like this, gettin’ all worked up just for me.” His sultry Southern accent was dirty talk all on its own, and combined with words of praise made me tingle from head to toe. He left a few more long, teasing kisses before slipping his tongue between my folds of aching flesh.

He was slow at first, taunting me just the way I liked as he repeatedly flicked my clit. As he picked up speed, I reached for his head, tangling my fingers in his hair and rocking my pelvis in motion with his fluid tongue as he brought me closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. I became so lost in the throes of lust that I was struggling to gain control of myself, bucking and shaking and squeezing my thighs together. His moans and grunts sent vibrations across my core, the sounds that dripped off his lips evidence that he, too, was in ecstasy. This was just as much for him as it was for me. My fingers in his hair, being surrounded by my warmth, the intoxicating taste of me coating his tongue…this was his paradise.

“You’re shakin’, baby.” His hands gently pressed against my knees, coaxing them apart. “Gotta keep your legs open for me.”

Fuck, I’ve taught him well, I thought.

Shockwaves of pleasure radiated through every cell of my body. The only sounds echoing off the walls were my mix of luscious moans and delirious giggles. I used to be self-conscious about how loud I was the bedroom, but Daryl had assured me on numerous occasions of how hot he thought it was, how they were sounds often on repeat in his dreams.

“I’m close,” I said, words coming out broken though breathy moans, “so close, baby.”

Daryl took that as his cue to pick up speed, his magical tongue rapidly encircling my most sensitive area and devouring me like I was his last goddamn meal. Every centimeter of my skin was burning with pure ecstasy as the metaphorical cord in my center grew more taut with each pass of his tongue. I instinctively bucked into him, gently tugging on his hair and eliciting more deep grunts and groans from him, and my eyes rolled back into my head as the suction on my swollen clit pushed me over the edge.

“Ah…ah—fuck!” My cries were followed by my signature string of giggles, the telltale sign that I had climaxed. Daryl plunged his tongue in my entrance, yearning to feel my walls twitch around him as I rode out my high.

“That’s my good girl,” he hummed, leaving one last long, tender kiss between my legs.

As my body came down from the peak of pleasure, he crawled back onto me, leaving kisses along my jawline. I was all delirious smiles as the kisses trailed to the sensitive spot under my ear, all the while repeating how much he loved me. No man had ever cared about my pleasure in the way Daryl had. He always made sure to get me off first, and often, more than once.

“Ya still doin’ alright?” he asked, running a hand through my hair and lightly massaging my scalp with his fingers.

“Oh, I’m fantastic,” I replied, giggles still intertwined with my words. His signature little grin crossed his lips as he kissed me again, slipping his tongue in to allow me to taste myself on him.

“Ya wanna keep goin’?”

“Yeah.” I hoped my nod and tone of voice would mask the anxiety creeping up in my chest. Alas, it did not. This man was somehow attuned to my every thought, reading me like a damn book no matter how hard I tried to keep a poker face.

“What’s goin’ on?” The tone of voice softened, and I could tell he was starting to get worried. This was typically the point where I would start having a panic attack, and he was bracing himself to jump into action.

I bit the inside of my bottom lip and nodded again, dropping my gaze. “Mhm. Just a little nervous is all.”

“We can stop,” he reassured, “like I said, ain’t gonna upset me.”

“I wanna keep going. I’m alright, I promise. Just first-time butterflies is all. Those’ll be around until…y’know, it’s not the first time anymore.” I brushed strands of hair out of his eyes, tucking them behind his ear as I brought my gaze back to his. The safety that lied within those baby blue eyes soothed me instantly. “I’m sure you’ve got some of those too, right?”

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “Maybe, yeah.” He dropped his gaze for a moment before bringing it back to mine, biting his lip. “Was worried ya might…I dunno. Just didn’t want ya worryin’ ‘bout me. Wanted ya to focus on yourself.”

“Aww, baby,” I cooed, taking his face in my hands and tenderly caressing his cheekbones with my thumbs, “it’s alright to be nervous. We’re doing something new for the first time. It’s gonna be a little nerve-wracking for both of us.” I kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “Do you wanna keep going?”

He adjusted himself to straddle me, my wetness further soaking his jeans. He left a few more tender, open-mouthed kisses on the sweet spot on my neck before sitting up, tossing his head back and shaking out his chocolate locks.

“Sure do.”

I bit my bottom lip as I unbuckled his belt, sliding it off and tossing it down beside me, the buckle clattering on the floor. I rubbed him over his jeans, lingering and swirling my fingers over his swollen tip. I licked my lips in anticipation, my core tingling and aching to feel every inch of him. His breathing picked up, small grunts and groans trickling off his lips, one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. I paused to unbutton and unzip his jeans, his erection breaking free the moment it had even a hint of wiggle room.

I pulled him from his boxers and stroked him. The bulging veins on his member pulsated under my grip, and he was so rigid, you would’ve thought he was made of stone. A small bit of precum started to leak out, which I eagerly swiped up with my finger, maintaining eye contact with him as I licked it off my hand before continuing. He tossed his head back again, his mouth falling open as I drew circles with my thumb over his sensitive red tip. 

“Christ, woman.” He removed my hand from himself, kissing the back of it and placing it on his chest. His heart was pounding, his ribcage the only barrier keeping it from bursting from his body. “Keep touchin’ me like that, ain’t gon’ last much longer.”

Daryl climbed off of me and dropped the rest of his clothes to the floor. I watched as he retrieved a condom from the nightstand drawer, carefully tearing it open so as to not rip the rubber. I pulled myself up and adjusted, propping my head onto the pillows at the head of the bed. I watched with hungry eyes as he slid the condom down his length. I was craving him, aching, needing to feel him fill me in the most intimate way possible. Though there was still a small presence of nerves, the butterflies in my stomach were beginning to settle. I was ready.

“Ya comfortable?” he asked as he propped his arms up on either side of me and settled between my legs.

“Very,” I responded, “are you?”

“Mhm.” He dropped his head back into the crook of my neck, lips grazing the helix of my ear as his gravely voice whispered erotic promises to me. “Wanna look at ya while it’s happenin’. See how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” I dropped my gaze and snickered as the blood rushed to my cheeks. Only Daryl was capable of making me giggle and blush like a schoolgirl.

His cock twitched on its own accord, grazing my clit as it did and sending little shockwaves through my center. “Ya sure you’re good?”

“I’m great, I promise,” I assured. I ran my hands through his hair and down his neck around to his chest, his muscles flexing as I caressed him.

“Just got one last question.”

The blush on my cheeks returned again. “What’s that?” I wondered. Like I didn’t know exactly what he was about to ask me.

“Can I fuck you?”

“Christ, yes.”

He took his time entering me, sliding in slowly to soak in every second of the feeling. My mouth fell open, and I looked down between us for a moment to watch him slip inside me. His cock slowly sinking further into my entrance was a beautiful sight.

The face he made when he first slid in…I’d give anything to see that face again, to capture a still of it and it imprint it into my memory forever.

“Shit, ya feel good,” he moaned, his head falling into the crook of my neck. 

“Kinda…tilt your pelvis…” I instructed, placing my hands on his hips to help guide his adjustment, “to get—oh, there you go.” His pubic bone put the ideal amount of pressure on my clit as he thrusted. “Nice and easy.”

“How’s that feel?”

“So good,” I replied, words spilling out me between moans as we kissed, “you feel so good.”

I was aching for him to return every time he pulled out. His tongue was magic, but his cock was otherworldly. He was the perfect size, comfortably filling every square inch of me and bottoming out with each thrust. It was like he was crafted just for me, and I was crafted just for him.

My eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, baby.” The words trickled off my lips like an erotic prayer.

“You’re so sexy.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I love ya so much.”

I echoed his adoration, the words coming out between huffs and puffs. “I love you too…so much…you can…go faster…if you want…”

I opened my eyes in time to see him smirk, and I gasped at the pleasure that rolled through me as he picked up speed. “That what ya want?”

“Mhm.” After a few quick thrusts, he slowed his pace again, this time pumping in and out even slower than when he started.

“Ya know I need to hear ya say it,” he reminded. When it came to consent, a nod or an “mhm” or moan in response wasn’t good enough for Daryl. He needed verbal confirmation every single time, and to me, it was one of the hottest things about him.

“Yes,” I practically begged, “I…” I averted his gaze and bit my lip, my cheeks growing hot as I blushed the hardest I had so far. “I want it faster.”

The sinful sounds of skin-on-skin and salacious moans entangled as he repeatedly thrusted deep into my core. My breasts bobbed as we rocked back and forth, the squeaking of the bed becoming the harmony complimenting the melody of our bodies. Despite my eyes being closed, I could feel his on me, watching as my face warped and contorted with each wave of euphoria he sent between my legs. His moans were almost animalistic in nature, and his body was rigid, his face turning red as his breathing became more rapid. He was desperate for release, and it was evident that he had needed me just as much as I needed him. The enticing sounds slipping off his tongue were sounds I often played on repeat in my head when he was gone, my dreams recollections of our past intimate endeavors. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into the small of his back, allowing for him to hit my G-spot at the perfect angle.

“Ugh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Wanna feel it,” Daryl growled, hardly able to form a complete sentence as his tongue followed the curve of my helix, “wanna feel ya twitchin’ ‘round my cock.” I could tell he was close too, using every fiber of his being to hold himself back until I could get off first.

“Mmm…fuck…oh God.” Small initial shockwaves of pleasure began to roll through me, subtle and almost muted at first, letting me know what was waiting for me once I peaked.

“That’s it.” His voice was a sexy dichotomy of gravely and silky smooth as he nibbled at the sensitive spot below my ear. “Ya gonna be a good girl ’n scream my name?”

That alone almost sent me over the edge.

All I could do was nod in response, my eyes squeezed shut and moaning sweet nothings directly into his ear. My legs were beginning to shake, and I knew it was only going to be a few more strokes before ecstasy took over. I was moments from coming undone.

“Mmm…oh…oh, Daryl!”

I clung to him for dear life as I came, my body trembling and writhing underneath him. My fingers dug into his back muscles, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, practically gasping for air as orgasmic bliss nearly took my breath away. I bucked into him instinctively, demanding to feel continued pressure on my clit as I rode out the most intensive waves of pleasure yet. My walls clenching around him, along with my signature string of lewd giggles, were the catalyst to his release.

“Aah! Shit!” Strained moans and gasps came out through gritted teeth as his forehead fell to mine. I gasped at the feeling of him pulsating inside me as he emptied into the condom. He continued to frantically thrust, prolonging both my pleasure and his, before relaxing in my arms, the happy hormones coursing through him bringing a smile to his face. He trailed kisses along my jawline, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Every muscle in my body felt like jelly. My limp legs slid off onto the bed, and my head fell to the pillow, eyes rolling back. I stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths and listening to my heart pounding in my chest. My ears felt full, like when the air pressure changes on a plane. Every cell in my body was singing his praises, and I was seeing stars.

He pulled out once he went limp inside me, rolling over to remove the condom, tying it off and letting it drop to the floor. He grabbed the covers and pulled them up over us, coming back and pulling me close to him. He’d rolled onto his side, propping himself on one arm and leaning over in my line of sight, running his other hand through my hair.

“Hi beautiful,” he practically cooed, kissing my cheek. A silly, delirious smile broke out on my lips.

“I think I just saw God,” I laughed, eliciting an amused chuckle from Daryl. As I panted, my gaze met his, and he kissed me again, tenderly, just like he always did. Even in the naughtiest contexts, this man never made me feel anything short of loved and adored.

“Ya know, I’ve tried my damndest to recreate that sexy little giggle in my head when I’s on the road, but ain’t nothin’ like hearin’ it from the source.” My cheeks began to turn rosy red at the thought of Daryl thinking about me to relieve himself when he was away for too long. “How ya feelin’?”

With those three little words, a myriad of post-coitus emotions coursed through me. Pride, joy, appreciation, and love, just to name a few, hit me like a train and sent me careening into a fit of tears. I was immediately overwhelmed, the feeling building in my chest overflowing as tears streamed down my face and soaked the sheets below me. Even though they were happy feelings, there were a lot of them, more than my body was able to handle in my current state.

“Hey, you’re ok.” He leaned over me, wiping tears off my cheeks and wrapping his other arm underneath me. “What’s wrong?”

The tone of his voice had dropped, and he looked sad, like he felt awful, like he thought he’d done something wrong. The worry radiating off of him was palpable, and I could tell that he thought I was spiraling into a panic attack. I gave him a big, stupid grin, kissing all over his face to reassure him that these were, in fact, happy tears.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” I promised, holding his face in my hands and stroking his cheeks with my thumbs, kissing the tip of his nose, “I’m just…overwhelmed, but with good feelings.” I blinked back more tears and took another deep breath. “I did it. I’m so proud of myself. And it was…you were…incredible. First time having sex that was so good, I cried after.”

“That good, huh?” he smirked. He adjusted his position over me, puffing his chest out a bit as he did. Clearly, I’d boosted his ego.

“Mhm. Really good,” I reiterated, biting the inside of my bottom lip as a faint blush of pink returned to my cheeks once again. “How are you feeling? How was your first…time getting your dick wet?”

“Amazin’. I mean, you were amazin’,” he replied, “happy ya said somethin’ when I got home. Ya’s lookin’ so good, I almost lost it.” His fingers trailed down my side, circling over the tattoo on the front of my right hip. “Gotta start dressin’ like that more often.”

I looked up at him, my baby blues locking with his as I gave him a soft smile. Every ounce of love I had for the beautiful man in front of me fought to break free from my chest as my heart swelled in my ribcage. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me. “Takin’ care of…’t’s cute.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon

[griffinisgae]

Hello! I am here to tell you I am obsessed with My Thesis is a Demigod. Thank you so much for giving us fun fluffy but also feelsy AU food with these goobers!!! (with bonus Shadowheart and Lae fyeah)

I was wondering if you had any other fic plans you maybe wanted to share or tease (yes I am FISHING) or if you had any recs you wanted to shout out that would be super cool aswell! But thank you in any case and keep on truckin!

Oh my god! you're so kind and I'm so glad you're enjoying! :D this made my evening hehe

i am not sure what to "tease" per se, but I have so many ideas I want to write! (I will soon have more time to get them out hehe) and also ton of AUs I have been pondering (fallout, cyberpunk, high fantasy, you name it, I love to daydream all of em), also a couple of which are inspired by super cool art from @demytrixi!

This ask is my dream come true because I also get to spew some of the fics I've been re-reading on the regular (these are by no means all my faves, I have so many faves! these ones were just to hand :D)

Keepers of old, keep us from cold - smutty, and so good with a nice amount of fluff and feels!

Ardent Devotion - because i adore the concept of Isobel being one wine glass deep into her confession to Aylin, and Aylin being an oblivious goof that was scared to impose her feelings onto her

dying to be born again - because I love autopsy scars isobel. also honestly anything else by redledgers! shower them with love here: @buckysleftarm

Moon-chosen, Moon-guided  - recently finished!! aylin/isobel goodness including dealing with trauma, fluff, and much wonderful stuff. amazing read. also anything by theblindbandit! shower them with love here: @oathkeeper-of-tarth

Smitten by Moonlight - i am eating this up every Friday when the author usually uploads! ongoing pre-canon cuties

A Taste of Heaven (In a Confessional Booth) - ... no comment but I didn't think church smut was what I needed (it is)

anyone who sees this feel free to add more to the list, there are so many fics worthy of recognition!

[youwouldntlietopapa]

"I'm not jealous, you are jealous."

With Primo

This is anon and it’s definitely not Beth ❤️

I love you and I like you thank you bye

Oof, okay, this one got more feelsy that I was aiming for. Sorry not sorry.

_________________________________________________________

“Buongiorno, sorella.” Primo’s greeting sounds unusually formal and a bit flat when you walk into the greenhouse. Not his usual warm welcome or his smile. In fact, he hasn’t looked up from his work table where he was fussing over one of his plants.

“… Good morning, Papa.” You respond, sounding more like you’re asking a question than offering a hello. “It’s nearly tea time.”

It’s become a habit over the last few weeks. Tea with Primo in the greenhouse at 10:30. Late enough in the morning that he’s ready for a break and early enough to give you some time to spend together before lunch. It’s… something. Neither of you have been willing to name it or put rules to it. It simply is what it is and you’re content knowing that you’re both comfortable and happy with your arrangement, without worrying too much about the rest. Sharing his bed (or work bench, or chair, or whatever else is at hand) when the mood strikes, and enjoying his company just as much.

You walk over, setting the tea tray down on the bench next to where he’s working. Primo still doesn’t look, shifting his weight subtly to make any attempt at a kiss on the cheek awkward if not impossible. It’s not like him to behave that way and definitely not like him to not even offer a thank you for bringing pastries from the kitchens.

“Not today, I think.” He says bluntly. “I am very busy.”

You blink at him for a long moment. “Replanting that hosta? Primo, if you’re going to lie to me, could you at least make it less insultingly transparent?”

He huffs. “I did not think you would come today. I have things to do.”

“Why wouldn’t I come today, of all days?” That’s all the patience you have for talking to his back and you walk around him to actually see his face. “If I did something, I wish you would tell me.”

“You did nothing. I just assume you would be with Cardinal Doyle this morning. Too busy for tea out here.” He says Doyle’s name like a curse, his mouth twisting sourly.

It takes a moment for the meaning to sink in, like an unexpected slap in the face. You had been talking to the Cardinal or, more like, he was talking to you. The other Sisters had already warned you about that man and his wandering hands. He was a menace and a pest, and also had seniority. It was very hard not to talk to him once he got it in his head to talk to you.

“What on Earth are you talking about, Primo? Do you mean at breakfast?”

“In the hall, si. You seemed very interested in what he had to say. I hear him telling you to come to his office later.” He finally looks at you, trying to keep his face neutral but his pale eye glows in the muted light of the greenhouse. “You are not obligated here, Sorella. If you wish to meet with the Cardinal, I am capable of entertaining myself.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You stare at him, stunned. “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“Are you forgetting who you are talking to?” In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve never heard Primo play the I am Papa card. Definitely not with you. He’s told you more times than you care to count that he’s too old for juvenile dick measuring contests. I always win those anyway, he winks every time.

But not today, apparently.

“I thought I knew. But I’m starting to wonder.” You pause and look at him, pieces clicking together. “Are you… Are you jealous???”

Primo scoffs and dusts the dirt off his hands, marching across the greenhouse to look for a larger pot. “Now you are just being ridiculous!”

“Me!? You’re the one who’s all bent out of shape because I was talking to Cardinal Doyle – who approached me by the way! He’s my superior, what was I meant to do? Walk away? I’m so sorry, Cardinal, Papa Primo will be absolutely miserable if I talk to anyone else! A rule I was supposed to just intuit, as it happens. I know, very odd, but you must know that I can read Papa’s mind and know exactly what he wants without him ever actually telling me!”

That certainly got his attention. Primo turned back, pulling himself up tall. It was easy to forget how imposing he could be. Easy to forget that Papa Secondo was his little brother. His little brother who still wouldn’t cross the eldest Emeritus. But you are quickly reminded, fighting the urge to try and shrink down, to back away.

“You may speak to whomever you wish, Sorella. You do not belong to me, clearly. If it is Doyle you want, you have my blessing. May the Old One bring you both nothing but happiness.” His tone was icy cold.

“You are jealous!” Is all you can think to retort. Maybe not your finest comeback and definitely not ideal timing, but no one ever said you were good at keeping your mouth shut.

“I am not jealous. You are jealous!” Primo snaps.

This time you do stand there, looking like he slapped you. Part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity and part wants to scream. Not able to make a decision, what finally comes out of your mouth is simply, “Who in all the depths of hell is it I’m jealous of, exactly?”

“I see you yesterday, and several days before that, Sorella. Don’t think I am so old and feeble I don’t notice. The way you glare daggers at Sorella Abigail when she comes to talk with me.” There mockery in his tone meant to get under your skin and it works all too well.

“Abigail???” You are very aware of how loud you’ve both gotten and the greenhouse walls aren’t thick. But to hell with it. “You think I’m jealous of Abigail???”

“Si, Sorella.” He fires back snidely. “You deny it?”

“Satanas, I think I had better just go get your brothers because I think they may need to take you to the doctor for whatever head injury you’ve apparently suffered. Jealous of Abigail. Lucifer be merciful. Of all the absurd things you could have said. The last person I will ever be jealous of is that catty, manipulative, power hungry little social climber. You can talk to her whenever you want, Papa, I just thought she was making a damned fool of herself, aiming to be rejected by the third Papa this month!”

“And you were, what? Going to Doyle’s office just for a nice chat? Hmm? Everyone here knows who he is. What he does. Don’t tell me you don’t know. I see right through you. You want to fuck that stronzo, you go ahead. And when you are sorry and disappointed, don’t come back here crying to me. I try to warn you.” He slams the bigger pot for the hosta down on the bench so hard it cracks.

“I don’t want to fuck Doyle!” You shout back at him. The shadow of a ghoul on the greenhouse wall freezes, pressing a little closer to listen. You know that silhouette. “SWISS, FUCK OFF!”

The shadow skitters away, leaving you to your shouting match.

“I was only talking to him because his fucking sister is a florist and she knows people who deal in rare flowers, you absolute dickhead! All I wanted was her number so I could surprise you because it’s your birthday next month! But I suppose I won’t need to worry about that now, will I? I don’t need to ask you what this is or if you want more. I don’t need to tell you how I feel. You’re the brilliant Papa who’s already got it all figured out. It’s Doyle I want, right? Just my type. Creepy scumbag who keeps trying to feel me up. Not the man I actually spend all my free time with. Not the man I actually get excited to see.” Your anger and your hurt collide and your voice cracks. All the energy you’d had for yelling vanishing at once.

“Not the man I actually love.” Your eyes drop to the floor because it hurts to look at him, and all you can manage is a tired sigh. “I’m so sorry I bothered you, Papa. Please forgive me. I won’t keep you from your work any longer.”

His hand catches your elbow before you can reach the door and when you look back at him, there’s something panicked and uncertain in his eyes. A hope he’s afraid to give voice to, half certain it will crumble to dust if he tries.

“You don’t mean that.” It’s not angry or even accusing. Just disbelief.

The tears on your cheeks burn like acid. Traitors, every one of them. “You’re going to call me a liar now too?”

“Tesoro…”

“Don’t snip at me about treating you like you’re old and feeble and then tell me you didn’t know, Primo.” You hang your head and give in to the exhaustion. “I love you. Of course I love you. I spend every morning waiting to come out here just to see you. To be with you. To be close to you. You had to know.”

“Why didn’t you say?” His hand slips from your elbow to your hand.

“Say what, Primo? That it wasn’t enough? Because it was. It was enough to just… to just have you to myself for a little while. A few minutes. An hour. Whatever I got. I could make it enough because it was better than nothing. And if… if I said it and it was wrong… it would vanish. I couldn’t… I couldn’t risk that.”

His warm arms envelope you, wrapping you in the smell of fresh turned earth and a dozen different herbs you can’t hope to name all of. The sound of his heartbeat, faster than its usual steady rhythm. His hand rubbing your back, soothing and calm.

“Mi dispiace.” That voice, that’s the one you know. Primo’s voice. “Mi dispiace, angelo mio. Forgive me. I don’t have an excuse. I am a fool. A fool who doesn’t deserve you.”

His finger hooks under your chin and lifts it to look you in the eye. Gently drying your tears, cupping your cheek. “I thought…” He sighs, shaking his head at himself. “I see the way he hangs around you. Like a fly, always buzzing. But you smile, you laugh and I think… Satan knows what I think. Stupid, ridiculous, petty things. Because he is still young, he is flashy and confident… And I am…”

“Perfect.” You finish for him. “You are perfect.”

Primo presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. “Far from perfect. But for you, fiore mio, I will keep trying to be.” His lips brush against yours softly. “Anch'io ti amo… from the start. The very beginning. No matter how many times I tell myself you don’t need an old man holding you back. I can’t help it. I don’t want to. Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Ti amo così tanto che non riesco a pensare lucidamente.”

When you stretch up to kiss him again, it’s no light brushing of lips. Your hands catch the back of his neck and you kiss him deeply, passionately, the way you’ve held back from anywhere but bed. Worried it would overstep some line. Break some unwritten rule. But he leans into the kiss, meeting you with equal desire and need. His arms crushing you to himself.

When you finally break away and look back at him, it’s like seeing a new man. “Does that mean we can still have tea?”

“No.” He says firmly. Letting you go and taking your hand, he starts walking quickly toward the far end of the greenhouse, hidden by a thick layer of foliage, to the private room you two have made use of before.

“No. Today, amore, I still have apologies to make and lost time to make up for.”

________________________________________________________

Anch'io ti amo = I love you too

Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Ti amo così tanto che non riesco a pensare lucidamente. = I love you. I love you so much. I love you so much I can't think straight.

[aralezinspace]

Pale

Requested by Anonymous: I was wondering if you’d be willing to write an angsty request (TW) with Morpheus being in an established relationship with the reader, but since he doesn’t eat and is not used to the schedules of humans—he doesn’t notice they have an eating disorder. But someone else points out that they never/rarely eat/only pick at their food and Dream just can’t let it go/stop thinking about it. I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort and I haven’t seen any stories for Morpheus where the reader has an ED

A/N: Warnings: reader has an eating disorder, general eating disorder discussion

you asked for angst? I WILL DELIVER ANGST *cackles* no lie tho, I teared up writing this one. I hope anyone who needs this kind of comfort finds it in this story, and that if you are struggling with this yourself, know that you are not alone (I'm just a stranger on the interwebs but I'm rooting for you) and have access to the help you need 💖💖

I started writing some ✨feelsy spice✨ for this but then it would have been an absolute BEHEMOTH so uh if anyone wants to read PWP/PWF ask and ye shall receive xD

~~Requests for Morpheus and the Doctor (9-13) are open!~~

“The New Inn,” your read aloud, hands jammed into your pockets as you and Morpheus approached the building. You gave him a little nudge and a playful smirk. “What happened to the old one?”

As usual, the current of the joke went right past him. “It was torn down,” he replied with a hint of melancholy, “Hob Gadling purchased the land and rebuilt it… so we could continue to meet.”

“Every hundred years, right?” A nod. Your brow furrowed as you did the mental math, a headache beginning to pound behind your eyes. “I thought your next meeting wasn’t for another decade or so.”

Dream peered at you out of the corner of his eye, a tiny smile lighting up his face. “You are correct. However, I recently learned that once every hundred years is too infrequent to see one’s friend. And…” He held the door open for you, a perfect gentleman. “I believed it was time for the two of you to become acquainted.”

You gave Dream a beaming grin; you knew how big of a step this was for him. It was a huge step for both of you: your relationship wasn’t exactly new, but it had taken a long time of you asking, and a while for Dream to agree to this. The significance of today was not lost on you, and a little shiver went down your spine.

Hob was sitting in his usual corner near the window, already nursing a pint of amber beer. He rose to his feet with a grin when his eyes found his ‘stranger.’

“Hello stranger,” he greeted Dream with a beaming smile, holding out his hand for a shake. You had to give Morpheus a little nudge but he eventually gave Hob a firm handshake and a little nod of his head. Warm brown eyes then darted to you, quickly roving up and down your body, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. So, this is the one who has so captivated the famously aloof and closed off Dream of the Endless. His first thoughts were that you seemed to be open and kind, but strong and perceptive as well- a perfect combination for his stranger. Loving and giving, but also wouldn’t take his shit.

“Hob,” Morpheus began with a gentle and gallant hand at the small of your back, “This is Y/N, my... my partner.” You held out a hand for a shake, meeting his eyes with a warm smile. Instead of shaking it, Hob gently took your hand and kissed the back before giving it a light squeeze.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. The change you have brought on our mutual friend is nothing short of astounding.”

A flush touched your cheeks in time with your giggle, the sound slightly choked as the pounding in your head intensified. Morpheus gave you both a tiny frown, but there was no real ire behind it. Hob gestured for the two of you to sit. Once again, a perfect gentleman, Morpheus pulled out your chair for you to sit before stiffly sitting himself. Hob gestured to the bar and a waitress came over to take your orders. Hob ordered another beer and a sandwich, Morpheus minutely shook his head, and the waitress’ eyes came to you.

“Umm…” you glanced at the menu and ordered the first appetizer your eyes focused on. “I’ll have a water and a cup of the onion soup, please.” The waitress nodded with a smile and headed back to the bar.

You mostly listened as Hob and Morpheus caught up- meaning Hob did most of the talking and you and Dream listened. He was full of entertaining and touching stories from his hundreds of years of being alive, all the ups and downs and everything in between. Hob started asking you about your life as the food arrived: what you did for work, if you had pets (not counting Morpheus), what you did in your free time (besides Morpheus).

By the time you had to leave, you had only eaten about half of your soup, both from the fact that the idea of eating made you feel ten shades of awful, and because Hob had kept you talking with his easy going charm. Your headache had faded, only to be replaced by jitters, chills, nausea, and a fog tightly bound to your mind. You excused yourself to the bathroom before you left, barricading yourself in a stall and sitting on the toilet before you passed out.

You doubled over, head hanging between your knees to try alleviating the light-headedness. A deep breath shuddered in and out of your lungs. You massaged your temples, trying to get the rest of your headache to go away. You knew you would have to go back out soon, or Hob and Dream would get suspicious. One more deep breath and you hauled yourself to your feet. You plastered a smile on your face as you stepped out of the bathroom. Hob and Morpheus were waiting by the door, their coat collars turned up and hands jammed into their pockets. Both smiled in their own ways when you approached, but Hob’s immediately fell from his face.

“No offense,” he began carefully, “Your face is kind of pale, are you feeling okay?”

“Oh yea, I’m fine,” you responded a little too quickly. “Just a bit tired, work has been busy.” Hob didn’t press it, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced.

~~

You and Morpheus met up with Hob almost every two or three weeks, mostly at Hob’s request, to get to know you and “make up for lost time.” Most of the time you met at the New Inn for lunch or drinks, but you did have Hob over to your apartment for dinner twice. He was very appreciative of your cooking, asking to bring home the leftovers.

Hob kept a close eye on you during visits. Steadily, his concerns grew: not about your fitness as a partner, although he was pleased and comforted by how much you cared for his stranger and how well you worked together. No, he was concerned for your physical well-being, and the fact Morpheus didn’t notice. How could someone as observant and almost omnipotent as Morpheus not notice how little you ate?

He finally brought it to Dream’s attention one night at your apartment. You had been cooking dinner, gently stirring a pot of pasta, when you asked Hob to mind the stove before rushing off to the bathroom, pale and shaking. He stirred in silence for a moment before peaking at Dream over his shoulder. The endless was seated on your slightly squishy couch like it was a throne, his hands folded serenely in his lap, staring straight ahead. Must be plugged into the Dream Matrix, he thought to himself.

“Dream?” Morpheus’ eyes focused again as he turned to Hob, eyebrows slightly raised in permission to go on. “It’s not my place, but… is Y/N alright?” He paused. “I’ve noticed when we’re together, they… don’t really… eat. Much of anything.”

Morpheus’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Why mention this to me? They are perfectly capable of caring for themselves and eating when their body demands.” Hob sighed.

“Yes, I normally would agree, but… they always seem pale, and weak, and ready to fall over. I’m sure you know, that’s not an indication of good health in a human.”

A deep frown etched itself into Dream’s face as he thought on Hob’s words, and realized his friend was right. “I… never noticed.” His insides writhed with a hot feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to him. He hadn’t felt it often, and didn’t like to acknowledge when he felt it: it was shame. You occupied his every waking thought, how could he not have noticed?

“I don’t blame you,” Hob continued quickly as he turned off the stove and moved the pot off the burner. “I know a lot of human things aren’t exactly… at the forefront of your mind, but…” he sighed. “I think they may have an eating disorder.” A tense silence filled your apartment.

“An… eating disorder?” Dream repeated slowly. Hob nodded.

“An unhealthy relationship with food, destructive eating habits, that can lead to other problems, or be caused by other issues, other things happening in their life.” Morpheus’ frown grew deeper, the writhing shame suffused with bone deep concern. How could he not have noticed the neglectful harm you were doing to yourself?

“Thank you for telling me,” he murmured darkly. Hob could tell he was angry, but not at you. He knew Morpheus was angry at himself for not noticing, not knowing. For not taking care of you.

You emerged from the bathroom a moment later, profusely thanking Hob for watching the pasta. Dream watched you carefully- now he saw what Hob meant, and wondered how in the infinite realms he could have missed it. He saw the tremors in your hands, the paleness under your skin, the bags under your eyes, your slightly heavy breathing. Hob was right, you looked like you were about to keel over.

You could feel the tension rolling off Morpheus as you placed the food on the table, could feel his stare on your back, could feel the intensity of his frown. You could tell he was pissed, but had no idea what had set him off. Anxiety gnawed at your insides.

All through the meal, Morpheus’ responses were clipped and ground out, but his hand on your thigh was as gentle as it had always been. It didn’t escape your notice that he gave your leg an encouraging squeeze every time you took a bite, no matter how small.

It began to dawn on you what may have happened while you were in the bathroom trying not to pass out.

The rest of the visit was calm and enjoyable, but you could still feel the tension coming off Morpheus in waves. When Hob left, he murmured to the Endless, “Be gentle with them, they know you care and they’ll tell you in their own time.” Morpheus nodded and bid him farewell.

After he had seen Hob out, Dream turned to you. You were seated on the couch, fiddling with your fingers, curled in on yourself as if expecting a harsh scolding. Morpheus let out a breath through his nose. He hated how fragile you seemed, how small. Now was not the time to ask you about what Hob had said. He feared one wrong word would completely shatter you beyond repair.

As you went through your bedtime routine, Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist. “There is something I must see to in the Dreaming,” he choked softly, the words landing on the sensitive skin behind your ear. “I will find you when you arrive.” You gave him a quick smile and nodded as you rubbed moisturizer into your cheeks.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Just need to brush my teeth.” Dream pressed a lingering kiss to the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “I love you,” he breathed into the ridges of your spine, fluttering the little hairs there. A whirl of sand at your back and he was gone.

~~

Back in the Dreaming, Morpheus prowled through the halls to the library, a determined frown creasing his face. “Lucienne!” he half bellowed, the rumbling echo of his voice bouncing of the ceiling. The librarian jolted out of her seat and faced her lord with her hands behind her back.

“Yes my lord?” she asked anxiously, wondering what could have possibly gotten him worked into such a state.

“I need to do some research, on…” he swallowed hard. “On eating disorders. In humans.”

Lucienne blinked in confusion. “Eating disorders, my lord?”

“Yes,” Dream grit out. “Whatever you can find.” Lucienne nodded and pushed her glasses further up her nose.

“Of course my lord. I’ll bring them to your study.”

“Thank you. I will be with Y/N this evening.” He gave her a nod and swept out of the library. Lucienne frowned as he left, putting the pieces together. She could only hope you were alright.

~~

Morpheus spent all his solitary free time with his nose buried in a book- reading about various eating disorders, how to support loved ones dealing with them. There was a sort of unspoken understanding between the two of you, but one filled with tension that would one day snap. You knew it was a matter of time before he approached you and began asking questions, and you dreaded the day.

It came sooner than you anticipated. The two of you were in one of the palace’s many sitting rooms, reading in arm chairs in front of the fireplace. Morpheus softly closed his book. “Darling,” he asked gently, “Why did you not tell me about your eating disorder?”

You froze, a deer in headlights. Morpheus was never one to mince words, but his question caught you off guard. You closed your book and chewed your bottom lip, trying to piece together an answer. “I am not upset with you my love,” he assured you, reaching over to take your hand, “I am concerned for your welfare.”

Your hand was shaking in his grasp, your eyes watery with unshed tears. Unformed words were stuck in a massive lump in your throat. How could you possibly explain the tangled web of thoughts, fears, and insecurities that had ultimately led to your self-imposed torture?

“Hob brought it to my attention,” he continued carefully, leaving space for you to chime in if you so wished. “I was unsure of what he meant, at first. Lucienne directed me to information in the library, so that I may learn what ails you.” He rose from his chair and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. “My darling, you need not explain. I only ask that you tell me how I may be of support to you in overcoming this.” A pause. He swallowed hard, eyes silver and swimming.

“I understand these things can have roots in low self-regard. My love- I will worship your body with love and care until you know and believe, as I do, that you are beautiful in every way, and then continue to do so. I do not wish to see you endure such needless and undeserved suffering.” He lowered his head to press a desperate kiss to your knuckles, and you could have sworn you felt a single tear scorch the skin.

“I am not angry or ashamed,” he assured you again, speaking the words into your hands for you to hold onto forever. “Not at you. Only at myself for not noticing your pain and struggles sooner, for letting you suffer alone and in silence. It seems… I still have much to learn about humans.”

Despite it all, you chuckled, sniffing back your tears. Who’d have thought you’d see Dream of the Endless admit on bended knee that he didn’t know everything. The small sound of mirth took him by surprise; surely nothing about this was laughable.

You slid out of your chair and into Dream’s lap, the warmth of the fireplace suffusing your face and making Dream’s silhouette against the flames appear even darker and more enchanting. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you finally admitted softly. “I… I was afraid you would see it as just one more human weakness, one more reason why we- I- wasn’t worth your time. I… didn’t want you to think I was weak, or finally agree with the words in my head that’re always saying I’ll never be enough for you-“

Morpheus stopped your words the best way he knew: by kissing you. Unyielding but gentle hands held your face as he captured your lips, leaning you back into the chair. “You need not say any more, my heart,” he growled softly against your lips. His words vibrated with power and promise, an oath he had no intention of breaking before the stars burned out. “Whatever aid you need, you shall have.” One kiss. “You need not endure this alone any longer. I will be by your side.” Another kiss, more lingering. “Always.”

[asimplearchivist]

𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓬 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓷

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐗𝐕

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ khonshu forgot when he last hadn't felt pain. you make it easier to bear. pairing(s) ☽ khonshu/reader | promises kept!verse word count ☾ 1.8k a/n ☽ ⤏ my eighth entry for the moon knight bingo hosted by @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch over at @moonknight-events. I will eventually crosspost this to the main fic for promises kept on ao3 when it will best fit the chronological progression of the chapters. ⤏ got a little feelsy with this one. khonshu being so stubborn makes promises kept a glacial slow burn, but sometimes I just want to write him soft. I caved here. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS ENTRY ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT ENTRY [TBA] ☽

Some days were harder than others.

Khonshu had long since grown accustomed to his present state—malnourished, most definitely, and somewhat inhibited by old wounds on top of it—but the length of time under which he’d had no choice but to suffer did not make the affair any easier with which to deal. The constant nagging ache deep in the core of his wellspring—what he could only suspect was the closest equivalent to hunger in mortals, as he didn’t quite experience the same sensations—was an ignorable, background sensation at this point. Any bit of a boon he was granted by his few remaining followers soothed the worst of that acute, piercing emptiness, but given the fact that his avatars required continual support via the maintenance of the magical integrity of his ceremonial armor, oftentimes the energy would instead be passed right along to them instead of being kept for himself.

Such was the explanation behind Khonshu’s ghastly appearance—how could he sustain his physical manifestations when the continuation of his duties sapped what little energy he had from his own shallow wellspring to start with?

He never spent very much time taking in his own visage, whether it be in reflections provided by glass or by water. Even still, however—after over two thousand years of being trapped in the unrelentingly vicious reality of scrounging around for any scraps of divine energy he could come across for the sake of alleviating the hollowness resounding within himself—he would catch himself expecting to see glimpses of his old silhouette in his periphery, but was always met with the skeletal remains of the glory long ripped from him by his fellow deities.

He tried not to dwell on it too much, and it usually never came up naturally—most of his avatars through time assumed, given their ignorance towards the culture from which he’d originated and had nurtured, that it was how he had always appeared. Languishing in the negative feelings and memories that particular line of thought always drudged back to the surface only debilitated him. Righteous anger was easier to deal with than the repressed wounds still weeping from betrayal and despair. Those feelings never went away, really, given that his ‘hunger’ was a near-constant reminder of that single life-altering event over two millennia prior, but…most of the time he was able to shove them to the back of his mind.

You certainly helped him to do so.

An inexplicable balm to his soul, Khonshu found relief and refuge in the unshakeable lee you formed against the rest of the mortal world entombing him. Your steadfast dedication and devotion fed him, little by little, just enough to ease the ache. Perhaps it was irrational to rely upon that mutual symbiosis, a feedback loop doomed to fail eventually, since he was forced to channel that energy right back into the armor to keep you from harm, but he’d be damned with assurity if he was forced to forfeit you now.

You, mercifully, didn’t comment upon the…unfettered touchiness…that he displayed when the weariness that always followed a night out executing his justice superceded his finer mental factulties.

Your bed was much too small to fit the both of you comfortably, but you’d insisted that it would work if you sat up against the headboard and he pulled his legs up onto the mattress. Your fingers were light against the sweep of his shoulder, tracing the stark line of wiry muscle that conjoined at the scapulae. You’d already explored much of his back this way, reading the topography of him with your palm. Your other hand rested upon the curve of his head, thumb rubbing small circles that metronomed your steady, slow breaths and your occasional quiet humming.

He should have felt foolish, contorted not unlike a child with his head resting on your lap. Throughout the lengthy span of his life, he’d never stooped so low to demean himself in such a manner. The rest of the Ennead would make him the laughing stock of all pantheons if they knew of his particular…weakness for you. Although the Grecians often intermingled with man, the Ennead had long since forbidden it…but he couldn’t help but wonder. If it was so wrong, why did it make him feel the way that it did?

Even still, it would not be a good thing for them to discover. He didn’t fear himself much anymore, but if anything ever happened to you or Badru…

“You okay?” you asked softly, smoothing your hand up between his shoulders to cup the nape of his neck, rousing him from the light, dozing trance into which you’d unwittingly induced him. “You went all stiff on me.”

Khonshu grumbled. I am fine.

You let out a noncommital, if skeptical, sound and shifted a little to press the heels of both your hands into the meat of his shoulders. He winced as you dug in, working some of the tension free from his physical form. “Just got you relaxed and then you went and started overthinking again,” you tutted. “What goes on in that big noggin of yours, I wonder?”

Nothing good, he mumbled.

“I already knew that much,” you huffed. You found a particularly sore place below his scapula and his fingers knotted into the material of your t-shirt tighter as he smothered a grunt. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

You couldn’t fathom the heaviness of all that weighs on my mind, he pointed out sourly.

“Mmhmm.” You leaned forward and reached down to press at the base of his spine. His hiss was muffled by your thigh. “And you fuss at me for not keeping the armor as long as I need it,” you sighed. “Why don’t you use your abilities on yourself, too?”

Because he would bear it if it meant harm wouldn’t befall you. Because he would starve himself until he withered to dust if you had another chance to retain the breath in your lungs. Because you could bleed him dry and he would give you the knife with which to tap the celestiality that coursed through his arteries.

Heliopolitan maladies differ from that of humanity’s, he said instead.

“That seems a little counterintuitive,” you remarked, dragging up his sides to rid his ribs of their tension.

I require a greater expenditure of energy due to the nature of my body being primarily incorporeal and thus sustained only on my magic. It is much easier to heal tangible tissue. Khonshu tilted his head to peer up at your face, creased with determination and focused on the length of his back sprawling away from you. The material of your duvet was soft and warm against the bare skin of his torso, a balm against the perpetual chill that clung to his bones. The natural, thriving heat that emanated from your body certainly helped. What I consume is sufficient.

You frowned, eyes traveling over the gaunt press of his skeleton against his ashen, tawny flesh, barely hidden by the leanness of what muscle he’d retained in this form. “Somehow I doubt that.”

It was enough to sustain him and little else, but you didn’t need to know that.

You are fretting over nothing. Although that is nothing new, he jibed, hoping to redirect you.

He could sense your dubiety, but you thankfully dropped the subject. “...Do you sleep?”

Rarely. Allowing himself to slip into dormancy in his present state for any considerable length of time was a dangerous game he only dared to play when his wellspring was at its lowest tolerable level. He had also always preferred to remain vigilant in order to watch over the earth for any outstanding threats that may crop up on the misfortune-prone planet. Now that he had you and Ru under his protection, he especially resisted the urge that tugged at him at his weakest points. But I am capable of it, if that is what you mean.

“I had wondered. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your guard down.”

There were reasons for that, too, ones that he’d prefer that you never learned.

I must never set down my creed for even a moment, he said, else the world fall to shambles in my absence.

“That’s called catastrophizing, in my realm of expertise,” you pointed out gently, forfeiting your inspection of his throbbing (but less achey) back and instead scratching your fingernails feather-light over his scalp. Frissons broke out over his skin and skittered down the length of his spine. “Thinking about worst case scenarios doesn’t give you any more control over what could or will happen. Plus, I think we’ve got a sufficient number of guardians all over the world to help give you a break.”

You are aware that those merchandised puppets are not even aware of the realm in which I dwell and deal, aren’t you?

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard stories about sorcerers or something, but that’s besides the point. You need to let yourself rest occasionally. I don’t even want to imagine what several thousands of years’ worth of burnout looks like.”

You were looking directly at it, frankly. Khonshu readjusted his arms to wrap around your back, hands overlapping your waist as he buried his face into the crease of your thighs once more. I am resting.

You went silent at that, movements stilling for a long moment. Then you shifted, hunched over him, and placed a chaste, lingering kiss on the crown of his head. “Well, then I’ll leave you alone.” You returned to your position against the headboard, pillows cushioning your back, and resumed your soothing touches along his scalp, neck, and shoulders. “...If you wanted to sleep, I can stay up for you for a while. If the world starts ending, I’ll be sure to wake you up.”

It was far more tempting an offer than Khonshu could resist, given your attentiveness had coaxed that old exhaustion to the surface like the tide. He wondered if you possessed any supernatural abilities of your own, or if it was because that was the same tone his mother had always used to convince him to sleep when he was young. You wouldn’t know if there was a disturbance in the astral plane if it struck you by the back of your head, he murmured, sagging into you steadily.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you returned quietly, thumb tracing the impression of a scar along his temple. “Just let me take care of you, Khonshu.”

He was trying his best, truly. It was certainly difficult to protest such a precious gift offered with no malicious intents underlying its tender promises.

[kanerallels]

Since it's Free Day of Spring Fling with @monthly-challenge, I decided to update the Steve Miller Au (which will hopefully be updated a little more regularly in the future)! Hope you guys like the next chapter-- it's short but feelsy, and I had a lot of fun with it. First lines under the cut!

Taglist: @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @seleneisrising @cassie-fanfics (DM me or comment if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!)

It wasn’t normal for the Ghost to be quiet— and even now, it wasn’t completely silent. Ezra could hear someone— probably Kanan— moving around in the kitchen, and low voices sounding here and there. It sounded like he was getting ready to make dinner, which meant it wouldn’t be long before the sounds of music would start up. Idly, he wondered what Kanan would play this time.

They were on their way home from another mission, which didn’t usually make things so quiet. But this one was different— at least, it was for Ezra.

This time, he’d found out what truly happened to his parents.

He’d never really expected them to be alive. The odds for people in their chosen profession— namely, rebels— weren’t really that great, especially ones that were imprisoned by the Empire.

But when he’d had that dream… Ezra had hoped. He’d hoped that maybe, after the prison breakout, he’d find them again. And they’d hug him and apologize for leaving him and he’d say it was okay, that he took care of himself, and Kanan looked after him, too.And they’d be proud of me, he thought, swiping at his face and swallowing hard. I hope they were proud of me.

[rosetyler42]

Ericka Pregnancy Dump Part 3!

1.Had the idea of Ericka reassuring Drac for a while, and I've been playing with the idea that, while Ericka is pregnant, Drac sometimes likes to stick around her when he can to make sure she's doing alright. Sometimes that includes him resting on her shoulder in bat form. Ericka, of course, doesn't really mind him being around, but she's still trying to keep him from fussing over her too much. After all, he worries enough as it is.

2. Speaking of Bat!Drac on Ericka's shoulder, I was in a sleepy cuddles mood again!

((Bonus: I hid some fun surprises in the registry book. XD))

3. With the 20th week just past, I thought I'd do Drac finding out that one of the twins is a boy which means he's finally having a son. (He loves that he's having another daughter too. I just thought I'd give the guy his moment since, judging by HT2, he did want a boy at some point.) Ericka's amused by his reaction and Mavis...well, after seeing her father dance in drag around the room after finding out about Dennis, she's not surprised.

Like Mavis, Ericka personally doesn't care what she gets. She's just happy her and Drac's monster-human legacy is actually happening. Whatever combination they come in. Mostly, they found out because these two are both planners who if they knew you COUKD find out before definitely would and plus... well, we've seen how Drac is when it comes to surprises and "Wait and see" situations. XD But beyond names and maybe clothes ("Even that's a matter of preference"), having one he didn't get to have last time etc. Ericka doesn't see why gender matters all that much. Van Helsing apparently didn't seem to care much what gender Ericka was, as long as she could do what was expected of her. Plus, she's also a martial artist. Which, in fighting, gender doesn't make as much of a difference as you'd think, and as a matter of fact female warriors are respected due to their ferocity (coming at it from a mental perspective of being an underdog.) I'm sure being Pan helps too. Her answer to "Do you want a boy or a girl?" Would most likely be "...I want babies." Either that, or just "Yes." XD

4. Wanted to draw some pregnancy stuff with Ericka and Mavis bonding (since Mavis has had a kid of her own already and they both became moms without having a mom themselves.) But I ended up making things feelsy. As much as they are two sides of the same coin, Ericka and Mavis came from very different worlds. And I kinda liked the idea that Mavis, being the more emotional and much less traumatized one of the two, could bring a nice outsider perspective, pointing out some of the more messed up things about Ericka's upbringing that she herself tends to be "This is fine. :)" about. Similar to how Ericka can be the practical brutally honest outsider perspective for Mavis. Plus, the idea of her getting upset on behalf of the stepmom she once tried to crush is both sweet and funny. XD

5.Some pregnant Drericka fluff inspired by some partner in love with pregnant belly prompts I found a while back involving the partner kissing the belly bump and tickling the other person. X3 Which is even sweeter with how touchstarved Ericka is and how strict her childhood was/how she was expected to act. Another one of those "bringing out each other's playful sides" things.

6/7. Was in a pregnant!Ericka mood yesterday morning. Ended up working on these longer than was intended but they turned out great. I've had the idea of Ericka discovering the "belly press-baby kick" game for a while. And of course loving/protective and Sleepy mama are always fun to do.

8. Dracula comforting an exhausted, achey, and very dramatic pregnant!Ericka as she flops onto his legs/lap.

Been meaning to do some Drericka fluff, and I had the "I'm going to be as big as the Legacy by the time they get here" joke for a while. Don't worry, as much as the guys joke, she's not going to get THAT big. They're just messing with her and Ericka's just being her usual dramatic self. As she would say "Look, hon, I can't help how I am. Being Dramatic is LITERALLY in my code. Besides, we're pretty much finding almost every possible way to void the human body warranty with these cute lil imps. And with almost ZERO idea what ANY of us are doing, I might add. I have EARNED my right to be dramatic."

9. Was in the mood for some Mama Ericka fluff. Plus, I haven't drawn Eve much lately. I like the idea of Eve being one of those cats who like cuddling up to their owner's pregnant belly/rubbing it with their paws and purring.

10. Some sleepy pregnancy fluff. While she IS willing to change position, Ericka's not about to give up her favorite pillow (Drac) just because she's having twins. She sleeps better hugging him and resting on his chest or shoulders where she can feel the rise and fall of his breathing anyway - the heartbeat is optional. (Plus, with her body temp higher than normal, the difference in body temp probabky feels REALLY good right now.)

@gothicthundra @ebevkisk @neo-storm @that-obsessed-gay-girl @sine-qua-noon @chica-chuu @animatedpixie @erickadracula @ericka-van-helsing @erickaanddraculasblog @ericka4ever @elenadracula @drericka @drericka-prompts @drericka-is-lyfe-blog @drerickastan @thenerdynightprincess13 @thesecreatoroftrans @f-mhoteltransylvaniacomicseries @kittyball23 @lovelylivelyv

[blackjackkent]

Good news, everyone! There are TWO Spectators in the House of Hope dungeon, not just one.

No sign of Raphael yet but probably only a matter of time.

First order of business is to get Hope out of her chains.

The chains are anchored on giant crystals on each side of the arena, which possibly we could also destroy, but the hammer comes with a unique attack, "Unshackling Strike", which says "Smite the magical bonds keeping a a creature restrained, paralyzed, or stunned, freeing it." So we just need to get into melee with Hope and smack her with it.

I loaded Jaheira up with the hammer since she's the one of us least dependent on weapon attacks; unfortunately she's also the slowest of us so it took two turns during which I had everyone else start clearing the room.

The spectators, as usual, are scary as fuck and have 3 billion attacks; the most concerning bit was that one of them managed to land a paralyzing ray on Jaheira, which puts her out of commission temporarily. Unclear if this was deliberate because she had the hammer or just unlucky.

However! Hector has a freedom of movement potion, and we have Magic Pockets(tm) meaning Minsc could throw it on Jaheira before her turn. TEAMWORK! STRATEGY! I'm SO GOOD at this VIDEO GAME!

(Not really, but I try. XD Throwing the potion apparently doesn't work if you're ALREADY paralyzed, which is fucked up. >:( )

I think their target must not have been random, because they KEPT doing this to Jaheira, forcing us to kill them before we could cut Hope free. A surprisingly scary bit of this ended up being maneuvering everyone so they wouldn't get yeeted into the abyss by the knockback on the imps' eldritch blasts. (I did have to do a reload for this because Karlach got knocked off; I considered a feelsy drabble about it but it didn't really feel like it served any greater character point beyond "oh, whoops, shouldn't have stood there." XD )

The reload went much better; I was able to get Jaheira over to Hope and hit her, at which point absolutely nothing happened. >:( So I guess we were supposed to go for the crystals after all.

At this point I just got annoyed and beat everything up before trying to continue. XD This had the added benefit of letting us short rest and heal up before actually cutting Hope free.

Strike one.

Strike two. And she's out!

"FREE! I never thought I would be, believed I could be, hoped I might be. HEADS WILL ROLL!" she crows, waving her arms around. Then her face falls sharply and along with it, her voice.

"But we must address the hollyphant in the room. I can see how you avoid looking at me. I must be so terribly mutilated after all these decades of torture. Don't hold back. Tell me how bad it is."

Her head bows, her shoulders hunch.

Hector looks at her with some bemusement. "You look perfectly normal," he says, because she does - really more normal than one would expect under the circumstances.

She smiles weakly. "We both know that's not true, but thank you for being so kind."

He blinks. "No, really... you look fine."

The smile strengthens, but turns all the sadder for it. "You truly are the kindest fool I've ever met..." she murmurs. A pause, and then she turns away sharply. "We'll carve our way to the entrance hall and chop Raphael into messes! That's the hopeful version of course. The likely version is that WE ARE THE MESSES AND HE IS THE CHOPPER! ONWARD!"

-----

Hector and the others watch her leap back to the platform where they came in, and all of them look more than a little troubled.

"What's she talking about, Hec?" Karlach asks in a low voice. "She looks fine."

"I don't know," Hector answers grimly. "I'm more than a little concerned that perhaps she doesn't at all. It wouldn't be the first thing we encountered here disguised under a glamour."

The deep red of her face pales slightly. "Oh. Oh gods..."

"I hope I'm wrong. Gods, I hope I'm wrong."

[13eyond13]

What are your top 5 fav manga or anime? Why you love them?

omg see I'm kinda bad to ask for this one because I didn't get into anime or manga until my late teens when I watched Death Note (due to no regular TV and very strict rules around what I was allowed to read/watch growing up). I'm also really picky about it, and usually don't finish the series if they don't grab me pretty immediately or if I lose interest in them! So I'm gonna have to include ones I haven't fully finished just to round out this list, but:

Death Note - obviously! And I'm forever yelling at everybody to read the manga, because though I also was first introduced to it via the anime and think there are TONS of things to love about the anime it just has to be experienced in its original format to get the most out of it writing/art-wise, imo

Beastars - ngl I thought this series seemed really cringe when I just watched the first episode of the anime, like Zootopia meets Twilight, and the cheap-looking cgi animation kinda turned me off of it too. But once I switched over to the manga instead I was really charmed by the art style and by how clearly years of love and thought had been poured into this world and the characters by the mangaka, and how strange and dark and complicated the social dynamics of it all were. Finished the whole manga a couple years back, definitely recommend, particularly for the later parts where it moves past just being a high school drama/romance kinda thing

Yuri! on Ice - maybe the only other anime I ever fully finished watching, now that I think of it? Not perfect, but extremely cute and charming, and I loved Yuri as a character a lot

One Punch Man - I didn't watch past the first season, but this show made me lol constantly, and I loved Saitama so much (he has a lil bit of L energy at times). It also got surprisingly feelsy at times, like with Mumen Rider's part!

Mob Psycho 100 - another one I fell off watching whilst waiting for season 2, but I think it's so good and has extremely likable characters and a fun little world to explore (I am just THE LAZIEST about watching shows, so me stopping watching it doesn't mean anything much). It's a bit sweeter and also angstier than OPM, but for some reason I have fonder memories of watching OPM, so that's why it's ranked below it here

Some Bonus Ones I Like but Haven't Finished Enough of Yet to Feel Comfortable Ranking:

Naoki Urasawa's Monster - Very good! Very grim. Very realistic and tense. I am reading the manga rather than watching the anime, and I think it's definitely one I'd recommend if you really like the heavy themes and moral conundrums and crime thriller genre and whatnot that DN incorporates (though it's much less goofy than DN, which is maybe why I have a harder time finishing it... my appetite for goofy/depressing media is tremendous, but my appetite for solemn/depressing media just isn't very big)

Neon Genesis Evangelion - I watched about 1/3 of the anime and read the first 3 volumes of the manga! Really enjoying the manga, but have to wait to make more money before I can pay to read the rest hahaha. Idk how to explain that it kind of gives me David Lynch vibes?? Similarly weirdly dreamy and dark feelings to it. I love Shinji so much too. Idk it's definitely not a feel-good time, but I think it will be one of my top 5 faves after I finally get through the whole thing

[ask-ethari-anything]

Are there times when Runaan acts childish? Aside from the incident where both Runaan and 8-year-old Rayla both walked off in opposite directions and slammed the doors on each other…

Hm. From my years with Runaan and Rayla in my house, I think I've moved beyond calling outbursts of emotion "childish". They're just feelings! And everyone has them. Sometimes it's harder to keep it inside, and sometimes we just don't want to mask it, or we feel safe enough to be seen with our actual feelings.

I guess what I'm saying is, Runaan's feelings are as valid as Rayla's. And he should feel comfortable enough expressing them in his own house if nowhere else. I know I do, and Runaan accepts me this way.

If I may defend him further, he's usually not quite so feelsy, especially not in a loud way. That clash with Rayla was a bad day for him, and it threw him off for a while. But he'd gotten scared by his own instincts and then accused of being heartless by the one person he'd most wanted to protect. These are not usual factors in my husband's day!

Sometimes life piles up on you like that, though. Runaan isn't immune to getting overwhelmed, but by now he's had a lot of practice at managing the intensity of his feelings. He does his best, and when he needs to let things out, I'm here for him. As always!

[auniverseforgotten]

12 & 21 for the ask game

AAAA tY FOR ASKING

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

Ooooo I'm torn on this one honestly? I have a lot of AUs in my head not down on paper, some that are just. So far from the original source material that they're practically their own media just with borrowed faces oops XD

But I guess right now it's probably the fate AU where magic is a thing but Most of the characters are just Normal, with the Main fic being a teachers/teaching AU because -slaps head- you can fit so much salt about academia in this bad boy. I started it like...yesterday with the usual brainrot focused on Salieri and my brain has already veered completely into making a oneshot in the same universe focusing on another character's encounter with a supernatural cult leader SO IT'S REALLY GOING. I do also enjoy my Alter Ego Salieri AU.

21. Go onto your AO3. Which ship have you written for the most? The least? Does this correspond to who you consider your "favourite?"

Well, by virtue of works on AO3 it's a bit of a tossup. I have a multi-chapter fic in one fandom but a lot of the entries in it are platonic or can be read both ways so I don't really count it? So then it goes to next most written which is Morwen/Telemain from The Enchanted Forest Chronicles and Padme/Anakin from Star Wars, both with a grand total of two fics each. x'D

Padme/Anakin is a ship I'm neutral about, but since it was basically just a fix-it series that...is a lil abandoned right now, they're together because I haven't decided if they stay together or break it off to just be friends and coparents. Since rn they're both still in a lot of trauma and danger they're just clinging to each other. But I also don't know if I'll ever work on it again because there is SO MUCH LORE I have to remember and Star Wars fans are scary if you get lore wrong. XD But also for them to still be a ship in canon/fix-it they would need. SO MANY TALKS AND THERAPY.

Morwen/Telemain meanwhile is a ship I do hold fairly close to my heart; Telemain is a character I just love, he annoys the hell out of everyone with all his technical magical talk and I feel so seen by it because same, friend, same. I'd like to write more with them eventually, and I did start a multichapter back in 2020 that I'd like to get back to if my brain cooperates. I'd really like to explore Morwen and Telemain both diving into technical magical talk because I feel like she enjoys it too, just tends to remind him to speak a little more plainly when others who aren't as steeped in magical theory are around. And I also have a really feelsy WIP on the effects of the war on Morwen somewhere deep in my docs that also has some shippy vibes, but I've not worked on it for ages because it feels very self indulgent.

And if you look at my WIPs it's all Salieri/Mozart from Fate Grand Order, I have like. Nine in my docs right now, save me x'D and only one up on my AO3.

THANKS AGAIN FOR THE ASK FRIEND AAAAAA

EDIT: I FORGOT the ask game is: here for anyone who wants it themselves/wants to ask uwu

[smiletimeisrunningout]

so here's the deal for today and the entire weekend: I was finally given the damn book of high school law so I can prepare myself to tutor the kid who needs help. I'm also sleepy and I need to keep prearing math and English.

Which means I'll be doing a bit of studying and a bit of tumblr-ing, alternating like I always do to keep myself awake and alive.

This also means that as always you are VERY FREE to spam me so I have something to write, whether with memes or replies, and that I'll be slower in chats because to chat with someone you can't just write a few words and then disappear for fifteen minutes.

Priority is to shippy things and platonic but feelsy things, positive takes priority over negative too because it's harder to get into my muses' head to write unhappy things without some build up via watching sad videos, I'm too naturally happy to be here lol (But seriously, one of my muses is so AU it's an OC, the other is straight up OC, they are both females and they both have characteristics that are usually considered very unlikeable so having threads at all is AMAZING)

[nibelheimfirstclass]

Get to know the mun

What made you pick the current muse(s) you have ? Man I have been writing this butthole for years. But my muse for him comes and goes.

Is there anything you don't like to write ? I have a hard time writing the smut, but I'll do it. I don't do things like highly graphic or intensive in that area. I'm very fluffy. Much fluff. I like exploring depth of emotion and things of that nature!

Is there anything you really enjoy writing ? Anything that gives me the opportunity to delve deeper into a character so I can know them more and love them better. Like Rufus? Gimme those childhood heartbreaks. Tseng? What made you grow that perfect sheet of hair so long. Reno? Why such sarcasm defense? Simple things.

How do you come up with headcanons ? Through interactions with other characters, I tend to get these little bits and pieces figuring things out!

Do you write in silence or do you play music ? I like listening to music, and usually will watch something to help define the mood. Feelsy? Romcom. Action scene? Action movie. Mix of both? Something like Top Gun baby.

Do you plan your replies or wing them ? That all depends on whether or not we've plotted really, but I tend to lean more in the direction of chaos.

Do you enjoy shipping ? I am a feelsy boy. If we wind up making a connection that works (and I ship Cloud with chemistry mostly), then absolutely phenomenal. If not, lets sail off on a friend ship. (Badum TSSS)

What's your aliase/name ? C

Age ? Father time.

Birthday ? August!

Favorite color(s) ? Cerulean

Favorite song(s) ? Presently? Chronically Cautious

Last movie you watched ? Forrest Gump

Last show you watched ? 24 hours in A&E

Last song you listened to ? All Too Well (Taylors Version)

Favorite food ? I am a huge foodie, but right now my favorite dish is Chicken Vindaloo!

Favorite season ? Fall, because HALLOWEEN!

Do you have a Tumblr best friend ? Quite a few but this is an opportune time to call out @flowergirlgillionaire

Tagged by: no one, saw on the dash! Tagging: YOU ;D

[spiral-wizard]

My dad isn't a very feelsy guy. I usually describe his side of the family as "very loving and awkward about it". A lot of his love/support is conveyed nonverbally which i struggled to understand when i was younger. When i look back though, it's all there: the dresser he built for me when i was born, the coffee table he made for my first apartment. The hours he'd spend driving me places. The fishing trips he'd take me out on, even though it wasn't my thing. All the firm yet gentle pats on my shoulder. He always made sure i ate a square meal every day.

Honestly i think it all clicked for me when i went to his house for Christmas once a few years after i had changed my name. I looked at my stocking, the same one I'd had all my life that has my deadname embroidered on it. This time though, he had written my chosen name on a piece of paper and stapled it to the stocking over my deadname.

If that ain't the most awkward and loving expression of acceptance and support i have ever experienced, i don't know what is!! He'll never know how huge that was for me. I think if i told him he wouldn't know what to say.

[calliecat93]

So thoughts on the new episodes now that I'm back on the bandwagon:

Outfoxed: It was okay. Not my favorite, but it's fine. I LOVED seeing Koki being a nerd about foxes, it's adorable. Also, I think so far, her new VA is doing a fantastic job. It's different from Heather Bambrick, but similar enough to not be jarring and letting the VA do her own take. Also, Gourmand has a dog now? Ugh... can someone call the Humane Society, please? Anyways, pretty standard episode. Not great, but not awful either, and hey foxes!

Clever the Raven: This one was better. It felt like the characters got to do a bit more and thus have more fun character moments. It looks like they're doing more common/North American animals at least so far, which since this was in production during COVID, I guess that's all they could do. Which is fine, there's a lot they haven't done yet that I'm actually surprised they held back on. Also, all the villains (aside from Paisley) just being around for no real reason (not even doing anything evil, just there) and Clever annoying them was the best haha~! I actually learned a good bit about ravens that I didn't know, like their ability to mimic sounds. Overall this was a fun one~

Race To Goat Mountain: This one was pure fun! Since Paisley's intro she's honestly been super underutelized, only having I think two solo appearances and the rest with the others. Which is a bummer because it's meant she's lacked a lot of the personality that the other villains had, so this one REALLY helped make up for a lot. Seeing more interactions with the Bros and Paisley was sorely needed. But yeah, this was so fun~! I laughed so much. From Martin's issues with the Bighorn Sheep suit to the crew acting as commentators to Martin being a total drama queen when he's stuck (seriously, Martin is a riot in this one XD). It's a fun ride from start to finish~!

Owl Odyssey: So due to an accident, the Bros and the girls get rocketed to a faraway land, a LOOONG ways away from the Tortuga and without any gear/equipment/discs aside form the Miniturizer. Jimmy doesn't get included which is a bummer, but I guess someone needs to keep the Tortuga safe haha. This was another really fun one! From the girls annoying Martin to poor Jimmy getitng run out of the Tortuga to the girls thinking that the Bros have gone insane... y'know, more than usual. God there's SO may funny moments XD. I won't spoil too much, but there's also a bit of bro feels and that is an easy way to make a good episode a top-tier one!Not to mention all the owls! They've done some specific ones before, like snowy owls and desert owls, but this one is more broad with a whole variety in different continents. This was a really fun odyssey, loved it~!

So I'd say that Owl Odyssey is the best one for being hilarious, adventurous, interesting, and even a little feelsy while still having a good creature lesson. Then Race to Goat Mountain, then Clever the Raven, and Outfoxed at the bottom since I thought it was the most boring unfortunately. But hey it still did its job of teaching the kids, all four of them did. Which if we have more episodes like the last two in store, this is gonna be a fun season~!