#giant spiders optional

[the-raven-and-the-tower]

ROOK: Lucanis is in here somewhere, right? He's... what? Where they kept his blood?

SPITE: Yes! Go there! But. The locks. Everywhere! I can't touch them!

ROOK (sarcastically): How do I get past the locks? Turn myself into a mouse? Fight a bunch of giant spiders?

SPITE (not amused): By getting past the guards. It's a prison!

ROOK: Right. What was I thinking?

[chronicillnesscollector]

I'm rating hogwarts legacy 7/10 because I can't pet cows, deer or frogs or any of the cool magical animals... The arachnophobia setting saved it though soooo you win some you lose some

[onenicebugperday]

I am somewhat happy that jumping spiders are becoming popular as pets and even people who normally don't like spiders seem to find them cute, but people have GOT to stop acting like they are miniature mammals who want love and affection and pets and want to hang out with you.

I have seen countless posts in jumper groups from people asking why their jumper tries to escape when they're holding it or seems skittish or threat poses at them. It's because you are a giant predator and they want to get away from you. They don't get any happy chemicals from handling like mammals would.

I'm starting to see this in millipede groups as well. "Why is my millipede secreting this liquid on me?" Because it does not want to be handled. It's stressful for the animal, and stress can kill them.

Not only does it stress them, but often taking them out of their enclosure is dangerous for them - I have seen a lot of posts from people whose spider escaped and was injured or was crushed in the door of the enclosure because they were taking it in and out frequently. Drops can also be harmful, especially for larger invertebrates like tarantulas and bigger millipedes.

In general, invertebrate pets are not going to be a good option if you want to handle something frequently. There are definitely some species and individuals who tolerate it more, and if you're an experienced keeper, you can learn the signs of a stressed animal and only handle ones that are chill about it. But the majority of the time, they should be left alone and observed only.

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐬

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → Fluff, jealousy (of a pillow), clingy Peter, playful banter, and excessive cuteness!

Summary → Peter spends his first night at your place, only to find himself jealous of your oversized cat pillow stealing all your cuddles.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains. It was Peter's first time sleeping over at your place. Though he'd swung through the city countless times, faced down criminals, and juggled the life of Spider-Man with his high school responsibilities, nothing had made him as nervous as tonight.

After a cozy dinner and a movie marathon, you'd both retreated to your room, chatting lazily as you got ready for bed. Now, the real challenge awaited him: sharing a bed with his girlfriend of two months for the first time.

Peter turned his head slightly, watching as you peacefully snuggled your oversized, ridiculously fluffy cat-shaped cuddle pillow. Your face was pressed against the plush fabric, your arms wrapped tightly around it, and your breathing had slowed into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Peter, on the other hand, was wide awake.

He shifted slightly on the bed, feeling the weight of the blanket against his chest. The bed was warm, the sheets were soft, and the scent of your shampoo lingered in the air. It was perfect. Except for one thing.

That stupid. Giant. Pillow.

Peter’s eyes darted to the pillow, which was far too long for its own good. It stretched nearly the length of the bed, practically barricading him from you. He sighed, sinking further into the mattress.

“Lucky pillow,” he mumbled under his breath, glaring at the inanimate object.

He turned onto his side, his face just inches away from the pillow. “You know, I don’t get it. What’s so special about you?” He whispered, his voice barely audible. “I mean, you’re soft, sure, but I’m soft too! And warm! And…” He groaned softly, running a hand through his curls. “God, I’m talking to a pillow.”

Peter glanced at you again. You were oblivious to his plight, blissfully cuddling the intruder. A soft pout formed on his lips as he debated his options. Should he wake you up? No, you looked so peaceful. Should he push the pillow away? No, that felt mean.

“Maybe if I just…” He reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing the edge of the pillow. He gave it a tentative tug, but you tightened your grip in response, mumbling something incoherent in your sleep.

Peter’s heart melted a little at the sound of your sleepy voice. “You’re not making this easy for me, you know,” he murmured, his tone laced with affection.

For a while, he lay there, trying to distract himself. He counted the little stars on your ceiling, listened to the faint hum of traffic outside, and even considered pulling out his phone to play a game. But the ache for your warmth persisted, gnawing at him.

Finally, with a soft huff, he rolled onto his back and muttered, “Okay, Parker. Time to man up.”

He turned back toward you, his cheeks burning as he summoned the courage to speak. “Y/N?” He whispered tentatively. When you didn’t stir, he tried again, a little louder this time. “Y/N?”

You let out a soft groan, your eyelids fluttering open. “Peter?” You mumbled groggily, your voice thick with sleep.

“Uh, hey,” he said, suddenly feeling shy under your sleepy gaze. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “Sorry to wake you, but, um… I need to talk to you about something important.”

Your brows furrowed slightly as you propped yourself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assured you quickly, waving a hand. “It’s just… I have a problem.”

You blinked, now more awake. “What kind of problem?”

Peter hesitated, glancing at the pillow between you. “It’s about… that.”

You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on the cat pillow. “You mean Mr. Whiskers?”

“Mr. Whiskers?” He repeated, his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh. “That’s its name?”

“Yes,” you said defensively, hugging the pillow closer. “What about him?”

Peter let out a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I’m jealous of a pillow.”

You stared at him, your sleepiness evaporating as a laugh bubbled up in your chest. “You’re… jealous? Of Mr. Whiskers?”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, sitting up slightly. “You’ve been cuddling him all night, and I’m just… here! All lonely and cold!”

“Lonely and cold?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “Peter, we’re sharing the same blanket.”

“It’s not the same!” He whined, pouting. “I want cuddles, Y/N. Real cuddles. With you. Not with some oversized stuffed cat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his adorable sulking. “You should’ve just said so, Pete.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up!” He protested, his cheeks turning pink. “But then you looked so cozy, and I started overthinking it, and—ugh, I sound ridiculous, don’t I?”

“A little,” you admitted, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it’s also kind of sweet.”

Peter groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed,” you said softly, leaning over to brush a curl away from his forehead. “You’re cute when you’re clingy.”

“Yeah, well, Mr. Whiskers doesn’t think so,” he muttered, glaring at the pillow.

You giggled, setting the pillow aside and sliding closer to him. “Better?”

Peter’s eyes lit up as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. “Much better,” he said, his voice warm and content.

“You could’ve just asked for cuddles, you know,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his shirt.

“I know,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I just… didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so tired lately, and I didn’t want to be annoying.”

“Peter,” you said, tilting your head to look up at him. “You could never be annoying. If you want cuddles, just ask, okay? I don’t mind. I like cuddling with you.”

A shy smile spread across his face as he tightened his arms around you. “Okay,” he whispered.

For a while, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, the warmth of your embrace lulling Peter into a state of pure bliss. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his heart swelling with affection.

“You’re really warm,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

“So are you,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest.

Peter chuckled, his fingers gently running through your hair. “I’m never letting Mr. Whiskers steal you from me again.”

“Good,” you said with a smile, your eyes already closing. “Because I like this way better.”

Peter’s heart fluttered at your words, and for the first time that night, he felt completely at ease. As your breathing slowed and you drifted back to sleep in his arms, he made a silent vow: no more cat pillows.

From now on, he’d be the one you cuddled. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

��∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

______________

Irritant and cute giggles.

That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.

But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.

Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.

Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.

Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…

“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.

“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.

Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.

He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.

You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.

You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.

“See you at home?” You ask.

Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.

“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.

The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.

Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.

…

Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).

On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.

It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.

However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.

He even started to worry something had happened.

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.

“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.

“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.

“You are.”

“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.

Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.

“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.

“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.

Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.

The scene was… interesting.

Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.

In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.

And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.

Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.

“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.

“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”

“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.

And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.

Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.

Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…

“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.

“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.

“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”

“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”

“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.

“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”

“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.

“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.

“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.

“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.

And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.

Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes

Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.

“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.

Maybe Miguel would take her word.

But first, he had to find you.

…

“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.

You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.

“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.

“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.

“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.

Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.

“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.

“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.

There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.

So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.

It’s impossible to not miss your body too.

Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.

Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.

Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.

Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.

Another big reason to love you.

He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.

A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.

“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.

Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.

Because he’s beyond in love with you.

…

As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.

“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….

“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.

“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”

“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “

“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.

“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”

“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.

But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.

But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.

“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.

“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.

“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”

“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.

“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.

It won’t be that bad.

____

Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.

My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.

You are singing between giggles and pauses.

Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.

And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.

You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.

One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?

“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.

“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.

“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.

“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.

“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”

“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.

“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.

“I’m looking at her…”

“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.

“See? I got her….” you say proudly.

Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?

“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.

“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”

He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.

You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.

Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.

All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.

And probably would not pay attention.

“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.

“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.

…

Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.

Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.

She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.

Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.

He never failed to flatter your food; never.

You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.

He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.

You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.

For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.

Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.

Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.

Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.

Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!

However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.

“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.

You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.

There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.

You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.

When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.

You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.

“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.

“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.

“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.

He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?

“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.

“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.

“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.

“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.

“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…

“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.

“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.

“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”

You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.

—

Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.

“You two had-“

“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.

“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.

“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.

“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.

Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.

“So, how was the date?”

“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.

“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.

“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.

“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.

“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.

“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.

“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.

“He’s right?”

“What?”

“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.

“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.

And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.

“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.

“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.

Impatient to feel them all across your body.

But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.

______________

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: A Carver's Guide to Monster Parts

Artsource

As long as I've been playing d&d my players have been wanting to salvage trophies or crafting components from slain foes and with Monsterhunter currently taking the internet by storm these requests have only increased. Knowing the core rules were never going to be of help I decided to take a look into the 3rd party space, and while plenty of people HAD created some very thought out systems they weren't quite what I was looking for, though the results were often too specific (only dealing with monsters in a specific book, useless for anything not listed) or too fiddly (requiring lookig up multiple tables and doing lots of math, potentially taking as long as the fight itself)

What I knew I needed was a fast and lightweight system that my party could opt into whenever they felled a great foe that wouldn't require anyone at the table to keep track of the individual value of various monsterbits. As such, I (quite appropriately) salvaged what I could of all the systems I read and supplemented them with my own ideas to get something I think works quite well:

After combat with a monster, the party may attempt to salvage valuable components from their prey by making a carving roll

The DC of the carve is set at 10+ (1/2 the creature's CR rounded down)

A medium creature can generally be carved once, plus an additional time per size category above medium. Multiple Small and smaller creatures may be required to make up a single carve. Multiple characters may carve the same creature at once.

Each carve (which includes preserving the part for transport) takes about an hour. Depending on the danger of the region this may provoke a random encounter as scavengers or wandering monsters are attracted by the scent of a fresh kill.

The roll used depends on the type of creature being carved and what the carver is looking to take. Dexterity (survival) is the go-to option, but arcana/alchemy might be used to salvage components form an aberration or elemental, while someone seeking to trap a ghost's essence might use religion.

Beating the DC by any multiple of 5 grants an additional monster bit per multiple (IE beat it by 10, get +2)

When carving, the character in question may choose one of the following options:

Carving for market: The monster bit is worth 50gp X the creature's CR. This may either be sold or used as raw materials for crafting. Generally noted as Monsterbits (GP VALUE), though some notable items ( such as giant spider silk, a unicorn's horn, troll's blood) can be listed individually as some traders/quest givers will pay extra for them.

Crafting for food: The characters gain provisions of a quality equal to the monster's rarity (Cr5-8 uncommon, CR 9-12 rare etc). Some monsters make for better eating than others.

Carving for trophy: Proof of a kill & boasting rights. Preserved to prevent spoilage but made almost useless for crafting. Trophies are generally worth less than market carves (10gp x the creature’s HD), but a collector may be willing to pay far more for them.

These rules may also be applied to looting groups of enemies, rifling through their pockets and packs for salvage and supplies.

A group twice as large as the party counts as a large creature, where as a group three times as large as the party counts as a huge creature.

Taking bits off fallen sapient creatures is generally thought of as "Freak Behaviour" by both authorities and lay people, and will likely get the party shunned or outlawed.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

King To The Rescue- Thranduil x Modern!Reader

Summary: Reader accidentally hurts themselves when they trip over and Thranduil comes to save them

Word count: 1, 167

Walking through the forest of the woodland realm filled you with both joy and sadness. Parts of the forest were still lush and green, filled with life and happiness, but unfortunately most parts were taken over by a great poison, leaving the once beautiful lands to be dark and dangerous.

You weren’t sure why you were brought to Middle Earth, both Thranduil and Gandalf had their theories, but both you and Thranduil believe it might have to do with the poison taking over the lands. To better understand it, you decided to walk among it. Thranduil had agreed to let you do so, as long as you didn’t go too far and wander into the spiders.

He had spent over an hour drawing up different maps and explaining where you can and can’t go. Even though you were not of this world and not as wise as the race of elves, Thranduil still was very protective of you, so protective in fact that this was the first time he had let you venture here alone. Every other time you had walked these woods, it had been with either Legolas, Tauriel or 2 or more guards.

You suppose the reason for Thranduils care was because you were chosen to help heal his lands, and he wanted to keep you safe. It would be stupid to think it was any other reason, although you did sometimes fancy it could be.

Perhaps Thranduil wanted to take care of you for more reasons then just to help him. You try to ignore those ideas though. An elvish king having feelings for human of a different world just isn’t how things work, though it’s hard to ignore that it might be true.

Hard to ignore the way he looks at you when he thinks you can’t see, the way you’re able to make him laugh, the way he shuts down anyone who would try to talk poorly about you, mostly it was hard to ignore his touches. The way his hands felt on your hips when you first started learning to ride a horse, and he’d help you on and off. How his eyes seem to linger when brushing a piece of hair out of your face, or even the way he seemed to always offer his hand to help you stand or walk along uneven ground, even when you didn’t need it.

These thoughts of fancy seemed to cloud your head so blindingly, that you didn’t notice the change in terrain, or that there was a giant root coming out of the ground. Before you had time to catch yourself, you felt the earth thud against your chest and a throbbing pain in your ankle.

Gently twisting your body around, you assessed the damage of your ankle. Looking down you see it’s already starting to swell, but despite that, you try to walk on it. There was no patrol out at the moment and you were sure no one would hear you if you did call for help.

With the assistance of the large tree, you begin to stand from the ground. As soon as you put pressure on your ankle however, you realise how bad of a decision that was. A loud yelp leaves you as you once again fall to the ground.

Hitting the ground with your fist in defeat, you decide calling out would be your only option, you could crawl but you’re pretty sure that would just lead to you getting more hurt.

Turning onto your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and smell the lushness of the forest before you. If you were going to call for help, it had to be a good call, and you couldn’t do that if you were hysterical and unfocused.

Opening your eyes again, your calmness helps to push the growing pain aside as you begin to call for help.

“Someone! Help me! I’ve hurt my ankle and I can’t move! Help me!” You shout to the canopy of large trees above you. You’re not sure who will hear, but just hope your message is clear and loud enough.

Closing your eyes and beginning to breathe once again, you prepare yourself to make another call for aid. Luckily, however, as you open your eyes once again, you see none other then the king himself, kneeling beside you with a look of deep worry on his face.

“What trouble have you gotten into now?” He smirks down at you, but his eyes are still filled with worry.

“I tripped over and I’ve hurt my ankle.” You explain, trying not to sound pathetic.

“Ah, so that was the terrible howling I heard. And here I thought the spiders were being hurt, well an elf can dream.” He jokes with you, trying to calm the situation.

“One could only hope. Now I can wait here while you get help to lift me ba-.” Before you could finish your sentence, you felt Thranduils strong hands under your body as he began to lift you from the ground. There’s that touch of his again.

Looking into his face, you expect to see frustration or anger, but you see nothing but care as he stares back at you.

“I’m sorry if I’m too heavy.” You blurt out, not knowing what to say in this moment.

Thranduils rarely seen sweet smile shines onto his face as he looks ahead of him, beginning to take you back to his castle.

“Humans are always so funny. Elves are a lot stronger then the race of men, you feel no heavier then lifting a kitten.” His smile grows as he looks down at you.

Looking into his eyes and feeling his strong arms and hands so sweetly touching you, those thoughts of fancy seem to return with a vengeance.

“Does that mean you’ll feed me milk and scratch behind my ear?” You joke, trying to push your romantic thoughts from your head.

The silly question made Thranduil laugh in a way you’d never seen, it’s like his usual brooding self was washed away with sunlight and star shine.

“Perhaps I might just do that. Let you curl up by the fire and give you a ball of yarn.” He smiles down at you, as you now approach the doors to his kingdom.

Such a joke and such a smile does nothing to calm the feelings that grow in your heart, but you suppose you’ll just have to live with it.

Little do you know however, the image of you cuddled up to Thranduil by his fire as he takes care of you, fill his heart with a similar feeling. He too tries to push them away as he places you on a medical bed and elves begin to help you.

Stepping out of the room he tries to shake his own fancy from his head. How could such a bright and sweet person love an old and bitter elf as himself?

[sachiko6243]

Make me your wife

Summary: Y/N and her sister got attacked by giant spiders. Luckily Thranduil and his men were near enough to come to their rescue. What Y/N didnt think would ever happen, would be the elven king falling for her sassy and sarcastic character...

Word count: 6606

Warnings: spider attack in the beginning, sass, smut in the end, Minors DNI, this contains adult content!

This was written on request for: @mitsurisu I hope you like it. Sorry for the long wait, but I had much to do at my work. 😅

I was riding through the forest of the Woodland realm with my sister Leonor. We had set of from Rivendell on the request of Legolas. We had met him after he had helped the dwarves to take back their mountain. He was a very nice fellow, flirtatious and easy going, to the point where my sister had poked me and made fun of me for maybe pursuing him as a potential partner. She had been married to her husband for the last 300 years and was still utterly convinced that I would be happy in a marriage as well.

Nothing I said was driving her from that path and I had given up convincing her otherwise, deciding that letting her talk and ignore it would be the best option. She was once again on a rampage on married life, while I rode besides her, letting my thoughts and gaze wander. A crack deeper in the woods made me listen up. I knew that in those woods there were living many giant spiders, so I silenced my sister. She wasn’t a fighter like I was and if we were in trouble I needed her to listen to me.

“Shut it, Leonor. I think I heard something!” I whispered, but she waved it off. “Oh, come on Y/N. You always see and hear danger everywhere.”

“Its my job. I am a soldier after all. Be quiet, there are many spiders in these woods. I need to figure out if we are in danger.” I growled, my hands already gripping my two swords.

“Relax. There is nothing out there. You know how thoroughly Legolas and the guards clear those woods. He has told us on many occasions.” She sighed, not taking the threat seriously.

Another crack made me draw my swords, telling my horse to speed up. Leonor was quick to follow me and we were now thundering through the forest. I really hoped that it was just the forest doing foresty things and not some giant spiders, but my hope was being denied.

With a loud thud, a dark green giant spider dropped right in front of us. Leonor was just quick enough to steer her horse around it, while I was cut of by the spiders body. My horse shrieked, nearly throwing me off, but I was just able to keep me on its back. “RUN!” I yelled at my sister, making myself ready to face the big monster.

“Y/N!” She screamed, drawing the attention of the beast to her. It got up high enough for me to ride under his stomach, grabbing the reigns of my sisters horse who seemed frozen in place.

Dragging her behind me, I rushed my horse through the woods, hoping that we would be faster than that spider. Leonor took a while to come out of her frozen state, but when she was able to steer her horse again, I gave her back the reigns, now drawing my bow, turning around on my horse to shoot at the giant spider. But it didn’t seem like my arrows really seemed to bother the creature that was chasing us. And to my dismay, I hear the clicking sounds of several more coming through the woods.

They started to catch up to us, our horses slowly but surely loosing speed. And then it happened. We got circled by two smaller spiders dropping in front of us. Our horses freaked again, this time throwing us off their backs and making a run, only to be killed by spiders stomping onto them. Immediately they started to drag them away, probably into their net. I reached for another arrow, realizing, that I had shot every single one of them, without taking down one single spider.

“Fuck.” I let out, throwing my bow to the ground and dragging my swords.

“What do you mean fuck?” Leonor asked and I just gritted out: “Fuck as in we are fucked. I am out of arrows.”

“You shot all of them?” She asked and I wanted to smack her: “No, I threw them away. Of course I did!”

“No need to be so snappy.” She lashed back and I just looked at her with a deadly glare. “Oh yes, we are just about to die and I should play happy fun time with you? Forgive me for feeling a little stressed.”

“Its not my fault, that it happened.” Leonore seemed hurt and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I never said it was. I am sorry for snapping at you. Its just… Ah forget it. Try to stay close to me, without getting in my way. If we are getting separated, I cant protect you and if you are in my way, I will probably hurt you. Just…” I tried to make it understandable for her. “…think of it as a dance.”

“A dance?” She asked and I could hear she was raising her brows. “Why would I think of this as a dance?” Shrugging my shoulders I swung my sword at the first spider stepping close: “I don’t know. You are the minstrel of us. I was just trying to make it logical for you.”

I didn’t hear what she answered, because my sword collided with the heavy foot of a spider, drawing an ugly screeching sound from it, as I cut through the hard material. Letting my second sword swing higher, I managed to stab it into the thicker part of the leg. Ripping out my first sword, I swung my body around and through the air, landing on top of the spider. I forced both my swords into its head, managing to down it. Jumping off, I faced the next one, but my fight seemed to have no end, as I saw that the ranks were quickly closed again.

A horn being blown and horses thundering through the woods made me catch a new wave of hope and I started to fight back harder, always making sure to cover my sister from any attacks. I heard yelling and arrows whirring through the air and I realized, that the spiders slowly but surely were thinned out. Facing another one, I was just quick enough to jump aside, as it launched for me. Rolling around, I found myself underneath its big body. Not hesitating a second, I stabbed my blades into its stomach drawing it along, as I ran to get out of there.

A mixture of spider blood, gushy intestines and a sort of dark slime covered me, as I stumbled out beneath the tumbling and falling creature. Catching my breath, I stood there for several seconds, trying to regain some strength and to get rid of the slippery mixture that covered me. When I was able to look back up, the rest of the spiders had either been slain or forced away, leaving us and the elves that came to our rescue behind. “Y/N! Leonor!” I heard Legolas yell, turning to look at him.

A sarcastic smile on my lips, I greeted him: “You seem to lack in your mission to clear the woods, my prince.” He gritted his teeth, hugging Leonor, but refraining to do the same to me: “You are as friendly as always, Y/N.” I shrugged, shoving my swords back into their sheaths. “What can I say. I was raised to be a sunshine.” But when I saw his father approaching us, I stopped talking, bowing to greet the king. “My king. I apologize for causing trouble in your lands.”

“No need to apologize. You were right. It seems as if my son isn’t particularly thorough with his task. I am the one in need to apologize as this has clearly endangered you and your…”

“Sister, my king.” I helped him out, still looking down on the ground.

“…your sister. Am I correct with the assumption you came to visit my kingdom?” He asked.

“Yes, my king. We came to visit your son, prince Legolas. He has invited us.” I answered stiffly, looking at Legolas for help. The blond elf just smiled at me and I dared to look at his father the first time. And what I saw knocked the breath out of my lungs. He was gorgeous to say the least.

Tall, strong, handsome. The similarities to Legolas unmistakable. And his blue eyes. Staring at me as if he was reading directly into my soul. I was totally caught of guard by his appearance, not realizing he was talking to me again: “I am sorry. What did you say, my king?” I barely remembered to address him by his title, but he didn’t seem to mind. Smiling at me, he repeated his words: “I was welcoming you to my kingdom. As it seems, something must have caught your attention, my Lady.”

“Y/N. Just Y/N, my king. I am no lady. Just a common soldier of Rivendell.” I corrected him, trying my best to hide my breathless voice. Thranduil looked behind me, the smile on his lips widening. “A very good one, as it seems. You took out two spiders on your own.”

“And I shot all my arrows without them having any effect.” I reduced his praise, not feeling comfortable with the king saying such high words about me. He clicked his tongue. “Ah, arrows barely have any effect on the spiders. Their shells are far to thick for them to penetrate deep enough.”

“I didn’t know, my king. The next time I will come prepared.” I said, bowing deeply again.

“The next time?” He asked with a smirk to his lips and I furrowed my brows: “Yes? Did I do something wrong, my king? If I have insulted you in any form, I apologize.” But Thranduil just grinned at me with a knowing look on his lips, before he turned around: “The next time you visit us, let me know beforehand, so that I can ensure your save journey. A lady like you must not face such beasts under my watch.”

“I can fend for myself!” I yelled after him, this time leaving out his title, as his assumption angered me. He looked over his shoulder, taking in my angry form for a moment, before he answered: “I know. But I would feel better if you were protected by my guards.” Then he turned around, looking at a light brown haired man: “Feren, ensure that Leonor and Lady Y/N have a horse to ride on and have a bath prepared for them.” The man bowed his head slightly. “Yes, my Lord.”

***

And that’s how I had met Thranduil. That was nearly 100 years ago. 87 to be exact. He had started to court me soon after that incident, sending letter over letter to Rivendell, to the point where even Lord Elrond heard of what was happening. In the beginning I didn’t think much of it, reading his letters as nothing more as friendly correspondence. Until one day he literally showed up in Rivendell, demanding to speak with Lord Elrond himself.

Later on, I was told, that Thranduil had demanded to know if I was forced to work too much, since I didn’t answer every single one of his letters. From then on, our letters turned into a frequent thing, until one day I asked Lord Rivendell to free me from my duties and to allow me to live in Mirkwood. Lord Elrond let me go with a warm and knowing smile, something I didn’t exactly know how to read back then.

But soon, Thranduil and my friendship turned into him making advances until I finally gave in to courting him. Thranduil had pulled every string he had, to get me to fall for him. He made sure that I was taken care off, that I had everything I ever wished for to the point where I literally had to fight him on lessening his extensive gifts, but there was nothing I could do to talk sense into that man.

And now here I was, sitting at the big banquet next to him. We had gotten married. Well technically we weren’t truly married yet, since for elves the marriage was only completed when the marriage was conceived. And to be honest, I couldn’t wait much longer. My friends and family had come to Mirkwood and wished me the very best. Even Lord Elrond had managed to fit in time to spare my marriage a visit, congratulating me.

I looked at my now husband, only to find him staring at me already. “You are so beautiful, my little starlight.” He whispered, reaching his hand for mine. I squeezed his hand, leaning in to his shoulder. “How long do we have to keep up this thing, until we can retreat?” I asked, the alcohol in my blood probably pushing me to speak this openly. Thranduil chuckled at my words: “So desperate already?” I smacked him on the chest. “Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

“At least I don’t show it so openly.” He teased me, kissing my hand softly. “Dance with me, meleth.”

Letting him pull me to my feet, he guided us to the dancefloor, pulling me close to his body and I could feel that he was longing for me the same way I did for him. His head sank down to my level as he whispered: “This one last dance should appease our guests. I think they already know what is about to happen, but it is much easier to vanish between dancing couples than from the high table.” I smirked at his words, leaning my head onto his chest. “Is that so, my king?”  I felt him shrug: “At least I suspect it would make things easier for Feren. He always seems to be so stressed.”

“That’s because you stress him, herven.” I answered and the way he stiffened at me calling him husband for the first time, made me smile. “Herven.” He repeated. “Say it again. It sounds so beautiful from your lips.”

“What? Herven?” I asked, putting a soft moan to my words. Thranduils breathing became rigid, as he clearly had trouble keeping the rhythm of the dance. He took a deep breath, before he simply ended the dance pulling me through the other couples. “You know what? Fuck it. I am done waiting.” Once we were far enough away from the others to hear or see us, he threw me over his shoulder, causing me to shriek out loud. “Thranduil!”

“Oh yes. That’s even better.” He grinned, carrying me through the halls and back to his chambers. “I am going to make sure that the only things that are leaving your mouth will be my name, my title and those sweet little moans or yours.”

***

Thranduil stopped in front of his door, looking at me with what I believed to be fear in his eyes. “Are you ready?” He asked me and I nodded: “Yes.” Taking his hand, I followed him inside. As soon as the door fell shut behind us, he pressed me against a wall, a sly smirk on his lips. “You have no idea, how much I waited to do this.” I didn’t react to his tease, just pulling him in by his collar, desperate to kiss him. His hands wandered to my waist, gripping the fabric of my dress.

I held onto him, still letting his hands wander over my body. “Are you sure, you want to do this?” He asked, his breath fanning down my neck, before he bit down on my sweet spot. Moaning at the sensation that rushed through my body, I tried my best to keep the conversation going: “Yes, I am. I haven’t been so sure about anything in my life, ever.”

“Good. Because I doubt, I would be able to endure the wait any longer.” His husked voice sent shivers down my spine and I had to hold on to his shoulders, to not faint. “You know what this perfume does to me, darling? The whole evening, I could not focus on anything else than you sweet smell. Do you even know, how hard I was all evening?” He picked me up, pressing me against the wall, looking at me with an angry hunger in his eyes. “I should not be commanded by a woman like that, especially not one that does it so easily like you do. It is endangering my reputation.”

“I think your reputation as the King is hardly attacked with you desiring your wife.” Trying my best to fight back against his administrations, I rolled back my head when his free hand opened the lacing of my dress, desperate to feel more of him. “What reputation, darling? Go on. Make your point.”

“The… fuck…” I cursed, earning a chuckle: “That’s very unladylike, darling. I should knock that word out of your brain.”

“You wouldn’t dare to do that. You love my dirty mouth.” I sassed back. He hummed at my words, just holding me tight to his body. “I do. And I want to make sure you are taken care off.” His words made me open my eyes again, leaning back to look at him.

He let me down slowly, still trying to hide his face from me, but I held his head, looking at him, when he let go of me: “No, please tell me. What are you afraid of?” I asked, stepping closer to him, but he just dodged backwards. Tilting my head, I followed him into the living area, effectively backing him into the sofa. When he sat down on it, I straddled his lap. “Are you afraid to be close to me?”

“No…” He breathed heavily. “Yes… I don’t know. I… I want to be close to you, but I don’t want you to feel forced. You know how it is… Wifely duties and all and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but at the same time I want to feel you, hold you, smell you, taste you. Everything. I am in no place to expect anything from you, so I refrain from giving in to those thoughts too much, because I don’t want to make it too obvious to you, that my needs are currently overruling my consciousness. And now that I am close and… and alone with you, I realize that its much harder than I have thought it would be... I want this to be special to you. I want to be the loving husband you deserve, to let you know that you are my most priced treasure… That I would do anything for you.”

I just looked at him: “Are you… are you rambling? The elven king and man of precise language is rambling and stuttering?”

“Yes.” Was all he said. “And you currently sitting on my lap, dressed like that, doesn’t help my case either.”

“What's stopping you?” Letting my voice drop lower, I leaned forward, rolling my hips shamelessly over his lap. He groaned out, gripping my tighter. “Y/N… You don’t have to do this. I can live with it, if you aren’t ready.”

“Do I look forced, meleth?” I whispered close to his ear, nibbling on it. “Show me what it feels like. Please, meleth. Touch me. Please… be my husband.”

Thranduil let his head fall back, his eyes were closed, as he was definitely on his last straw of mindfulness. “How much do I need to push you, until you give in?” I giggled at his neck, making my way up to his chin and then hovering over his lips. “Would it help, if I lose my wedding dress?”

“You sound like a prostitute…” He gritted out and I just grinned wider. “And? Is it working?”

“Yes. And I don’t know if I like that thought.”

“Which thought? Me as a prostitute, or that I am succeeding to win you over that easily?” I kept on teasing him. Leaning back, I opened up the strings of my dress, pulling it over my head.

He balled his fists at my waist, his eyes forcefully trained on my face. “Both. But I would never let you become a prostitute.”

“Scared to share me?” Still keeping up my teasing way, I just sat on top of him, waiting for him to react. “No.” He gritted out.

“What's it then? Afraid another man might do me better?” Wetting my fingers with my tongue, I let them slide between my legs, stabilizing myself with my free hand on his knee. And when my fingers found my clit, I hummed in pleasure, still watching his face intently. Not reacting to my administrations, he spoke in a very forced tone: “You are my wife. There is no other man. Ever.”

“Hmmm. I like that, meleth.” I sighed, feeling how I grew wetter, so I dipped one finger inside my core, only to then put it to my mouth to lick it clean. “I like it, when you get possessive and confrontive towards other men. The difference of how you treat them and how you treat me, makes me feel special.”

“Does it now?” He sassed and I sighed internally. I finally had him broken out of his restrictive shell. I had my husband back: “Always has.”

“You really want to do this?” He inquired further and I nodded. “Yes. Please. I think I am ready.” Taking one last breath, he gripped my thighs. “Hold on.” Without giving me much time to react, he got up, walking towards the bedroom. “If you want me to do this, I am going to do this properly.”

“I know. Everything else wouldn’t be like you.” I grinned, hiding my face in his neck. He sat me down slowly on the edge of the bed. Then he stepped back, taking off his clothes one piece after the other: “If you are already naked, I shall be too. I don’t want to make you feel insecure.” His words made me blush and I stuttered out a quiet “Thank you.”  

Thranduil came back to me sinking further to his knees. When he was eyelevel with my stomach, he softly kissed it, then down my thigh until he reached my knee. “Lean back and relax.” His voice was rough, his warm breath sending goosebumps over my inner thigh.

“I want to watch you. I need to see you.” I whispered, stroking through his hair. His jaw clenched at my words, but he didn’t say anything, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to it. “If you wish so.” His fingers ghosted over my skin, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. “I will take my time today. I want to take care of you as good as I can.” He whispered roughly, kissing the insides of my thighs up to my core. I was too mesmerized with his softness, his blue eyes burning with love and passion, that I was incapable of answering him.

Then I felt his first finger touch my core and I stiffened up, digging my nails in his shoulders. He immediately stopped, looking up at me, waiting for me to relax. We stared into each others eyes, Thranduil kissing and nibbling on my thighs. “You are safe, meleth. Relax. There is nothing you have to fear.” Taking a deep breath, I focused on his eyes, relaxing as much as I could. And when he felt me giving up my barrier, he kept on pushing his finger inside of me. “See? You are doing great.”

I closed my eyes, the faint sound of his name on my lips and I could feel the familiar feeling starting to grow between my legs. Carefully he added another finger, scissoring them apart, creating a steady rhythm. “Let go, love. You are doing so good. Taking my fingers so well.” He praised me, his voice low and soft like silk. I could feel my blood rush to my face, painting it a light pink shade, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears, that I nearly missed his sweet little murmurs. His mouth wandered all over my thighs, my stomach, and hip bones, until he hovered over my core. “May I?”

“Yes…” I breathed out, moaning, when I felt his lips kiss my sensitive spot. Instinctively I spread my legs further, letting myself fall back onto the bed, one hand still clasping his free arm. “Thranduil…” I moaned, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs, lulled in by his sweet touches and soft little praises. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not really caring, that it was still the early evening, our windows hanging open, still a hurried humming coming from the big ball room.

“Never.” Was all he answered, slowly finger fucking me. It was ridiculous, how fast he was able to find the sweet spot deep inside of me. I heaved myself onto my elbows, wanting to see him, rather than just feeling him. And the expression that he had on his faze was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance, a slight smirk forming on his lips, when he realized I was watching him again. “You taste so fucking good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. The shamelessness of him made me gasp out in embarrassment. His face was covered in my slick, eyes wild and hungry.

His gaze flickered between soft love and hungry possession as he was clearly fighting his urges to claim me. And I was absolutely turned on by it.

Thranduils smile grew wicked, when he saw how much I was affected by him. Wiping my slick of his chin, he licked his fingers clean, making a show out of it, simultaneously not stopping his fingers working my core. “You like that do you?” I wasn’t able to answer, just staring him in the eyes. “Answer me, my love, or I will stop.” He teased, some of his usual possessive self breaking through.

“Yes.” I pressed out, his name quickly following, when he curled his fingers perfectly against my sweet spot. Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept pushing me further down the road of my orgasm. The knot in my lower stomach starting to grow tighter, my legs wrapping around his shoulders, to keep him in place. I could feel my walls starting to flutter around his digits, another sign that I was close. The strength left my upper body and I fell back onto the bed, pulling his free arm close to my chest, nails digging into his skin. My eyes rolled back into my head as his name rang through the room, when my orgasm suddenly washed over me.

I felt him carefully pull out his fingers, his hands gently covering my cunt, as I just dwelled in the feeling. Tears started to form in my eyes and I tugged on his arm. “Meleth…” I mewled, desperate to feel him. He reacted instantly, getting up from his position climbing onto the bed and pulling me higher into the pillows. I turned around, crawling to the headboard falling to my stomach. “Feel you!” I pressed out, hugging a pillow tight to my chest.

Seconds later, I could feel his warm body hovering over me. I reached out for his hand that was holding his weight, clamping my fingers around his wrists. Sinking down on his elbows, he pressed me down, taking my hands in his bigger ones. The new intimate position making me feel hot and safe at the same time. His strong chest forced me down, chest hair tickling on my back, his thighs caging me in, as he buried me underneath him. “Thranduil…” I whimpered desperately, bucking my ass against his crotch.

He growled into my ear, his lips smothering me roughly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. “Please… I need you… Meleth…” I tried again, pressing up against his body, only to be met with him pressing me down further. “By Valar, please… I cant bare it anymore…” Begging for more, I cried out for him the tension in my body so high, that I was sure I would snap any moment.

His hands were roaming over my body, when he suddenly grabbed my arm, twisting me around. I shrieked and he instantly pulled back, skidding back to the edge of the bed, hands raised. “I am sorry, darling. I let myself go. Forgive me.”

“Its alright, Meleth. I trust you. I just didn’t expect this.” I smiled at him, reaching out for him. “Come back. Please.”

“What if I hurt you?” He stayed at the end of the bed.

“You wont hurt me.”

“You don’t know that!” He nearly yelled; the stress clear in his eyes. I gulped hard, seeing him irritated like that send a shiver down my spine. Taking a deep breath, I forced the unwanted thoughts out of my head.

“I know that you would never willingly do something that would harm me in any way. And that is all you can do. I trust you with all my life and I want this, meleth. I need this. Please. What can I do to make you believe me? To help you to trust yourself with me?”

“Promise to tell me, when its too much, or when I hurt you.” He rasped, slowly coming back to me, leaning his face into my hand.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” He whispered, kissing my palm, before he sat back on his ankles, opening his breeches and I couldn’t help but stare at him.

His cock sprung free, hard, and tinted in a light pink shade, a drop of precum already crowning on his tip. “Fuck yes…” I breathed, staring at his manhood, not realizing, that he moved again, ridding himself from his breeches, crawling towards me again. He forced me to lay back down on my back and I just wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him flush against my core. That caused him to grind his hips against mine, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. I just clung to his body, squirming against his touch. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts, taking one nipple between his lips.

Him sucking so delicately on my nipple, let me jolt in pleasure. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, twitching in anticipation. Supporting all his weight on one hand, he looked at me one last time, waiting for me to give him my consent. Nodding I bit my lip, bracing myself for what was about to come. He guided his hard member into me, very carefully easing his way in. I was still incredible wet from my previous orgasm, but I wasn’t prepared to take him, my body tensing up at the intrusion, making him stop mid movement. “Are you alright, darling? We don’t have to…” But I shook my head. “Go on. I want this.” 

Once he bottomed out, he stayed sheathed like that, distracting any thought I had with kissing me, until my head spun. It didn’t take long for me to grow accustomed to him, my hips starting to roll against him. I held onto his shoulders, looking him deep into the eyes. “I love you.” Thranduil nearly crumbled at my words, closing his eyes and groaning lowly. “Fuck me… That’s the hottest ‘I love you’, you have ever said.” Giggling I blushed. “I doubt that.”

“Not that it isn’t incredible to hear you say it in any other situation, but this… this just hits different. You trusting me like this... This memory will forever be my heaven.”

“You old romantic.” I groaned, but my smile betrayed me, him bending down for a kiss. “Always for you.”

Slowly he started to move, setting a slow and steady pace, fully set on pleasuring me as much and long as he could. My walls started to accommodate him more, relaxing around him. I hummed at the sweet feeling that started to spread through my body, my head sinking deeper into the pillows. “Yes…” I sighed, closing my eyes, just holding onto his upper arms.

“I love you, darling. Just relax and enjoy.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly fogging up my mind, a light veil covering us.

He bent down to my neck, kissing it, nibbling onto my shoulder and a short worry of being marked up by him shot through me, but when he managed to hit my sweet spot, that worry got kicked out of my mind again. “Thranduil!” I yelped, digging my nails into his arms even more. “Do it again.” He growled against my skin, his teeth nipping on the sweet spot right under my ear. “Let me hear how much this pleasures you.” I complied to his demand, babbling before I even managed to filter anything that left my mouth: “Please… Give me more… I need more. Make me your wife, please… This feels so good. You feel so good. Claim me, please… meleth.”

“God, Y/N.” He moaned. “You are going to be the death of me…” The way he was so affected by it, only fed the tingly feeling in my body, spreading it to my limps. The tension in my lower stomach now growing bigger with every second, causing me to produce a guttural moan. I clasped my hand in front of my mouth, my gaze wandering towards the open balcony door, but Thranduil didn’t seem to mind one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a growl, taking my hand away again. “Let them hear. Let the whole kingdom know, that you are my wife.”

Shifting his weight, he leaned back on his ankles, raising my hips, while fucking me deeper into the mattress. The new position caused him to hit a particular deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of me in a loud cry of his name.

“Say it again, little one. Let everyone know who you belong to.” He darkly smiled at me, his thrust not faltering one second. “So beautiful. So perfect for me. Taking my cock so well.” Praising me, he didn’t let go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, bereth. I want to see you, when you come.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him, mesmerized by him, not able to resist the drawl he put into calling me his wife. His wife. That title alone did things to my mind, I wasn’t prepared for. The knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to pull me under. And by the way he was grinning, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered, the way my walls fluttered around his length. “Go on, my starlight. Let go for me. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head. Wanna feel how you twitch around me and make a mess on my cock.” He spurred me on. And on cue I came.

Hard.

My back arched from the bed, eyes rolling back inside my head. I shivered in his hands in pure bliss of my orgasm, his name ringing through the room loud enough, that I was sure even the soldiers standing guard on the southern entrance were able to hear me. This orgasm was hard and fast, crushing into me like a rogue wave. Thranduil still kept his pace, thrusting into me, roughly praising me: “That’s it, darling. Ride it out. You are doing so good. Looking so fucking beautiful.” And I could feel my cum leak on his lap, drawing lush sounds from my core.

“Meleth!” I cried out, now completely kicked out of reality.” Crying out in desperation I reached out for him. Thranduil gave into my pleading, leaning forward again, pressing me down with his full body, effectively caging me in between his hot chest and soft mattress. “Yes…” I mewled, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling him thrust much deeper into me. I was again babbling absolutely unfiltered: “Don’t stop, meleth. Makes me feel safe. So good. Thank you.”

“Of course, darling. Everything for you.” His voice sounded strained and I realized that he was close as well. “Its okey. You can let go.” I tried to get the words out straight, but another moan rippled through me, him groaning, desperately gripping a pillow. “No. I am not finished with you. I want you to come with me.” The pure determination and love in his words, striking me deeply, so that I couldn’t help but, whimper again. I earned a soft bite on my shoulder, followed by more praises: “Fuck yes… I love it when you do that. Taking me so well, moaning for me in such beautiful tones.”

Sneaking a hand between us, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles over it. I clenched around his cock as an answer, goosebumps spreading over my skin, as he forced the fire to burn up in my body once again. A shiver ran down my spine, my walls fluttering around his cock, my legs wrapping around him even tighter. It spurred him on to fuck me even harder, his fingers moving faster, the sloppy kisses on my neck now closer to love bites than anything else. I started to shake uncontrollably, my body overwhelmed by the desire and stimulation that he had and still was administrating.

“I got you.” He rasped out and it was all I needed to hear. I came again, succumbing to a shivering mess underneath him, clamping down on his cock. “Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned and I could feel him twitch inside of me. The feeling of his hot seed shooting up my core made me whimper desperately and I couldn’t help myself but to think about what it would feel like to carry his child. Slowing down his pace, he rode out our orgasms, smothering every bit of skin with wet kisses. He was breathing hard, trying his best to catch his stance again.

Pressing me close to himself, he rolled onto his back and I was now lying on top of him. “You did so good, meleth nin. Took me so well. I promise I will always love and protect you. You are everything to me, the only thing I would give away everything I own for without batting an eye.” Listening to his sweet ramblings, I let the tears roll from my cheeks, cherishing his love and the sweet intimate moment between us.

To my dismay, it was interrupted far too quickly, when I felt the mixture of my slick and his seed trickling out of me. Wriggling in his arms, I tried to find a comfortable spot, but the stickiness just got worse. He was quick to realize what was the problem. Pressing a kiss to my head, he rolled around again, getting up from the bed. “Stay there. I will get something to get you cleaned up.”

I just watched him scramble through the room and come back with a bowl of water and a wash cloth. He looked so incredible hot like this. His hair messy and disheveled. Eyes still glowing with desire. And when he saw his cum seeping out of me, I believed to see his gaze grow even darker. I sighed loudly, catching his look with mine: “How was I ever able to deny me such pleasures…?” He laughed at my words, slowly sinking to the bed and cleaning me up with soft little touches. “From now on you will never have to. Whenever you need me, feel free to come and get me.”

“Even when you are in a meeting?” I asked and he smirked at me: “Especially then.”

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Epilogue

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: That marks the end of this series :( thank you guys so much for all the love and feedback! I’m so proud of this series and I hope u guys love it as much as I do.

Masterlist: Here

It had been a year since the custody battle, since Rafe and you had found yourselves standing side by side, figuring out this whole "family" thing. A year since both of you issued a restraining order against Ward, and the judge granted it. A year since you stopped pretending you didn’t feel something for him, and he stopped acting like he was too good for anyone, especially you. Now, the chaos of life had settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was yours.

And, somehow, against all odds, the three of you had made it work.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, where you stood trying to assemble breakfast. You had learned, over time, that cooking for Willa was an Olympic sport. Every time you managed to whip together a simple meal, she somehow managed to flip the situation on its head—literally.

"Willa, no!" you heard Rafe call out from the living room. You looked up just in time to see him frantically trying to stop her from scaling the couch like some sort of tiny, diaper-clad Spider-Man. “You can’t climb up there!”

But Willa was undeterred. She gave a small shriek of triumph, her baby legs scrabbling up the cushions like she was born to conquer furniture. You had to admit, you were impressed.

"I swear she’s part monkey," you muttered under your breath, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.

Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking out at odd angles, the look of a man who had given up on ever having a decent morning.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” he deadpanned, rubbing his face. “We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. No more couch climbing. She’s already an inch away from that giant coffee table, which, let me remind you, is made of solid oak. And do you know what happens when Willa decides gravity is optional?”

You snorted. “We end up on the floor with her holding a half-empty juice box like she’s just conquered the world, while you scramble to pick up the pieces of your dignity.”

He shot you a pointed look. “Exactly.”

You set the pancakes aside and wandered over to rescue Willa, who was now attempting to climb up the back of the couch like a small, determined mountain goat. Scooping her up with one hand, you held her up in front of you. “You know, kid, you’re lucky you’re so cute, because if I had to stop doing my work every time you decided to do a backflip off a chair, I’d be in therapy by now.”

Willa gurgled, her eyes wide and innocent, as though she didn’t have a single rebellious bone in her tiny body.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I’m just saying, if she’d stop doing that, maybe I could get ten minutes of peace. But no. We live in a house of chaos.”

You smirked, watching as Willa grabbed his shirt and yanked. “If she’s chaos, you’re the tornado that hits right after,” you teased, making Rafe roll his eyes dramatically. “Just admit it—you love it.”

He groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I love the chaos. But you have to admit it’s a lot of work. I mean, who’s going to put together her tiny little rocking horse without accidentally breaking something?”

“Not me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rocking horse three times already.”

At that, Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll take that as my cue to fix it. You keep trying to make breakfast, and I’ll figure out what’s going on with the toy horse that’s apparently haunted.”

Willa babbled in your arms, and you kissed the top of her head. “I’m not saying this to be dramatic, but I’m pretty sure she is a secret agent in training. I’ve seen her figure out how to break into places she’s not supposed to be like she’s in a spy movie.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Spy movie? She’s more like a tiny burglar who knows how to manipulate you with her big eyes and unstoppable giggle.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Fair. But I still think she could make a killing in espionage. Maybe we should start saving for her college fund in case she ends up needing a fake passport.”

Rafe grinned, his mood visibly lightened by your banter. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to need therapy more than we need a college fund. But I’ll get started on that fake passport idea, just in case.”

You grinned back at him, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. There was a time—just a year ago—when you had no idea what your future would look like. Now, here you were, a family, even if it didn’t look like any family you had ever imagined.

“Well,” you said, turning back to the pancakes, “we better get our act together before she eats all the syrup by herself.”

Rafe snorted and shot you a grin. “You think she’s not going to try that already?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later that day, after Willa’s nap (which, let’s be honest, was more of a battle than an actual nap), you and Rafe found yourselves in the backyard, taking a breather after the chaotic lunch you’d just survived. Willa was happily playing in her little sandbox, tossing sand like it was confetti at a New Year’s party, while you and Rafe collapsed onto the porch swing, exhausted but content.

"How the hell did we get here?" you asked, your voice quiet, more to yourself than to him.

Rafe leaned back with a sigh, staring up at the sky. "I’m pretty sure we got here because you’re too stubborn to admit you love me," he said with a grin.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Excuse me, but it’s not just me that’s stubborn. Have you seen the way you try to resist her puppy-dog eyes? You can’t even handle Willa when she does her sad little face, and you know it."

He groaned. “It’s my kryptonite. I’m weak. I’ll admit it.”

“Good. Because that means you’re finally accepting that she’s the boss around here. We’re just along for the ride.”

Rafe chuckled, nudging you back. “If that’s true, then I’m okay with it. Besides, she has the best team behind her, right?”

You smiled softly, watching Willa scoop up a handful of sand and drop it like a tiny little sandstorm. “Right. And we’re the best team for her.”

There was a pause, a quiet moment where both of you watched Willa. The future was still uncertain—life always was—but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem so scary.

“Well,” Rafe said, standing up and stretching, “I guess we better go make sure our future crime boss doesn’t eat the sand. You know, for her health.”

You snorted, laughing as you stood too. “You mean for the safety of our sanity?”

“That too,” Rafe said, laughing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a warm hug.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And for once, that was enough.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

And so, life continued. Chaotic. Messy. Full of love. Your newfound family was far from conventional, but it was undeniably theirs—and somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

Plus, Willa? She’d definitely grow up to be a world-class agent of chaos, and Rafe and you would have to learn to live with that.

But at least you’d be together.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[daggerfall]

Daedric Princes and their appearances in ESO

*as of 2025.

**sorry this is long

Azura: we've spoken to her through statues and intermediaries she has possessed during the Vvardenfell main quest and prologue, as well as side quests in Stormhaven and Grahtwood, but never to her real form.

Boethiah: she has appeared three times throughout the Pact base game and in Craglorn's Dragonstar Arena as "Aspera the Forgotten/Giant-Friend/Arena-Friend", a sort of avatar/mortal form of Boethiah. This is more canon than other avatar/mortal forms on this list in my opinion, especially Giant-Friend. She also speaks during the Arena through a statue of herself. We have never spoken to her real form either.

Clavicus Vile (and Barbas): the player speaks to Vile during the Vvardenfell main quest through his statue, and to both to his true form and through intermediaries in Summerset's main quest. Barbas appears in both of those main quests as well, plus a side quest in Reapers March. Barbas appears as both a dog, Skaafin, and shapeshifted into (spoiler)'s form.

Hermaeus Mora: Mora appears in many places throughout the base game. The Vile Manse, side quests in Greenshade, Craglorn, and Bangkorai, and of course during Necrom and Gold Road. He appears in both his true form and through statues.

Hircine: appears a few times in Valenwood zones side quests via Aspects and through memories, through a statue in Bangkorai, during the quest to become a werewolf, and appears in his true form in the Hunting Ground during the March of Sacrifices dungeon. The last one has more him speaking At the player and other NPCs than it being a true conversation between you both.

Ithelia: created for and only appears in ESO during Gold Road, and unlikely to ever reappear, for plot reasons. She comes into her true form throughout the storyline, starting out looking even more like a mortal.

Jyggalag: no, and unlikely to ever appear unless we get a Greymarch DLC. We have some random thieving treasures that mention him though, and the (Replica) Sword of Jygalagg has been released on the Crown Store.

Malacath: we have the Obsidian Shard public dungeon appearance as the only thing close to a form. Sort of an avatar, sort of a projection, all base game. Old Orsinium public dungeon has him speaking to us through statues. And another Wrothgar side quest has an option for him to speak. But we have not seen his true form in game or spoken to him in it.

Mehrunes Dagon: speaks to the player and NPCs in City of Ash I, and we see a vision of Dagon speaking to (spoiler) during the Auridon main quest. We see Dagon's true form and even fight him during the Blackwood and Deadlands main quest.

Mephala: her appearances in the base game have her using a generic spider daedra form or a dremora with a ghostly shader, but during the Summerset main quest, the player speaks with Mephala in her true form. Her base game appearances are a side quest in Bangkorai and Reaper's March, as well as speaking at the end of Crypt of Hearts II

Meridia: she appears several times in the Coldharbour main quest, as a generic Breton woman, then the same but with a yellow ghostly shader. We speak to her through her statue in the Summerset main quest. You could argue we've never spoken to her true form.

Molag Bal: seen and spoken to multiple times in the main quest, personally fought in the main quest in his true form. Speaks a few times to taunt the player and NPCs during the Fighters Guild main quest. Also speaks at every dolmen, and a few spots in the Imperial City Sewers.

Namira: one singular appearance in a Shadowfen side quest, where she appears as an Aspect of herself (looking like a spectral Xivilai). We have statues of her, but she never appears as her true form. Despite being relevant in Markarth, does not truly appear, unless you count the Dark Heart itself.

Nocturnal: she speaks at the end of the Clockwork City main quest, and you see her true form throughout the Summerset main quest (along with speaking to her). A Blackwood side quest has you speaking to her through her statue.

Peryite: the closest we've gotten is hearing him speak during a memory with Vaermina and Hermaeus Mora in the Necrom main quest. He only appears as his statue form, and never speaks To the player. People sometimes argue Jorvuld speaking after Scalecaller Peak is Peryite possessing him, but it's actually Zaan (in my opinion), so sadly that doesn't count as an appearance. This was the last daedric prince who was yet to speak in ESO's history, if you count the following...

Sanguine: now there's no Technically canon appearance of Sanguine in game. But! It is believed that the NPC Samuel Gourone from the Jester Festival is Sanguine in mortal form. His appearance, mannerisms, the quest he gives all hint to this being the case. Like all Princes (besides Jyg), he does have a Statue form, we just have never seen him appearing as it.

Sheogorath: He features in the Mages Guild main quest, Southpoint in Grahtwood, teaches you how to use Volendrung in Cyrodiil, and appears as the Skooma Cat in Northern Elsweyr. All of which you can speak to, and this is definitely his true form.

Vaermina: she appears during the Stormhaven main quest, speaks during a side quest in the Rift, and apears in the Necrom main quest as a primary antagonist. Her appearances vary from speaking with a statue, speaking with and fighting an intermediary (person she is possessing), and seeing her true form post fight.

If anyone has any other appearances I missed, let me know!

[spiribia]

not sure how common of a sentiment it is but some of my favorite particles of guild wars 2 were in wandering the maps early on completing the renown hearts. i've seen these referred to as tedious fetch activities before, but i loved to 'walk around putting feed in cow troughs / disarming landmines / clearing out giant spider egg sacs / setting up bear traps / selecting the correct dialogue options for NPCs.' i loved getting to know the world in that manner - the free roam format of gw2 doesn't instruct you 'i run a farm - what you have to do now is fetch me 5 pieces of firewood and return, thank you, here's a second thing, i have rats, go kill 5 rats and return', it says 'i run a farm where i'm currently stretched thin ever since the elder dragon disruption - we have a rat infestation, we need firewood, our fences are in disrepair, wild animals keep killing my chickens, and workers are forgetting to take breaks and eat, and i haven't had time to make the rounds and bring them these lunches i packed. if you could lend a hand with any amount of any number of these things, you would be saving my hide.' then you go to the next settlement and they're like 'we're a research team studying the effects of the elder dragon blight on the land - we need to make sure our monitoring devices are set up properly, that any researchers that may have passed out from environmental hazards are recovered and / or defended against hostile life, and that we weed out any inquest spies among us that want to use our data for nefarious purposes.' and so on. eventually, the accumulation of any small activities you do in aid fills up the bar for the area to completion. i even like traditional fetch quest format myself, but it's the difference between being told 'hey, my hands are full, can you hold the door for me' and seeing someone with their hands full approaching a door and having the option to hold it open. you become a good samaritan and an active participant in the world. you understand the broader scope of people's daily struggles and get a sense of what their lives are like. it made me care about the world. my long winded post to say they should have let you help kryptis in their little camps set up fortifications and raise morale by talking to them and helping one of them collect nayos flowers because it heard that tyrians have rituals to commemorate their dead and a few astral ward people died in here and they want to do something for them

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

This Isn't Over

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader (platonic?), Reader POV

Prompt: "You sold my car for magic beans?"/"Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything."

Requested by: @waynes-multiverse

Tropes: Established friendship

Summary:  When Dean plays a prank on you, your only option is to retaliate, but maybe you took it too far. (This can be read as platonic or as a friends with benefits situation- whichever you want it to be 😊)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Some cursing, Ridiculous Pranks, Friendship, Prank Gone Too Far? Reader and Dean being menaces to one another? Fluff? Reader is described as having hair long enough to put up in a bun.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A/N: Second fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the lovely @waynes-multiverse ENJOY!

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

There was a kiss of fall on the wind that played with the hair at the nape of your neck, winding through the strands and pulling them out of the messy bun at the back of your head. 

But it was a good day. 

You’d met Dean here yesterday, your paths crossing as they always did when the two of you were out looking for jobs and it was a happy coincidence. Your friend looked a little more worn around the eyes than he usually did, a few gray strands in his golden brown hair, but he had the same smile that crinkled all the lines on his face and made you feel special. 

Dean didn’t smile like that at everyone, you supposed after ten years of friendship you’d earned that. The two of you had been through quite a bit together and you guessed that there was more than enough to come. 

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the wooden back of the bench with a content sigh.

The leaves on the trees hanging over your head and lining the streets were just starting to brown, slipping into yellows, reds, and happy oranges to herald the changing of the seasons.

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

In your experience places like coffee shops, grocery stores, and diners were usually breeding grounds for the best gossip, where people would congregate and talk in hushed whispers about the happenings in town. 

But not here. There was nothing but smiles and happy chatter that caught on the wind from the cafe just within ear shot that also brought the warm smells of cinnamon and coffee with it. 

The best thing Dean and you had discovered here was the apple pie at the diner he’d taken you to this morning. The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

Your lips curl slightly on the ends mischievously thinking that Dean had what was coming to him. 

The pie wasn’t the only reason why you’d decided to play a harmless prank on your friend. 

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes. 

Your revenge would be swift and merciless.

As soon as he had rounded the corner you’d slid across the worn leather front seat, put Baby in reverse, pulled out of the parking spot and backed her into the adjacent alley, just out of view. You’d then crossed the street to the small grocery store and asked the shop owner if you could borrow five loose dried beans. He’d obliged you with an odd look on his face, but you didn’t care. 

You’d never cared that people thought you were weird, you hunted creatures that no one believed, weird was every day of your life. Not to mention you were sure that you'd go stir crazy if you were stuck anywhere "normal."

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean calls walking towards you, a fresh newspaper crinkling in his hand and a coffee carrier with two mugs sitting snugly inside. His smile drops as he surveys the empty street. “Where’s Baby? Did you take her to a car wash?”

“Dean, the most amazing thing happened!” You bounced from the bench, a wide smile on your face. “I was sitting here minding my business and this guy showed up-“

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

It was like your best friend to jump to the worst conclusion, and given what the two of you did for a living it was a valid assumption. 

“No, let me finish!” You wave a hand with a laugh. “He complimented the car, asked me what year she was, what engine she had under the hood- etc. Finally, he told me that he wanted to buy her.”

“This better not be where I think it’s going.” Dean’s eyes narrow, suspicion swimming in the familiar green hue. 

Over the years as the two of you aged, Dean’s eyes never did. They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

You continue hiding your amusement at his reaction with much difficulty, trying to channel the laugh bubbling up into false excitement. 

He really had this coming.

“So I told him. This car is worth more than money and he goes, ‘oh it’s sentimental?’ and I said yes, and I thought he was going to leave, But then he says ‘well I don’t have cash but what I do have are-’“ You reach into your jacket pocket, it’s really Dean’s, but he’d put it around your shoulders at the diner when a blast of air-conditioning made you shiver. “BAM!” 

You hold out your palm and show Dean the five dried beans from your pocket, pausing for effect.

Dean’s gaze drops to your hand, not quite comprehending what you were trying to say. “What the hell are those?" 

“Magic beans!” This time you wiggle your fingers mysteriously, allowing the smile you were trying to hold back stretch over your face.

Dean’s eye begins to twitch. “Please tell me that you stole them from him and you took Baby to a carwash.”

As if Dean would let anyone other than himself wash his car.

“Nope. I told him that he had a deal.” You smile wider. 

Your friend looks like he’s about to faint and spontaneously combust at the same time when he realizes exactly what you said. His expression freezes somewhere between horror and realization, looking from your open palm to the empty street as if to confirm what you’ve already admitted aloud.

 “You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

The people walking by stop and look at the two of you.

“Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything!” You argue, again fighting a smile. “I’m sure that-”

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?” The coffee in the carrier sloshes with Dean’s gestures so much that he thinks better of it and puts down the carrier on the bench you vacated to tell him the “good news.”

“Calm down Rumplestilskin! These are magic beans!” You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

It wasn’t so hard to fake it given that you were still angry from the spider prank this morning. 

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what it means!”

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left. 

You wait a beat, pretending to be interested in the reddish brown kidney beans that turn a burnished orange in the light of the sun. 

A car drives by, the clouds continue to float above your head, the wind picks up to sift through your hair, but nothing happens to the beans

Predictably.

“Huh.” You muse, biting your lip to keep yourself from giggling. “Maybe they’re slow acting?” 

“Or you sold my car for a bag full of shit!” Dean runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands so hard you think he'll pull them out.

“Maybe I’m using them wrong? They didn’t come with instructions.” You say, pating your pockets as if looking for something and continuing to ignore Dean. "Maybe we need to sing or something. Quick, pick a song!"

Your chest was burning from keeping the laugh at bay, jaw aching from keeping the smile that wished to break through. 

I have to be strong. Just for a few more seconds. This will be worth it. 

Honestly, it already was. 

You begin to hum the beginning of ACDC's Thunderstruck, pinching your lips together as you do and avoid Dean's murderous gaze.

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

“What?” Cas says, appearing behind Dean with his usual frown, eyebrows furrowed together. His trenchcoat is pristine, billowing slightly in the breeze that picks up at his appearance.

“Take me to my car.” Dean demands to the angel, who looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“That’s why you called me here?” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“Yes! Take me to my car CAS!” Dean shouts even louder.

Some of the people at the coffee shop two doors down lean back in their chairs, staring in your direction, curious about what's going on.

“He’s not a lojack system.” You clear your throat to hide the giggle. 

Oh this is so much better than when I changed out his shampoo with blue hair dye.

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Dean points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“I don’t know where you car is Dean.” Cas replies.

Dean’s eye continues to twitch, until finally he lets out a high pitched. “Son of a bitch!"

Dean takes off in a dead run down the sidewalk in the direction he came from, shouting "I'm coming Baby! Hold on!" His voice echoes over the buildings that line the street as he almost crashes into an older man who's out walking a small dog in a bright pink sweater.

The laugh finally breaks free from your lips in a strangled cackle as you film Dean running away from you, before sending it to Sam. It was the same thing that Dean had done with his video of you and it was only fair for Sam to give him as much crap as he'd given you when he called to laugh at you after receiving Dean's text.

“You didn’t really sell his car did you?” Cas asks, while you continue to wheeze, gasping for breath on the sidewalk. 

“Nah-" You choke out. "I wouldn’t do that. I know how much he loves her. She’s in the alley.” You gesture with your head back behind you. “Bastard put a plastic spider under the bathroom door this morning. Scared the shit out of me.” 

Cas looks confused. “A plastic spider?”

“Yeah, he knows I hate spiders.” 

“But if you knew it was plastic why were you frightened?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t know it was plastic.”

“Oh.” He still looks confused so you reach over and give him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder to reassure him. 

You didn’t have many interactions with the angel, but you took it as your job to make sure he understood some things about human life.

So far it didn't appear to be helping.

“It’s alright Cas, you can go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He nods once and vanishes before you can say anything else. 

You sit back down on the bench laughing to yourself into your coffee mug while Dean comes running back up the street.

“Why the hell are you still sitting here? We have to find her! Who knows what that freak could have done to her!” Dean exclaims, shaking your shoulders.

“How does it feel to be faced with your worst fear?” You smirk while taking a calm sip of your coffee. “Payback is a bitch isn’t it Winchester?"

Dean’s face goes from worried to angry in a heartbeat. “Are you friggin kidding me?! You pretended that you sold my car because of the shower thing?”

“And because you stole the last bite of my pie!” 

“I’ve stolen the last bite before-”

“Then you had it coming.” You take another sip of coffee with a triumphant smile.

“Wow. Just wow.” Dean frowns at you. “I hate you.”

“I know.” You smile wider, patting him on the back. “I hate you too buddy. Now come on let’s go see if there’s anything here to do."

“You do realize this isn’t over right?” Dean says as you begin to walk towards the alley where you hid Baby.

You stop to look over at your friend. “Wait, what?”

“This isn’t over.” Dean repeats.

“I think it is-”

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

You stand there for a moment, taking in the serious expression on your friend’s face. You saw all the hardened edges of his jaw, dusted with scruff that made him look just a little more wild. 

Fine. 

You step closer to him, so close you can smell the shampoo he stole from you this morning, without blinking an eye at his display. “It’s cute that you think you can win.” 

Dean’s smirk grows wider, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I always win, Sweetheart, one way or another.”

The world continues to spin, the birds above caw and flap their wings, the wind brings the smell of coffee and autumn, but Dean’s eyes remain on yours, unmoving, unwavering.

It didn't scare you.

“Then bring it on, Winchester.” 

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! Imagining Dean running down the street screaming "I'm coming Baby" made me cackle 🤣 But thank you so much again @waynes-multiverse for giving me this prompt!

If anyone else would like to ask me for a prompt for my prompt celebration there are still some left!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰 Also, if you'd like to be added to one of my taglists for the characters I write, please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies

[agaypanic]

Every Night (Spider-Man!Chase Davenport X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chase Davenport is a Mission Creek High student who takes pictures by day, and a bionic web-slinging superhero who fights crime by night. Tonight, he swings by your place with a split lip, a bruised rib, and a wounded ego.

A/N: holy shit an actual fic instead of a shitpost, who would’ve guessed? spiderman au where chase is spiderman bc 📖anon and i agreed that chase davenport is totally peter parker coded (specifically andrew garfield’s). side note: if this was a full avengers au, chase would be spiderman, davenport would be iron man, adam would probably be thor, bree would be black widow, and leo would probably be captain america or the hulk (it’d be funny to see him go from this little stick figure to a giant beefy mutant man). This is most likely not medically accurate

***

“Hold that,” Chase muttered just loud enough for you to hear, adjusting the settings on his new camera. “Stay still.”

“Chase, lunch is gonna be over soon.” You teased, but still held your position as requested.

You heard your boyfriend take a picture, and then a few more. There were a few more flickers of the camera shutter before Chase got up and rounded the picnic table to sit next to you. “What do you think?” Chase asked, showing you the couple of pictures he had just taken.

“I think you make me look really pretty.”

“Nah.” Chase shook his head before kissing your cheek. “That’s all you.”

“Big flirt.” You smiled, taking the camera out of his hands and setting it on the table to kiss him without interruption. Unfortunately, the school bell didn’t get the memo about you wanting to be undisturbed. Chase pouted when you pulled away, making you laugh. “Will I see you tonight?”

Chase stood up, grabbing his camera and your hand. “You always do, babe.”

***

Chase was right; you always did see him. But your question should have been whether he’d come through your front door as Chase Davenport or through your window as Spider-Man. The follow-up question would have been whether or not he’d be bloody and bruised.

Unfortunately, the answer to both questions were the latter options tonight.

“You’re lucky my parents aren’t home,” you said as you helped your boyfriend into your room, trying to avoid the blood-saturated parts of his suit. “Who was it this time?”

“Green Goblin.” Chase winced, plopping down on your bed while he clutched his side. You grabbed the little first aid kit that you kept under your bed ever since finding out about your boyfriend’s super identity. “I was doing my patrol when he just flew by out of nowhere. I didn’t even feel him coming.”

You could hear Chase’s disappointment in his voice as he recounted the events. The fight was difficult, as the wounds you were helping him clean up proved. 

After wiping the blood off his chin from his split lip, you scooted back a little and gestured to Chase’s chest. “Suit off.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” Chase tried to laugh but instead groaned in pain as he pressed the spider emblem on his suit that loosened the once skin-tight fabric. You helped pull the suit off enough to reveal Chase’s chest. It was bruised, sweaty, and heaving. “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes from his teasing and continued tending to Chase’s wounds. “You know, sometimes I wonder why you don’t go to Mr. Davenport for this. I’m sure Davenport Industries has actual nurses, or at least better medical supplies than a homemade first aid kit.”

Chase’s hand, a little shaky from his exhaustion, cupped your cheek, making you tear your eyes away from his purpling side. “I always visit you every night. A little beating isn’t gonna stop me from that.”

You scoffed. You wouldn’t exactly call this a ‘little’ beating. “Okay, but if you get some kind of infection or lifelong medical problem, don’t blame me.”

The rest of your aid was accompanied by silence. You were focused on cleaning Chase up to the best of your abilities, while he was focused on your focus. He wished he had his camera to capture the moment, ignoring the fact that he was wounded and in pain.

“Done,” you said after a long half hour. “Now, go take a shower. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

“I didn’t hear you complain when you were staring at my glistening abs.” Chase teased as he slowly stood up, kicking his suit off so he was only in his boxers.

You playfully swatted at him. “Just go. I’ll have a movie ready when you’re done.”

“And snacks?” Chase looked over his shoulder, looking at you with a pleading look. You nodded, following him out of your room, parting so he could go to the bathroom and you to the kitchen.

“And snacks.”

[mcacomulada]

The trolls as insects (i might draw them later)

Aradia Megido - Maroon Ghost Moth (Elhamma australasiae)

Moths have been repeatedly portrayed as a sign of death. Also, their fluffiness matches the one of Aradia's hair XD. When I read this one's name it was inevitable (ghost???, maroon??, literally her oh my gooood).

Tavros Nitram - Question Mark Butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis)

Mostly based off of the Summoner and Rufioh having wings, I didn't want to make it a monarch butterfly because Tavros is in no way royalty.

Sollux Captor - Western Honey Bee (Apis mellifera)

Pretty self explanatory, Sollux always had a connection (and obsession) with bees. They also sting, which is kind of a metaphor for the psionics.

Karkat Vantas - Seven Spot Ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata)

Ladybirds are always seen as special, even though this instance is not a mutation per se, it's special and red. Also, ladybirds are commonplace pests (which is kind of what Karkat is to HIC).

Nepeta Leijon - Pale Green Assassin Bug (Zelus luridus)

I looked up some good bug hunters and I got assassin bugs, nepeta is the mightiest of huntresses, so it fits.

Kanaya Maryam - Green Headed Ant (Rhytidoponera metallica)

I was doubting wether to make Kanaya an ant or a silk moth, but ultimately, moths are a better representation of Aradia, and ants mimic jade-blood's function in troll society better. A part from being green, this species of ant apparently has a nice bite, which is representative of Kanaya's fierceness.

Terezi Pyrope - Ebony Jewelwing (Calopteryx maculata)

I am aware that the dragonfly pictured is male, just ignore that lol, headcanon the trolls as hermaphroditic (i will post about their biological cycle hehe). Dragonflies are said to be insect's best predators, Terezi is also a vicious and precise hunter, if not of other trolls literally, of outcomes and possibilities (she is intelligent, and a Seer of Mind).

Vriska Serket - Peacock Tarantula (Poecilotheria metallica)

Also pretty self explanatory, it's a blue spider, therefore Vriska Serket. Spiders in general are already a good representation of how she is percieved (with fear lol). Yea, simple explanation.

Equius Zahhak - "Pure Blue" Giant Flower Beetle (Mecynorhina torquata)

The strongest of bugs are beetles (among some types of ants, who are better described as proportionally strongest). This particular one is also pretty big and strong, and coincidentally presents this type of coloration.

Gamzee Makara - Purple-Winged Grasshopper (Titanacris albipes)

Originally was going to be a praying mantis, but the orchid mantis was just too perfect for Feferi. Locusts also have ties to religion and mythology, which was my main focus for finding Gamzee's insect (they have been, fittingly, a symbol of destruction for eons).

Eridan Ampora - Canopy Mosquito (Sabethes cyaneus)

Tbh, I based most of this decision off of the fact that Eridan is annoying (I don't hate him, it's just his personality, unfortunately). Also, mosquitos breed in water (at least that's what my parents always told me) which matches the aquatic theme.

Feferi Peixes - Orchid Mantis (Hymenopus coronatus)

Feferi is the troll I had the most trouble with. Originally I tried keeping up with the aquatic theme and had found Ranatra linearis, a stickbug that looks like a mantis and hunts little fish. I discarded the option because even though it was aquatic, the connections with Feferi kind of ended there.

I then tried to search for a bug that had "empress" in the name, and had chosen Megapomponia imperatoria, a giant as fuck cicada. It didn't convince me either though.

I chose the orchid mantis because, mantises are cutthroat, good hunters and pink as fuck. If that's not a description of the tyrian blood caste I don't know what is.

I wanted to make one of these drawing comparisons to different species of ants. There exist some cool af ants out there, I might do it.

[velvetwyrme]

What kind of Cybug do you think Shockwave would be? I always thought of him as a moth something like a Cecropia moth because they are CHUNKY and the large eyes. Or eye, in this case, but I'm curious. What do you think?

oooh moth Shockwave is fun...!!! hes also got the potential for lil mothy antennae as well 🥺🥺 im enjoying the idea of him having cool eye marking on his wings too... very cool....

as for other options... hm. im always reminded of his little guys in Cyberverse which are kinda spidery or beetle-y

ehehehe... little guys.

anyway they read kinda spidery to me but i also dont think shockwave would be a spider? i briefly considered cockroach (probably a loose connection to Humans B Gone and the cockroach professor in that LOL. men of Science.) but also... i could see him being a giant water bug (big, scary, also has big eye/s. makes me think of that one Skybound issue with his ocean blender)

im really not sure honestly !

TFA!Shockwave/Longarm should be some sort of bug that mimics other bugs though. theres plenty to pick from in that respect XD