#how all the other goblins KNEW him or at least OF him and they had this history

[lilyofporcelain]

DWC - 20 Nov - Day 4 - Surrender / Tranquil

“You simply hold it flat... and whichever direction the arrow points, is the direction of north. You need only consider a simple acronym for remembering the cardinal directions. Never. Eat. Soggy. Waffles.”

Afternoon sunlight stretched through the canopy of tall, looming deciduous gold, red, and orange trees above her. Around her, the scent of peacebloom, a soft field of white petals. Beneath her, a pool of dark hair like twilight in soft, light waves. In her left hand, a compass. She’d used it when she was down south, remembering what Andaeros had told her when she admitted she had no idea how to use one. And she remembered as she traversed clearings and rocky cliff sides that she still wasn’t wholly certain she knew how they worked.

Was there a compass for life? If so, then she certainly could have used it. Maybe she wouldn’t have taken so many awkward turns. Thinking about it like that, however, made her feel as if she was trying to escape responsibility. And to be fair… she wasn’t lost. Questioning herself without doubt, but not lost.

“I mean, is it because nobody has ever believed in you before. … Is it because you don't believe in yourself like we believe in you.”

Laeynna looked thoughtful as she turned Junarra’s words over in her head. The goblin had no way of knowing it at the time, but the words were more accurate and striking than Laeynna wanted them to be. It was one more thing for her to confront. One more thing for her to contemplate. Combining it with everything else she was trying to hold in her hands, it felt like it was the last thing she could endure before breaking. And she certainly… had broken. In one way or another, at least.

But Andaeros had weathered it. She wasn’t accustomed to that. Perhaps because she hadn’t allowed anyone to ever do so before. She kept replaying their conversation in her head.

“Let me help you, in some small way. If not for your sake, then for mine. To feel put to use.”

She’d always kept him at a distance. Proverbial arm lifted to keep a certain space between them. Some things she could handle. Sharing his bed, she realised, had been somewhat easier than the other things. Sharing her heart. Letting him into hers. Exposing herself. Revealing her secrets. Facing his judgement. Those had been so much more difficult. Many of those hurdles she had managed to clear with time, patience, and circumstance. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t supposed to be.

Laeynna had never wanted it to be.

Eyeing the compass she clutched in her hand, she gently shut it, deciding that it was likely not going to help direct her. Lowering her hand, she held his compass atop her heart and stared through the leafy branches above her thoughtfully. It wasn’t just her in a relationship. She couldn’t keep the same approach. It wasn’t fair or right to Andaeros. It wasn’t how she wanted it to be either. Once, he had reminded her that their relationship was based on mutuality. Mutual sentiments. Mutual needs. Where she had argued the concept of relying on him, he’d corrected her.

Would… it have been such a terrible thing to depend on him? To let him help her? Scraping her teeth along her bottom lip, the furrow in her brow was deep. It wasn’t just for her. It was for him, as well. If she wanted to be useful to him, then it made sense that he would feel the same way. If she forever made it seem as though she would face everything herself, then she would only succeed at building a wall between them.

“...I love you, Laeynna…”

Love. There was that, too. It still played repetitiously in her head. The first time he’d said it on a golden, sunny morning, it had nearly petrified her with fear. At least, a part of her. There was the part that had been extremely overcome with emotion, which was, in her opinion, not very like her at all. Days had made it a little easier for her to digest and to accept. Thinking it had been one thing. Saying it had been another entirely. Claiming the words. Committing to them. Letting herself accept them. Acknowledging that he was the one offering them to her.

Laeynna still had complications with it. The kinds that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her perception of self. He knew about some of it. How she viewed herself. And she had admitted to him relatively early on that she was always so much kinder to others than she was to herself. As to whether he knew how deep all of that went, however, she wasn’t certain. It was not a subject she really wanted to dive into, and convinced that he might eventually come to perceive her as an imposition, a burden, she’d struggled to say anything.

If she accepted his invitation, would it be too much? For him? For her? For them? Would she break everything? Was their love so fragile that she thought she could snap it so easily?

Shaking her head, Laeynna huffed out a breath. No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Not when it took them as long as it did to get to where they were. For her, it wasn’t some trivial concept. Andaeros wasn’t… some passing fancy, and her feelings had never been trivial or meagre sorts when she actually started accepting she had them. If that was the course she had charted for herself, then it was the one she intended to travel. She would have to adjust how she thought about things. All things. Not just her deepened relationship with the disgraced spellbreaker, but also with herself.

Something had to give.

With a soft little sigh, Laeynna lifted the compass again, standard make. Durable. Steel alloy. Glass. As she carefully opened it, she flattened her palm, watching the arrow in red remain in the very same spot that it had been the last time she opened it. No. Maybe she still didn’t know how they worked, after all.

“...So,” she said aloud, mostly to herself, though in part to the compass in her hands. “Mister Ross’ compass, how do I tell him that I accept?”

— @daily-writing-challenge — Mentions: @andaerosdawnflare

[pinacoladamatata]

I'm still so mad about the Wyll rewrite actually

[faesdreaming]

Yandere Miguel O’Hara Headcanons

a/n: there are two routes platonic and romantic, which will be bolded and colour-coded like this, please forgive my spanish i am breaking out my high school spanish classes.

tw: yandere themes, possessive, obsessive, and controlling behaviour, potential spoilers, suggestive themes (romantic route), captivity, canonical inaccuracies, implied neglect (platonic route)

•Becoming the hero Arachnid wasn’t something you ever planned on happening. You were just going about your regular, every day life when a radioactive spider bit you. The spider that bit you gave you amazing powers that you utilized to become the amazing, the one and only friendly neighbourhood Arachnid! Then, you were suddenly pulled into another dimension that was almost exactly like yours and discovered that you weren’t the only one of well you after all.

•You, alongside other spider-themed heroes, joined forces against Kingpin in order to return to your home dimensions. However, that wasn’t your last adventure with the multiverse. Your next encounter would occur a few months after your first misadventure. Having finished fighting the Green Goblin, you were ready to end the night there. Then, a portal similar to the one that brought you to Miles’ dimension opened up. Out came a tall, well-muscled Spider-Man and a Spider-Woman

•They introduced themselves as Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew and informed of the Spider society they’d formed. You were offered membership by them. Well, by Jessica. Miguel was staying silent. You don’t know why, but you felt as though he was watching you. He was, of course, he was right in front of you, but this felt eerie. Your senses were telling you something was wrong but Jessica was so nice and you really were excited and honoured to be given such an opportunity. So, you take it.

Romantic Route:

•Miguel stared at you intently. He’d been watching you for a while now, observing. You resemblance was uncanny— you looked exactly like his spouse. Not his spouse exactly, but the one the other had. You looked like the partner that Miguel had grown to love alongside his daughter. A variant of them. Although he was initially against you joining, it would be easier to watch you— look out for you if you joined the lobby.

•After your acceptance, Miguel tasked Jessica with guiding you around the lobby. He didn’t trust anyone else and he couldn’t bare to do it himself. He couldn’t handle himself around you. It wasn’t just your appearance that was uncanny, it was everything. You mannerisms, habits, likes, interests, everything. How Miguel yearned for you. Yearned to feel your touch, your kiss. Yearned for the happiness he once knew.

•But that would break the canon, wouldn’t it? The memories of his world, his family fading from existence because he broke the canon. He couldn’t let that happen again. So, he behaved coldly towards you. But as Miguel continued to watch you and interact with you, he started to doubt. You were a variant of his partner, but your dimension didn’t have a variant of Miguel O’Hara. Perhaps, he rationalized, this was canon. Your fates were meant to be intertwined. He needed you and you needed him. That was canon.

•Miguel strikes when you least expect. Spends weeks carefully planning. He stalks you, memorizes your routine to a point. He assigns you a mission, not overly-difficult but not easy. Something to tire you out. With your senses dulled and the weariness from the fight left you susceptible to his attack. Quickly, stealthily and by surprise, he subdued you. His sharp fangs biting into the tender skin of your neck, paralyzing you.

•When you come to, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Yet there are familiar objects lying around; trinkets and photos that had disappeared. Your spidey-senses were going off the rails and that’s when he came.

“Miguel?”

•He tells you you’re here for your safety and for the safety of your dimension. Swears you’re meant to be with him, that it’s canon. Warns you of the consequences if you break the canon. You stare at him, intaking his audacity. Then, you shriek at him. Call him out on his absolute bull. Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He ignores your screeching and leaves. Obviously, you’re still in shock. You’ll come around.

•Almost a month later, lo and behold, you still haven’t come around to being pliant with your captor. Miguel is a man of many things, but patience is not one. He is so very tired, having to deal with Lyla’s teasing and the other Spider’s bullshit. Is it too much to ask to come home to his loving spouse? Just like he used to.

•Apparently, it is. Seeing as you aren’t his spouse, but someone he locked up, you scream at him. Unholy screeches whenever you see him. Today, Miguel’s had enough. Large hands wrap around you and slam you against the headboard of the bed you’re chained too.

“Enough.” He hisses. “¡Mierda! I won’t hear it. ¿Me entienden? You stay here. If the safety of the multiverse won’t convince then maybe the safety of your aunt will.”

•The moment the vague threat passes over you freeze entirely. You’ve lost almost everyone, everyone but her. Carefully, you suck in air. Large tears brim at the edges of your eyes. as you look Miguel directly in the eyes. His eyes, dark and dangerous, bore back into yours.

“Please Miguel,” you whisper. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt her.”

•Miguel softens at your submission. However, he still doesn’t trust you. He pulls himself off you and stalks out, leaving you laying on the bed, dazed. From that day forewords, you become more compliant. You listen to Miguel and don’t fight him. Miguel knows that he can’t keep you locked away forever. People were asking questions. With your ‘good’ behaviour, you’ll be granted more privileges. More freedom, if that’s what you can call it. You’ll never truly be free, trapped under Miguel’s watchful eyes. But you’re able to go into the lobby again. To talk with people, even if you do so bearing Miguel’s marks. You know you can’t escape him, not when he could take away the little you had left, not when he would hunt you down through every universe. For now, you know you can’t escape Miguel’s grip.

Platonic Route:

•When Miguel saw you for the first time, he felt the world stop around him. It was as though there was nobody else but you and him. You, who was the only variant of his dead child that wasn’t truly his. He watched as you swung around, mocking villains and making clever quips. Miguel’s heart ached for you, for himself, for his dead daughter and child. As he watched you, memories of holding his child as they died because of him resurface. Once more, does Miguel feel the bitter sting of grief and loss.

•Oh, how Miguel desires to hold you, to cradle you close and never let go. But he can’t, he won’t. You’re not his child. You’re not the child he failed to protect. No, you’re a child he can protect. Thus, his decision to allow you to join the spider-society, if only to watch over you and protect you. Your family clearly isn’t doing a good job at it. Miguel spends more time than necessary looking after you. Not that he meant to, of course. You were just so vulnerable. You needed guidance. You may have been s superhero but you were also a child.

•Under Miguel’s guidance you thrive. He teaches you proper fighting techniques, improves your web-shooters and other tech you have and acts as the father figure you need. His teaching method is firm yet gentle. Miguel remains stern, however, everyone notices how soft he is with you. Life is good in the lobby. To be honest, sometimes you consider staying forever. Or more accurately, Miguel implies you should.

•Yes, he was originally not going to interfere. But it was you who made the decision to stay, so obviously that meant something. And Miguel wouldn’t lie, whenever you returned to your Earth to fulfill your duties as Arachnid, he could barely think he was so worried. Every villain encounter, every scrape and bruise is another chance to fail to protect his child. Miguel gets more desperate over time. Your time in the lobby is almost exclusively spent with him. Every mission is with him, every meal is with him, almost every moment is spent by Miguel’s side. And honestly? You’re starting to get s little sick of it.

•Not that you were complaining. You’re so grateful for the opportunities Miguel gave you, but he’s so overbearing. Maybe it’s normal, you rationalize, you’re family isn’t very close. Besides, you’ve seen Peter B. Parker with Mayday. Even Miguel isn’t that clingy. Your senses are blaring danger and to get away, but your yearning for love and affection suppress them. You continue to push down your instincts until you can’t. Until you decide to listen to your doubts— only to prove them wrong, of course. However, just your luck, your instincts are proven correct. You discover a goddamn tracker implanted in your arm.

•Finally, everything clicks. Everything Miguel does? Not normal! Just creepy, especially this. Thus, you decide to leave. You dig out your tracker and stitch the wound back up. You leave the tracker where you know Miguel will find it and leave, discarding your portal bracelet. You return to your Earth for the final time, intent on never leaving again.

•When Miguel returns to find your tracker and no trace of you, he goes ballistic. You left, he can’t protect you. You’ll get hurt, you’ll die. Miguel can’t risk losing you. He travels to your Earth in search of you. There, he tracks you down to find you losing badly against the Green Goblin. You’re clutch your ribs, bruised and bloody. The moment he sees you like this, Miguel enters a blazing fury. He attacks the Goblin viciously, pounding him until a sickening crunch is heard and the Goblin’s neck snaps. You collapse, from your injuries and the shock of witnessing Miguel kill the Goblin.

•Your chest seizes, hyperventilating. You can hear your heart beat racing as Miguel turns to you. He watches you panic and slowly paces towards you. You attempt to scoot away, but you can barely move. Miguel’s mask is off. You can see his eyes being filled with the same eerie softness as the day you met. Carefully, he leans down and large hands grasp onto you. You struggle as best you can, squirming despite the pain.

“¡Ay! Cariño.” He admonishes gently. “Be still, you’ll hurt yourself.”

•Regardless of his orders, you continue to squirm. Sighing, Miguel extended his fangs and bit down on your neck. Paralyzed, you fall limp in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvers you so to not hurt you. He cradles you to his chest as he inspects you over.

“We’ll get you checked out when we go to your new room. ¿Estàts bien?”

•Unable to do anything, you lay helpless in Miguel’s arms as he takes you to your new fancy prison cell— or room as he calls it. From there, you’ll be safe. Somewhere only Miguel knows, a place he can be certain he can protect you. Yes, you’ll stay locked away in your gilded cage, guarded by Miguel. Safe from the world, from every threat but him.

[solxamber]

Can i please request a reader/yuu x rollo where rollo is either visiting or like that popular hc comes to stay and live in ramshackle and over hears reader admitting they have a huge crush on him? Grimm is out here like human. Why. And reader is like he's respectful, he's curious about my world he's the only guy who was ever actually concerned about me, and rollo is like wow the bar is in HELL but I'll blow their mind fr.

Ty!!

Rollo Flamme x reader

Rollo my beloved!!! Thank you for the request <3

Rollo hadn’t planned to spy, but the creaky, haunted vibe of Ramshackle Dorm seemed to have a mind of its own, and before he knew it, he found himself standing outside the door, frozen in place by the sound of your voice.

“Grim, I’m telling you. He’s perfect.”

There was a pause. Grim’s voice cut through the quiet, pure disbelief oozing from his every word. “Henchman. Why. Why him?”

You sighed, like this was the fiftieth time you’d had this conversation, and honestly? It probably was. “He’s respectful, Grim. He’s curious about my world, he’s smart, and—wait for it—he’s the only guy here who has ever been actually concerned about me.”

Rollo blinked. Wait. Was this about him? Surely not—he, the paragon of discipline and order, the man who sought to rid the world of dangerous magic, couldn’t possibly have inspired such devotion. Could he?

Grim made an audible smack sound, probably facepalming in disbelief. “Respectful?! Henchhuman, he hates magic. He tried to murder everyone with flowers! That’s not romantic!”

You groaned. “Okay, but like… he’s intense, yeah, but have you seen the chaos magic causes around here? He’s got a point! And anyway, it’s kinda… hot?”

Grim let out the most exasperated sigh a fire cat can muster. “The bar is in hell, Henchhuman. I mean, the floor. It’s not even a bar anymore; it’s a speed bump. A pebble.”

“Look,” you huffed, “he clears it with room to spare! He listens to me, Grim! He doesn’t call me weird for being from another world. He’s… thoughtful. And he’s got a great voice. And! He didn’t try to blow me up, unlike some people here.”

Rollo’s eyebrows shot up. They really were talking about him. His mind swirled, caught somewhere between confusion, amusement, and, dare he say it, a spark of pride. You thought he was thoughtful? Respectful? Hot?

Meanwhile, Grim’s brain was clearly on the verge of short-circuiting. “Henchhuman, I can’t—look, what about Leona? At least he doesn’t wanna purge all magic. He just naps!”

You snorted. “Leona? He’s practically allergic to effort. At least Rollo has ambition. He cares about something.”

Rollo, leaning against the side of Ramshackle, ran a hand through his hair. Alright, this was too much. He needed to intervene before you said something even more embarrassing for both of you. He straightened up and knocked lightly on the door.

Inside, Grim screeched, “Oh great, you summoned him with your weird crush energy!”

You jumped, scrambling to look composed as you opened the door, revealing Rollo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face. “R-Rollo! What a… surprise! What are you doing here?”

Rollo blinked, his mind still reeling from everything he’d just overheard. “I… was in the area and thought I would stop by. To see how you were adjusting.”

Grim, squinting with all the suspicion of a small goblin, pointed an accusing paw at you. “Adjusting, my tail. They’re over here writing sonnets about how you’re, like, the best thing since sliced bread.”

Rollo’s lips twitched upward in a smug smirk as he glanced between you and Grim. “Is that so?”

You wanted to dissolve into the floor. “Grim is exaggerating.”

Grim was not having it. “Oh, am I? You said, and I quote, ‘he’s the only guy who’s ever cared about me.’”

Your face burned, and you were about two seconds away from chasing Grim into the wilderness. “Grim.”

Rollo, on the other hand, was practically glowing. “It seems I’ve left quite the impression.” He leaned in slightly, voice low and soft. “But I must say, I had no idea your opinion of me was so… glowing.”

You stared, at a total loss for words, while Grim loudly pretended to gag in the background.

Rollo, emboldened by the chaos (and maybe just a tiny bit flattered by how pathetically low your bar was), took a step closer, his tone growing more teasing. “The bar may be in hell, as your companion said, but I’ll be sure to exceed it. I promise you that.”

You blinked, brain short-circuiting under the intensity of his gaze. “Uh—well—thanks?”

Grim threw his paws in the air. “This is the worst. The actual worst.”

Rollo, amused by Grim’s melodramatics, turned his attention back to you. “If you think this is impressive, just wait. You’ll see what true concern looks like.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “What, like… flowers that won’t try to choke everyone?”

Rollo’s eyes glinted, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Exactly. Much more benign this time. Perhaps something to show how… thoughtful I can be.”

You could practically hear Grim’s soul leaving his body as he groaned, dragging a paw down his face. “This is the end. I’m leaving. I’ll be at Heartslabyul.”

As Grim shuffled out in defeat, Rollo gave you one last, knowing smile. “Until next time,” he said smoothly, turning to leave. “And perhaps, next time, you won’t need to admit your feelings through your… furry associate.”

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a solid five seconds, and when you came to, Grim was gone, Rollo was halfway down the path, and you were left with the overwhelming feeling that you’d just set yourself up for a whirlwind of chaos.

But to be honest? You were kind of excited about it.

Masterlist

[sandwitchstories]

Monster In the Middle

Hello, Hello! Here is the next installment in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Authors note: Okay… Look, I know when I started this whole Daddy Duty series I swore there would be no running story but lets face it… now that we named her (Mouse), we have to keep her. So what do you guys say to more adventures in Mouse's Mini-verse?

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Summary: Sukuna has long since grown accustomed to being woken out of his sleep by any number of things. However, this is a first. His position has been usurped, and by none other than his 2 year old daughter.

WC: 750+

CW: Reader is referred to as Mama but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, he thinks she got the sass from you but he's pretty damn sassy if you ask me...

Since the first time Sukuna allowed himself to sleep beside you, he had become accustomed to waking up in a state of confusion. It occurred even more often now that his daughter was an expert at escaping wherever she was put to sleep. (He was pretty sure they couldn't build a prison that would be able to keep her inside at this point. Handy when she was older, frustrating as a toddler.)

The first time he woke in confusion was that first morning he woke up to the weight and warmth of you in his arms. The second time was confusion at your kissing him all over his face because you said (a direct quote etched into his brain forever) that he looked “beautiful.” How could a seasoned and feared warrior with his unique body traits ever forget someone calling him beautiful and meaning it with true sincerity in their eyes and heart?

But not all wake ups were so sweet. He had woken up to you loudly doing things, seemingly just to get to him to wake up. (Many years later he knew it was unintentional. It was just that you were absolutely incapable of doing things quietly.) He had woken up to you shoving him away because of something he did in your dreams. He had woken up to you licking his nose, biting his arm, and many number of other things he couldn't remember now. But suffice it to say you kept his life interesting and your daughter followed in your footsteps.

But still, this was a first... Sukuna, the over 7 foot tall, 4 armed, 4 eyed menace to society, the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons, the strongest sorcerer in history and obviously the big damn spoon was currently displaced... usurped from his rightful position in his own damn bed.

Sukuna… had become the middle spoon.

You were spooned in his arms right where you were supposed to be. But Mouse had maneuvered herself during the night to currently be attached to the back of his neck and shoulders, drooling and snoring away, apparently making baby's first attempt at being the big spoon.

He carefully reached behind himself and removed the adorable goblin before setting her down in your arms. Impressed with himself for moving her without waking her, he settled back down to go back to sleep. But seconds later his revelry was shattered. 

Tiny hands pushed at his arm and then his chest, giving him a stubborn but barely conscious glare. “Move Papa.”

“What did you say?” He asked softly, determined to at least not wake you.

“Move Papa, please,” she repeated, shoving again at his chest.

“That wasn't what I meant, Mouse.” 

If Mouse was anything, she was determined. She clamored over you, carefully for a toddler, and used her feet too. She was on a mission and she was undeterred. 

Sukuna gave up, scooting back just a little and letting her worm her way between the two of you. He watched as she settled down and closed her eyes. Spoiled rotten. That is what she was. 

He gave a little chuckle and closed his eyes. Finally. He could get back to-

“Papa.” 

Are you fucking kidding me? “What?!”

“You're doing it wrong,” his little girl said in a sleepy whine.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He stared at the back of his daughter's head with amazement. She definitely had inherited your audacity. 

Her little hand reached back and fumbled around until she found his hand resting on your hip. She grabbed onto it and pulled at one of his large fingers with her tiny hand. He was about to say something when she rested his hand on your side so his arm was draped over her too.

“Like this, Papa.” She gave a big sigh as if the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders. “Love you, Papa…”

“And I you, little mouse,” he let out a soft chuckle. 

He rearranged his hands so one remained on your side, his large arm draped over you both, keeping the two of you close. His now free hand ran fingers gently through his daughter's pink hair that matched his own. He laid a gentle kiss to the back of her tiny head before closing his eyes.

While so far it seemed that he had only contributed his pink hair to the tiny menace now sawing logs like a 60 year old man, but he loved her just as fiercely as he loved you. His precious little chaos gremlin. Perfect in every way. Just like you.

[blkgirl-writing]

So. Technically... the Revivify spell only works for one minute after death.

Begging for a piece where Gale sees Tav go down in combat, everyone is fighting for their lives, meanwhile he's across the battlefield, fighting his hardest to get closer and feeling the minute they have to revive Tav slipping away...

Gale x Fem!reader

"Cold to the touch"

I have never finished a request so fast I'll be honest. This is so heartbreaking but absolutely amazing.

Tags and TWs: angst, a bit funny, some detailed graphic violence and blood, Gale in denial lowkey.

-

Sometimes the fights you picked should have been fights evaded

"Gale, go!" you screeched, seconds before the killing blow you your chest, blood rapidly pooling around your feet, too much blood, you whispered as you looked down with blurring vision, clutching at your skin, trying to stop the bleeding, even for a second. The last bit of your strength used to look back up at gale, and smile. your body thudded to the ground, completely and utterly lifeless.

Gale blinked. The wind knocked out of him like he was hit with a battering ram. He fractically looked around, who was close? no one. Astarion was high on the rooftop, Wyll and Karlach surrounded with no way out, everyone on the brink of death themselves. Lae'zel the furthest and least likely to help. That just left-

"Shadowheart? Shadowheart, HEAL HER!"

"I'm fresh out of spells-" Shadowheart yelled, looking back at your limp body. "I think...She's past anything I can do right now, anyway."

Gale's gaze went down to his own hands, the revive in his pocket, how many things were around him, and how much strength he really did have. Your body was getting cold, soul leaving body, time was of the essence.

"damn it" he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, concentrating on making sure he wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. If the thoughts of your beautiful life absent from the rest of his miserable one crept up, he'd be paralyzed, he simply could not dwell on the bleak future. "ok"

Gale forced himself forward, nearly slipping immediately and cursing himself. Running. if he wasn't out of all the magic he could muster he could simply misty step. Instead he was forced to make his way little by little while watching the last of life slip from you as the reality set in. He couldn't get to you in time. He needed to save himself and the others if there was any hope of even bringing your corpse to have a proper burial. He had to topple goblins and just stare feet away from you as your magic slipped permanently away from this world. Helpless, and tearful.

-

He wanted to cover you up. Clothes ripped open from your wounds, he didn't want you to feel exposed. Though, he knew you weren't feeling anything at all. But he had nothing. Once again failing himself and you when he felt you most needed it.

"There....there has to be something we can do" he held your freezing and damp hand in his own warm ones. Enemies blood pooled with your own,. the fight was won, but it truly felt wrong to say those words. He had been brushing your hair out of your eyes while the others gathered around. They'd been the furthest, so Gale had gotten precious moments alone. Muttering sentances he didn't finish. About how he had failed you. About what could have been. Maybe an I love you had fallen from his lips, but it didn't matter anymore, not if he could never hear the words he so wanted to hear back from you, from your own sweet voice.

"I don't know, I....I'm so sorry, Gale." Shadowheart softly touched gales back for a moment of comfort and caring that was so rare for her. that's how he knew it was real. "I know you cared."

I know you cared. He didn't know why those words were his breaking point, but he suddenly felt water dripping down his face. Silent tears rushing down his race. "I truly did."

"We will find a way, Gale. Have hope." Wyll crouched beside Gale on the ground. "I don't think we can do this without her."

"I'll bring her back. Somehow." Gale nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from you. Everyone stood around your corpse. Everyone with the same, grim look. Though, Wyll just looked...sad, sadness for Gales pain, and for the senseless loss of another.

Gale had to get you back to get you comfortable in camp. You couldn't stay here. Not for animals to ravage.

"I'll get her to camp for you, Gale. Don't ware yourself out" Karlach effortlessly hoisted your body over her shoulder. Gale gathered the items that dropped from your pockets on the ground, covered in grime and blood. But he simply wiped it away. He didn't want you to have to clean it off later. He'd worry about the red stains on his fingers and blotches on his clothes later. He just had to worry about getting you back, and never losing you again.

-

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Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray

[anxi-aashi]

SJCKEBCEJGNF I LOVE YOUR WRITING BABES! Honestly your pirate series and giving childe a bj was hot omg- Can I request like Husband! Childe x Wife! Reader? Like childe wants a another kid or smth even thought they have so many XD and just you know breeding reader or smth- Ajfjehfjrjff anyways you're amazing!!!!! love you :>>>> <33333

a/n: TYSM this took me absolutely way too long to finish BUT im officially on spring break now so hopefully I'll be able to write some more again!

cw: breeding (with intent), praise, fem!reader, fingering, kids (derogatory), not proofread, lmk if I forgot anything!

At last, your crotch goblins were asleep.

It felt like years had passed just trying to get them to settle down after dinner, much less convince them to get into bed; your youngest spent about fifteen minutes arguing with his dad in the bathroom before finally brushing his teeth.

And yet, as you and your husband wandered past the doorways of all five of your kids, watching them sleep without a care in the world, you felt a sort of contentness fill your chest knowing you’d probably have to do it all over again the next night.

While watching your third shift in her sleep, drooling, Childe joined you, resting his head atop yours and rubbing a palm on your arm soothingly. “Phew! That took forever,” he remarked in a whisper.

You snickered along with him and turned to meet his eyes. “You’re pooped, too? Thought you were all about the thrill of danger.”

He snorted softly. “Right, nothing more dangerous than five gremlins who napped a little too long after lunch.” His gaze slipped to your third behind you, now passed out flat on her stomach, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Let’s follow their lead tonight, hm?”

With that, he led you to the room you both shared. The two of you went about your nightly routines in comfortable silence, you brushing your teeth while Childe picked out something for the two of you to watch together before bed. Or at least, you thought he was.

Childe was not doing that. Instead, he watched you, his wife. Wife. It still hit him every now and then that you were his, no matter how long you two had been married. What did you see in him that made you say yes when he proposed? When he first asked you out? He’d probably never know.

He knew what he saw in you, though. And somewhere in that long list of qualities (that he had written on his phone), was your pussy.

The same pussy that birthed his five kids. The same one that got so wet every time he whispered something filthy in your ear. That hugged his dick so perfectly.

Fuck, he was hard. And you were none the wiser, simply rinsing the toothpaste from your mouth like normal. 

Childe’s eyes trailed down to your ass as you bent over the sink. Down your legs, up to your stomach covered with the fabric from your fitted tank top. He pictured it— remembered it— stretched out and swollen, round with his kid growing inside. You had looked so good pregnant. Every time. 

And suddenly, he really wanted to see you pregnant again. 

Hands snaked around your waist as you washed your face, drawing your attention to the mirror in front of you. “Hm, what’s up?” you asked his reflection.

Childe remained silent, opting to take his time feeling you up instead. His hands idly roamed around your stomach, grazing the sides of your breasts, leaving tingles of goosebumps in their wake, until finally landing on your hips and pulling you flush against him.

A squeak of surprise escaped you, a question close behind, but the motives behind his behavior became clear when you noticed his hard-on nestled snugly between your ass cheeks. “Ajax! You can’t wait five minutes for me to finish here?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he mused, ignoring your protest.

You bent over to rinse the soap from your face. “‘A while?’ Did you already forget how you practically jumped me the other day after the kids went to school?”

“I mean since we had one.”

You paused at his clarification, standing up straight to meet his eyes through the mirror. 

He had that look in his eye— one you had seen many times before. Five times, to be exact. Childe smoothed his hands over your hips, the pressure combined with the dull throbbing of his cock against your ass making you dizzy. “You always look so beautiful carrying my baby. Let me give you another one?” 

You forced yourself to think around the growing arousal simmering in your blood. “You want another baby or you just want to get me knocked up again? Pretty important difference, there.”

His grin was devious as one of his hands migrated to slide into your panties. “I think six is a much better number than five, don’t you think?” A finger grazed your slick folds. Childe’s grin only grew wider. “Kinda feels like you agree with me.”

You tilted your head to lean against his shoulder, relishing in the sensations of his fingers teasing your sex. “Please,” you breathed.

That was all he needed to hear. Ever the gentleman, your husband transported you swiftly to the bed, wasting no time pulling your sleep shorts and underwear down your legs while you rid yourself of your top. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair to pull his face to yours, lips meeting in a messy kiss. 

Childe ground his hips into yours, sending waves of heat pulsing through your limbs and encouraging more slick to seep from your cunt. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as impatience and need had you panting rather than meeting his lips. You were hot, so hot, desperate for any sort of attention that would soothe the steady ache building in your core, that when he finally dipped a finger into your drooling cunt, a loud moan ripped from your throat.

A hand slapped over your mouth, muffling any further sounds you made. Childe panted down at you, panic and lust etched into his face. “Shh, baby,” he whispered, “Don’t want to wake the little ones up, do we?”

You shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to keep fingering you.

“Good girl.” His finger slowly pulled out of you, only to sink back in up to the knuckle; again, again— another finger joined— again, again, until the steady pace he set had your pussy singing his praises in lewd squelches. 

Grateful as you were for the stimulation, it wasn’t enough. You brought up a hand on top of his that covered your mouth, lifting it up just enough to gasp, “Please, please, want you inside me, wan’ you to fill me up.”

The dark chuckle Childe let out was almost patronizing. “Aw, my fingers aren’t enough for you? So impatient tonight,” he cooed, curling his fingers up to tease your g-spot before pulling them out. 

“Don't worry, I’ll fill you up soon.”

And soon came faster than you expected. This time, you’re thankful that Childe’s hand was still so close to your mouth, otherwise the whine that you let out would’ve had you answering some very concerned questions from your kids. His cock sunk into you with ease and without warning, and you were suddenly reminded of how whole you felt when he gave you the piece you were missing. A shudder rippled through your body as he rolled his hips into yours, rutting with a need that you could tell was out of his control. 

But just as it was starting to feel good, he paused, moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to fold you into a mating press before you could complain at the loss of movement.

With your cunt bared open to him in the new position, the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with ease, grazing by the gummy spot hidden within your walls with every pass. Childe hissed in a breath when he felt you squeeze around him, hips stuttering into a steady pace that gave you no room to breathe. 

The room was getting hot. Or maybe that was you? Childe always did have the nasty habit of fucking you out of your head, and now that he had a purpose in mind, you had a feeling you were going to be walking a little funny the next day.

Every slam of his cock sent your knees knocking into the mattress beside your head. Every slap of his balls against your ass as he filled you to the hilt with every thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Every filthy thing your husband uttered without shame triggered another wave of slick to coat his cock, making it all the more easy for him to fuck you however he wanted. 

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant again,” he panted. “I hope it's a girl— your tits always look so— hah— so much bigger with a girl.” The bed was creaking. “We’re gonna get it right on the first try, ‘kay? Not wasting time with a negative test. ‘M just gonna have to fill you enough tonight so that it takes. And you—” A hand of his left your thigh to swipe vigorously over your swollen clit. Your back arched, mouth dropping open with a whine. “--- You, are gonna cum as many times as you want. Got it, sweetheart?”

“A-jax,” you whimpered. “I— gonna—”

“Ohh, already?” he crooned. “Go ahead, cum on my cock. Want you to feel good while I knock you up.”

Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, the coil in your stomach snapping. This time it was you who covered your mouth the block the gutteral moan that threatened to make itself heard. The walls of your pussy clamped down on Childe, a small squeak accompanying the juices that spurted around his dick as he worked you through your high. 

“Fuuuck, yes, just like that. So good, mmmh.” A bright flush glowed from under his pale skin, covering his face and sweat-soaked chest. His thumb stopped its assault on your clit to catch a dribble of your cum that slid down your ass. 

You were almost a little disappointed when he didn’t offer it to you for a taste, but the sight of him licking it clean was more than enough to make it up. And enough of a distraction from the steadily building overstimulation of Childe’s cock still, albeit slowly, rocking into you. 

A tear slid down your cheek, prompting Childe to lean over you to lick it up as well. He propped himself up by your head, his tongue dragged lightly across your cheekbone, then followed up with a multitude of kisses around your face. He finally reached your lips, rewarding you with a languid kiss, rimmed with the tang you recognized from your cum. 

Against your lips, Childe continued to mumble praises in between sloppy kisses, each sentence egging him on to chase his release. “You taste so good.” His warm breath graced your mouth as he spoke. He was too close, too warm, you were too warm, the heat radiating off the both of you so palpable you swear you could touch it. And it was his fault. “I wish you could see yourself right now. So fucking beautiful. Mother of my kids.” A hand of his drifted down to palm your tummy, pressing down until you could both feel his dick rearranging your guts beneath your skin. “Feel me here? That’s where I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you and I’ll just have to fuck it back in.”

You yelped as he buried his head into the crook of your neck to better focus on drilling his cock into your g-spot. “Ajax!”

“Fuck, yes, say my name. Say my name. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours, Ajax, it’s yours! ‘S your pussy— please cum, please, please,” you sobbed. 

“‘M almost there, almost— ” he cut himself off with a groan. His thrusts turned sloppy, steady pounding shifting to erratic jackhammering before his hips stuttered, and he pushed himself to the hilt again before spilling his load into you. 

You sighed in bliss, basking in the warmth settled in your belly. As Childe caught his breath, he picked his head up to look at you quizzically. 

“You didn’t cum again.”

You shook your head with a raspy laugh. “It's ok.”

Inside your cunt, you felt his cock twitch. He arched an eyebrow at you. “You’re right, it is. You’ll cum again soon anyways.” Childe slid out of you, making you whine at the loss before wrapping an arm around your waist and carrying you with him as he sat up, plopping you in his lap. 

“Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

In Time (Part 3 of "In My Sister's Place)

Based on this request: Hello, would you consider a mini sequel to In My Sister’s Place, where she arrives at the surprising Jareth, arriving sooner than he expected. Please and thank you

Here you are, lovely! My apologies for taking so long! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine.*

Part 1, Part 2

Fandom: Labyrinth

Warnings: Fluff, AU-ish.

Pairings/Characters: Jareth the Goblin King x fem!reader

Two years. That was how long had passed since you and Jareth had confessed your love for one another. You had chosen to remain in your world until Sarah and Toby were just a little older. Jareth, while upset, understood and agreed to wait for you for a little while longer. You didn't give him an actual timeline, telling him he would know when you were ready.

       Jareth, for his part, visited you as often as possible along with a few goblins. He could never stay too long as the Aboveground made his powers slightly weaker. He was needed in the Underground with his people. Jareth told you he brought them because they begged, but you were sure it was because he wanted you to get used to each other as you soon would be, in his words, their queen. Sometimes, when Jareth was feeling generous, the little goblins would visit on their own. That was how you got the idea to at least try to surprise Jareth. 

During a visit with the goblins and Hoggle, they told you that Jareth was planning a ball to celebrate some milestone or other(you’d forgotten what exactly). That was when you got your idea. You were going to the ball without Jareth knowing. Or at least that’s what you hoped to do. You weren’t sure how you could without using his magic, but you’d decided that it was time to finally join him in his realm. After all two years for you was probably a lifetime for the Goblin King and you knew he missed you as much as you missed him. 

As you prepared yourself for the night to come, memories of your time in the Labyrinth flooded your mind. You still got shivers whenever you thought about how Jareth had held you that day in the ballroom. A hundred years could pass and you probably would never forget it. Luckily, you would soon be in his arms every day.  

The night of the ball, a few of the younger goblins had managed to convince Jareth to let them visit you. When the magic took them back was when you would join them and, hopefully, surprise your love. Your stomach was in knots as you waited. Would Jareth be angry? Or would he welcome you with open arms? You were still unsure about the whole “being destined for a Fae” thing. Shaking off your insecurities, you took the hand of one of the goblins as they began fading from the room. 

When you looked around once more, you were in the castle you’d left behind so long ago with your mask held in your free hand. The goblins motioned for you to put the mask on before leading you to the ballroom. When you entered, you were easily able to spot Jareth. After all, he stood taller than most of the goblins and the few others there. Fae you assumed, did not share his unique personal style. 

As if your presence called to him, Jareth turned his head slightly. His gaze found yours and you swore his entire face lit up. He didn’t even offer an apology as he left his current conversation and made his way over to you. You giggled to yourself when he approached. “Do my eyes deceive me or has my vision truly been blessed tonight, my love?” 

“What was the point of wearing a mask?” you asked out loud. Jareth laughed. “Mask or no, no one can come close to your beauty. You are more radiant than any diamond.” You felt yourself flush at his words. “May I have this dance?” he asked, offering his hand. You took it and let him pull you close. A happy sigh escaped you. 

“I missed you,” you confessed. Jareth held you even closer. “And I you. Have you come to stay?” he asked, his voice full of hope. You smiled at him. “I have. If you still want me to.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “A thousand lifetimes could come and go and I will always wish for you to be by my side, my queen.”

Words faded while you and Jareth circled the floor of the ballroom, his steps confidently leading your not-always-graceful ones. Between dances, Jareth introduced you to the other Fae and some goblins you had not met. You had been worried the others of his kind wouldn’t like you, but they were surprisingly kind to you. All Fae took the meeting of mates very seriously. 

The ball lasted several hours, but despite your sore feet, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You felt like you were where you belonged. In Jareth’s arms. As the ball began winding down, sleep seeped into your bones. “Tired, precious?” Jareth whispered in your ear as you bid goodnight to the last of the guests. You shook your head as a yawn tried to force its way out of your mouth. 

“You need rest.” You shook your head again and clung to him. “You need not worry, Y/N. I will not go far and we have, after all, all the time in this world and the next to be together.” You didn’t argue and let Jareth lead you from the ballroom to the room you assumed would be yours. When he tried to leave, you gently grabbed his arm. “Stay?” He beamed at you and nodded. “Very well. If it means you will sleep.” He tapped your nose before you walked over to the bed. You didn’t care that you were still in your gown. You just wanted sleep and Jareth. 

Jareth did care, however, knowing that you would not be comfortable. So he helped you find something suitable to wear(turning away when you changed) and changed his own clothes before joining you in the bed. As you snuggled close to him you were happier than you’d ever been.

(a/n: I hope you like it and that it ties up the series in a nice little bow for you!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022

This Story Tags: @urlocalfanficwriter @bwila-bussy @evilunicorns4minions @princess-ofthe-pages @boofy1998 @ultimatreality

[chaoticbardlady99]

Twists and Turns (Astarion x F!Reader)

Synopsis: Astarion initially rejected you and you turn your attentions elsewhere- to his surprise.

By the time Astarion realizes his feelings for you- it’s too late. You and Gale are happy together and Astarion would never ruin that for you, but sometimes fate surprises us. Especially Astarion- who never thought he’d see Gale as a hero.

CW: Character death, angsty?, fluffy, crotch goblins (children)

Pairings: Gale Dekarios x F! reader and Astarion Acunin x F! reader- also some dadstarian

✨lightly edited✨

Author note: I was inspired by @thedomesticanthropologist post regarding an unconventionally attractive Tav. I didn’t really touch on it too much, but it is apart of the story to an extent. Please be kind because my writer’s anxiety has been so bad I almost deleted my blog entirely 🫣

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Photo belongs to @venenum-cadaverinus on Tumblr

By the time Astarion had fallen in love with you- it had already been too late.

Oh he flirted with you, called you beautiful when he believed you weren’t much to look at, and then you had come up to ask if he would want to go look at stars with you the night of the Tiefling party. Astarion couldn’t get himself to even pretend he wanted to indulge in you. He assumed you were only wanting to sleep with him and he was not about to sleep with you just because you asked. Astarion no longer has to do anything anyone asks of him.

“I have standards.”

Your face falls and the book of Astronomy in your hand nearly slips.

“Oh- I,” you clear your throat, “I’m sorry to have bothered you then.”

He had rolled his eyes when he came back from being with whatever Tiefling woman he had approached- you had been crying quietly in your tent.

Astarion found the whole thing unattractive and well, really he found you unattractive. Astarion has a preference for traditionally beautiful people and you would never be that. You would surely get over it eventually and if he’s lucky, you’ll just be an annoying kicked puppy who will do anything for him like you have been since he met you.

So, for whatever reason, Astarion assumed everything would go back to normal the next day and the two of you would fall back into the usual routine- he sits and reads while you eat breakfast in the mornings, he talks about whatever book he is reading, you ask him questions about himself, and then you go about your days separately until going through the same motions for dinner. Astarion fights next to you and you protect each other. You are smitten with Astarion and he has you wrapped around his pinkie finger like he wanted.

So imagine his surprise when you don’t come out for breakfast or dinner at all- at least not to sit with him. All of a sudden, Gale is with you all the time. He had seen the man come up to you while you were holding your book and he hugged you- the wizard even glared at Astarion while he was doing it.

Astarion upped his game after that, but nothing he said ever reached you anymore. He’d call you beautiful and he’d watch you visibly flinch. He asked you to go to bed with him and you told him no- you wanted to be with someone who thought you were special and beautiful. Astarion said he does think that. You got angry with him and told him to stop lying- go back to “having standards”. Your anger stung and he knew it was justified, but the little pieces of your trust he could get eventually blossomed into a friendship. Only, now he wanted more and Astarion was entirely infatuated with you.

He had decided to tell you how he felt one night before the descent into the Shadow Cursed Lands, but you were quickly swept away by Gale the moment Astarion tried to come talk to you.

Gale was dragging you off somewhere very specific and when Astarion let his nosiness get the best of him- it dawned on him that he had truly lost you 2 months ago when he had said what he said.

You peer through a telescope excitedly, telling Gale about all your favorite constellations and why. He shares his own knowledge with you and you are wide eyed, fascinated- leaning in to hear more. Gale’s own lips hover over yours and the two of you are smiling at each other widely. Astarion thinks he’s going to throw up when Gale kisses you- not because he’s disgusted, but because it occurred to him that he might have thrown away the only person who actually gave a shit about Astarion enough to love him and he broke your heart. Fitting that he is the one hurting now.

Maybe that’s really all you had wanted- to share something you love with Astarion. You wanted to feel like he gave a shit about you too and he said, “I have standards”!? What in the hells is wrong with him!?

The part of him- the less prideful part- wishes he had gotten to see you this way for him. Why did he spend so much time focusing on you knowing him? Why didn’t he take the time to see you this way? Know you this way when you wanted him.

Gale said something that made you laugh heartily as he brushed stray hair from your face, his hands gripping your hips, and you gasped when he kissed you again. The sound fills Astarion with warmth, but makes him feel sick at the same time. That should be him with you, not Gale.

You went from being plain, unattractive and uninteresting to the single most beautiful individual he has ever met. Astarion found himself hanging onto your words (even the angry ones) and yearning to be next to you.

You continued to do your dance with Gale while Astarion continued his own dance with you. When you threaten that horrible Drow on his behalf, Astarion has to accept it- he has well and truly fallen for you.

Astarion decided he would tell you when you got back from whatever excursion you were on with Gale. He had to at least try. Besides, what could Gale possibly show you in the Shadow Cursed Lands?

Only it had been too late- neither one of you came back for hours and when you did, the two of yours’ scents were mingled so closely together he could barely distinguish you from Gale. You began sleeping in the man’s tent, holding his hand during meals, exchanging kisses, etc.

Astarion, on the other hand, had taken the unofficial title of ‘best friend’. It had stung quite a bit, but he happily took whatever scraps you could give him. It was hardly scraps though- Astarion feels emotionally cared for, protected, and respected by you at all times. Besides, Astarion has a feeling that, if anything happened between you and Gale, there was a very good chance for Astarion to take over that space in your heart again.

The love test at the circus proved it- you had been more compatible with Astarion than Gale. Thankfully you had gone at separate times (Astarion and Gale have since become friendly enough so Astarion doesn’t have to worry about losing you). You had avoided Astarion’s eyes while Gale boasted about the Love Test results.

You had been the first one to wake up and attack his siblings when they had tried to kidnap him. Astarion had never seen you look that angry before in the entire time he has met you- you were even angrier than when Araj had pestered him.

You admitted to Astarion later that day that you hadn’t been sleeping well- you were worried about Cazador or his siblings showing up and that you wouldn’t get there in time. It had been haunting you since the minute you stepped foot in Rivington.

When he finally did face Cazador, it was with you at his side and when he finally killed the man- you didn’t deny Astarion the hug he begged you for telepathically. You held him up as he sank against you and you said soothing words- you told him how proud of him you were. You still reminded him everyday after when he expressed doubt.

Astarion was certain he would watch you grow old with Gale and have a family. So Astarion promised himself that he will love you dutifully regardless and protect you and your family like you have protected him. When you pass? He isn’t sure what he will do then, but he has eternity to be without you and Gods only knows long to be around you.

Until the Wizard of Waterdeep just had to throw him a curve ball the night before the battle against the Netherbrain.

Astarion was sitting by the roaring fireplace as he tried not to make it obvious to Gale that he’s silently pining for you. You were laughing and telling jokes with Karlach and Wyll- Shadowheart joining in and eventually Lae’zel. Your laughter is probably one of Astarion’s favorite sounds.

Only because he doesn’t know what you sound like moaning underneath him.

“You love her.”

Astarion’s train of thought broke and he gawked at the Wizard.

“I-um,” Astarion cleared his throat, “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Obviously I’m looking at…”

Actually now that he’s looked over there, none of them were believable enough for him to get out of this one.

“Yes- yes fine. I love her,” Astarion scowls, “you won, I love her and get to watch you live a whole life with her. Congratulations.”

“Astarion- I didn’t say that because I want to rub it in your face. I’m saying it because I have a favor to ask- for Tav’s sake.”

Astarion felt himself freeze. He was silently praying that Gale wasn’t going to tell him to stay away from you- to walk away and never come back after the events of tomorrow. It would be the thing that kills Astarion.

“Okay,” he says wearily, “I’m listening.”

“We all know it’s possible that some of us won’t be leaving this journey alive tomorrow.”

Is he suggesting you might die tomorrow? Astarion still stays right next to you during fights- no one even gets within an inch of you if he can help it.

“If it comes down to it and I need to use my orb,” Gale says solemnly, “I need you to take Tav and run- I don’t care if you need to drag her, cast sleep on her, anything as long as it’s painless.”

Astarion stared at the man blankly. He’s asking Astarion to drag you away as you watch your boyfriend sacrifice himself for the sake of the greater good of humanity.

“Why- why are you asking me? And not Karlach or-“

“Because I know you won’t tell her that I’m considering it as an option,” Gale said before adding, “and I am very aware that she loves you too. She’s going to need you if I die.”

“Need me?,” Astarion laughs in disbelief, “Gale, I broke her heart and I’m about to lose the only way I can walk in the sun tomorrow. It would be stupid of her to-“

“No, it would not,” Gale frowns, “she loves you, Astarion. Stop pushing her away.”

“You aren’t dead yet, Wizard,” Astarion said with an edge to his tone, “there is still a possibility that there is a Dekarios wedding in the foreseeable future.”

Gale smiled sadly at Astarion.

“That is the hope- is it not?” Gale got up to join you and the others, “you’ll remember that you deserve to be loved for her- won’t you?”

Astarion watched the man walk off like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bomb onto Astarion’s world. He watched as you smiled brightly at Gale and your hands intertwined with his.

But he also caught you looking over at him with a welcoming, pleading smile. Astarion smiles back and joins- hoping that he won’t be part of the reason that smile fades ever again.

*******************************

Gale looks at Astarion- they are losing. Tav is hurt, but still trying to sling spells and cantrips. Karlach and Wyll are becoming cornered quickly, Shadowheart and Lae’zel too. Even with all of the support they brought and it still wasn’t enough.

You bastard, Astarion telepathically says to Gale, you really are going to make me the bad guy, huh?

Ha!, Gale thinks sadly, you have it turned around. It has been a privilege to know you, Astarion. Take care of Tav for me.

Same to you, Gale- I promise she’ll be safe.

Gale announces to everyone they need to leave. You run towards Gale screaming for him to stop- that he doesn’t have to do this, but Astarion intercepts you.

“ASTARION- PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW,” you scream while slamming your fists into his back, struggling to make him release you, “PUT ME- GALE PLEASE- I LOVE YOU!”

Gale smiles at you with all the love in the world.

“I love you too, Tav. Always and forever.”

Gale casts a spell and like that- they are on the docks. You are screaming and throwing magic- desperate to get back to Gale as Astarion holds you close to his chest.

“I hate you!” You scream as you push Astarion weakly, “ I… I-“

You look at him pitifully and Astarion’s heart aches with yours. Astarion pulls you back towards him in a tight hug and holds you. You sob into his chest and hold him back with equal ferocity.

Astarion’s ability to comfort you only lasts about five minutes before the sun begins to burn him again and Karlach is dying- Wyll convinces her to go to Avernus with him. Astarion races to the shadows- certain that he is about to go into the darkness alone as he hides behind the crates.

He cradles his burning hand to his chest and hisses through the pain. Astarion doesn’t register the frantic footsteps approaching him.

“ASTARI- oh my Gods.”

He looks up at you in disbelief as you get down to your knees next to him and begin pulling out healing scrolls, potions, anything you can think of that might help.

You stay next to him until it’s time to move to a different set of shadows and you stay with him every moment afterwards.

You spend the next 6 months together starting your search for a Ring of the Sunwalker in the Underdark- successfully assassinating a very powerful Drow Priestess for it right before Wither’s party.

When you head back to Baldur’s gate together- Astarion sells all of Cazador’s shit and his castle. He invites you to live with him and you pick a house together.

Your emotions have been foreign and not easy for Astarion to handle over the last 6 months and even a year after moving in together, but he thinks about how crazy he would feel if you had also died that day and so he has weathered every storm you throw at him.

Astarion sits as you angrily rant about how unfair it was for him to make that decision without you. You wanted a choice, some kind of say, and you even occasionally just screamed at Astarion for preventing you from staying with him.

This continues even after the party that Wither’s throws. Tara adored you just as Gale had predicted and his holograph healed a piece of you, but now your grief is all consuming. You lay in bed for days on end and you stop eating or even coming out of your room. Scratch lays next to you dutifully until Astarion takes him out to use the restroom. They have to disguise the poor dog as a cat, but he doesn’t seem to mind very much.

Astarion lets you sit and do what you need to do, but after day 10, he finally needs to help you feel like a person again- in whatever way he can. So he runs you a bath and he helps you numbly walk towards it. It’s been about 30 minutes since he left you upstairs. He considered offering to help you, but he wasn’t sure if that would be crossing a line.

You walk downstairs moments later and quietly say his name. Astarion looks up at you and smiles- you took a bath.

“Well, well, look at you,” Astarion teases, “you sure clean up nicely.”

You laughed hoarsely at his joke and sat next to him. Astarion doesn’t move- he wants to pull you into his lap, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.

“Can- would you-,” you choke on the lump in your throat, “would you hold me, please?”

Astarion’s face softens as you begin to sniffle and your shoulder begins to shake with the sobs you are trying to hold back.

“Of course, Darling.”

You crawl into his lap and you lean the side of your head against his unbeating heart. Astarion just goes back to reading his book, enjoying the comfortable silence and how your body finally seems to have relaxed. You’d been so tense for the last two years- constantly on the verge of breaking in half, but he knows how resilient you are. He knows your strength and he knew you would get out of it eventually- even if only for a little while at a time.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice sings through the air and is like music to his ears. You sound like you again- tired and still a little melancholy- but you nonetheless.

“Well, Darling, I thought it might be worth learning about some of this astronomy nonsense a little over a year ago so we could talk about it when you felt better,” Astarion says, trying to say it as nonchalantly as possible, “I’ve come to really enjoy the topic.”

You beam at him and it’s the first time he’s seen a smile reach your eyes in what feels like eons. You quiz him, correct him, you tell him everything over the ‘stars’ and then some as you so horribly said. Astarion can’t help but find the moment to be so bittersweet.

He finally had the moment he wanted with you, but he didn’t think a single moment would cost a life.

************************************

“Elanora! Gale! Get back here you little-“

The twins giggle as they run from Astarion around the house. He understands what people mean by terrible twos now.

It’s been a little over 10 years since Gale died. In that time- Karlach had her engine fixed and five years ago, you found a Wish scroll for Astarion. Being a living breathing human again was a very difficult adjustment for the first two years. It’s been 3 years now and it’s not as difficult, but he did forget about the whole pregnancy thing.

It had been a massive shock when you fell pregnant a few months after you and Astarion had gotten married a little over two years ago. Astarion had been so focused on the proposal being perfect that it took longer for him to ask than he wanted.

You giving birth was probably the most terrifying experience of his life and you very well almost died, but by some miracle, you lived through the gruesome endeavor. He gives his thanks to Shadowheart, Isobel, and Dame Aylin. Astarion suspects Gale might have had a hand in it too because you had been out cold, but woke up with tears in your eyes and told Astarion that A. Gale says hello and B. how dare he think you’d just abandon two children with him like that. You are responsible “dammit!”

Astarion is so grateful you didn’t die giving birth to his children. He loves the little crotch goblins to death, but you are the only one they really listen to. You always tell him it’s because he gives in- Astarion argues “how could I not!? Have you seen them!? They are adorable!”

Scratch tried to help him initially after you left to go spend time with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel at Elfsong Tavern. The poor dog didn’t last much longer than Astarion- hiding under the bed from the monstrous toddlers that are definitely from his gene pool.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind saying n-“

“They are my children, Darling,” he said all too confidently, “I can handle time alone with my children!”

Evidently there is a difference between handling and surviving- Astarion would consider himself trying to survive. He should have taken Halsin’s offer to hang out- maybe the twins would listen to their Uncle more than him.

Astarion eventually caught them, bathed them, read them a book, and got them to bed. The minute Gale fell asleep around 11:30 pm was the same time you came home.

Astarion came down the stairs and you began to laugh as quietly as you could behind your hand. He leers at you playfully.

“Did you have fun, my Star?” You tease.

“Once I finally caught them- yes,” he says flatly.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.

“Let’s go to bed- then you can tell me all about it and I’ll tell you all the hot gossip Karlach has heard from Wyll about the upper class in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Will it be in the paper tomorrow?”

“Oh yes,” you grin widely, “ oh yes it will.”

Astarion loves when you come back from meeting with Karlach- he always knows what’s happening before it even happens. It means he gets to watch everyone else be scandalized which is usually 1,000 times more entertaining than the gossip itself. One time- the paper had been so explicit that the next door neighbor (an elderly woman) quite literally died of shock after reading about an affair the Magistrate had with the Duke. Apparently she was a hard core supporter of the wives and never anticipated such ugly men to cheat on their wives (you may have found him using a talk to the undead spell on the poor woman).

You fall asleep faster than you anticipated- at least that’s what Astarion thinks. The moment you lay your head on his chest is the same moment you slowly, softly begin to snore as he tells you about the evening. You chuckle when he says he is going to need help cleaning up the water in the bathroom tomorrow.

These are the nights that Astarion finds himself looking up to the heavens and smiling sadly- thanking Gale for his sacrifice, for giving Astarion a life he never thought he would ever have.

Most importantly, he thanks Gale for you. For letting go of what future he could have had with you. For not asking you to stay and die with him.

Gale Dekarios is the only reason Astarion Ancunin believes in heroes at all.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Can be read as a continuation to my previous work about Gale, but can also be read independently. In any case, this is mostly a filler short.

Today had been a tiring day, especially for their de-facto leader, Gale thinks. The situation at the goblin village could have turned for the worse had you not smooth talked your way through.

And yet you’ve gone back to dueling the fire with your eyes again, he notes. However unlike last time, he chooses to stay put in his own corner of the camp.

Given his last attempt at light but stimulating conversation, he’s mostly sure that he will never do such a thing ever again. Lest he wants to feel the less than comfortable stares of everyone awake when he returns to his tent.

Alone and unaccompanied.

Doesn’t mean that he can’t observe you from here though. While he should be reading up on a rather interesting book he picked up from today’s skirmish, the pages haven’t been graced with his eyes quite nearly as much as your form.

Naturally, he doesn’t realize this until something, or rather someone, catches his attention.

Astarion.

Usually not one to leave his own comfortable area of the camp, it was surprising to see him choose to settle in at a bedroll nearer the fire.

To approach you in such a manner. Almost as if you were familiar with another.

“Which couldn’t be since you would have only met one another after the crash,” he reasons.

Astarion makes a comment from his lax position on his bedroll. Opens the conversation with you the same way that he’s certain he did a few nights ago, and yet the response couldn’t be more different.

The action draws what looks to be an exasperated sigh from you, but Gale notices your eyes soften at the elf’s remark. You don’t turn to face him, but still respond while focusing on the camp’s light.

Astarion stands to be nearer to you, perhaps trying to convince you of something, as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Face, nearing yours. The thumb of his slung-over hand seemingly grazing the skin of your exposed collarbone, uncovered by the looser strings of your shirt.

Gale feels his jaw slacken as he watches this very scene unfold before him. The book, long forgotten as the strength in his arm wanes, almost dropping it. He feels his eyes bug out of his skull when he sees you place your hand on top the pale fellow’s in what he can only assume is an affectionate gesture.

He’ll admit, perhaps he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier in the days you reunited. With the way you were avoiding him, it seemed like you wanted him to forget you existed or pretend like you didn’t know each other.

But how could he?

How could he when you inspired him so?

How could he when your wit and creativity showed him more ways the weave could be practiced?

How could he when he knew that all your friends had always been more like Aatarion’s type, and that you’ve always seemed to avoid his?

He supposed he shouldn’t be be surprised then, if he claims to know you so well. It was inevitable that you would warm up to the elf so quickly. Alike in charm and nerve.

And if you still haven’t warmed up to the wizard in the years of study you shared, he doubts you ever will.

He watches how pleasing the pair of you look. With the sheer charisma you two radiated, it didn’t take much for anyone to assume you would have been coupled up or at the very least intimately engaged.

Ah, but where will all this conjecture get him? He’s still dealing with the loss of Mystra’s favor and it’s vicious consequences. What use would it be to watch like this?

He takes one last look at your joined hands before he sees you respond and heads in to his tent. Perhaps a bit of rest will help temper whatever wave of emotions it is that washes over him.

“Astarion.” You warn with your warmer hand atop his.

“Hm?”

You turn your head to look at him and you’re greeted by that self-aggrandizing smirk that always curls up on his face.

The sight makes you sigh. No answer to his earlier question will get you out of this.

Tricky bastard.

“Your fingers are cold.” He clicks his tongue at that, but removes himself from your form anyway. A catty, “you’re no fun” leaving his lips as he distances himself from you.

He smiles anyway and tilts his head to the side. Standing to rest all his weight on one leg, and waves you off with one hand.

“I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” You shakes your head at that and turn to leave.

“Good night Astarion.”

“Sweet dreams, dear mage.”

He’s convinced you enough to try.

[soullessduck13]

I think one of my favourite things to think about is the bad kids are all different races and can speak different languages, and how that affects them/the people around them, and maybe I just like thinking about them switching to a different language or not being able to fully speak one language when tired etc

Idk how it is for people who have grown up in one place but spoken a different language at home, at least not fully, but I do know what it’s like learning a different language at a young age and then befriending and talking to people who speak it as their native language.

Long post

Riz and Adaine are the most interesting to me, because I think Goblin is such a complex and different language compared to most others, it includes a lot of hissing, grunts, growls, ear movement and facial expressions and I think that it was the only language Riz knew until he started school, and he quickly picked up on common because Pok and Sklonda started speaking it with him too, I think it’s easier for goblin children to let out garbled noises than form full sentences and I don’t know if this makes sense but just hear me out.

Then obviously, Riz speaks more common than anything else, but during spring break Sophomore Year he hisses instead of telling someone to fuck off and it was much easier, basically meant the same thing to it’s just that no one understood, and then in Junior Year whenever he’s annoyed, stressed, etc etc he just hisses and growls and glares and I think the others tried to learn but it’s a complex language!! It’s very difficult to learn the difference between one hiss and another one.

ADAINE!! She has an accent (british) and had a hard time learning Common, not because it was hard to learn but because her family wouldn’t let her? She had tutors from Fallinel growing up and then around 8-9 she started learning common but didn’t get any real practice until around 11, the accent is noticeable when she talks but it’s not something anyone points out. She also loses her words a lot? Confuses how to word sentences exactly because it’s different in Elvish, mixes up different sayings, forgets words entirely too (me core). Sometime during Freshman Year she starts speaking exclusively Common with her family and now she only really speaks Elvish during combat and Aelwyn/sometimes Fig.

Fabian can’t speak Elvish, but he can understand it. Hallariel was most of time too drunk to properly teach him, but I imagine Cathilda tried and Bill would sometimes mention something to Hallariel in Elvish, it’s very like,, “Yeah I can understand all of it, but I can’t speak it fluently” and I think he wants to try after getting more connected to his mother’s side of the family.

Fig spoke Elvish growing up, but she started going to Daycare pretty early and speaks Common just as fluently as anyone else, but she slips into it whenever talking to her mom or Gilear. At least before the horns grew in, after that she stopped speaking Elvish as a form of rebellion, but she picked it back up in Sophomore year. I think she’s the least likely to confuse words and she often helps Adaine with words in Common whenever she loses them.

Gorgug cannot speak orcish, he can barely understand it. But he can speak Gnomish and it has surprised people more times than he can count. Again, he can’t fully speak Gnomish, mostly bc Digby and Wilma spoke Common with him growing up, but I think he can read it because a lot of their instructions and books are in Gnomish so he just learned how to recognise letters and words and string them together into sentences. Digby and Wilma stopped speaking Gnomish bc they cut the rest of their family off to protect Gorgug btw

Kristen can only speak Common and before going to Aguefort she was upset about it because she couldn’t preach to the people who could not understand, now she’s upset because she can’t properly gossip with her friends.

[oakdaddypreserveme]

halsin x briar

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, daddy kink

i did not edit this

summary: briar gets hurt and halsin helps her

minors dni

another day of going through the wretched shadow cursed lands. though they had been fighting the undead that haunted the area for days, briar reckoned that she would never get used to them.

the latest scrap had left her with a scratch and more than a few bruises. it hurt more than she let on when shadowheart first enquired about her condition. this place was dangerous and briar couldn’t afford to let her weakness slip in front of her party. as their leader, they needed to see her as a pillar of strength and briar knew that shadowheart was out of spells for the day, just as she herself was.

so when the glow of their camp’s fire could be seen in the distance, briar was more than overjoyed. there she knew gale was waiting with a meal, and astarion was waiting to give her comfort.

and halsin was waiting to tend to her wounds.

ever since she’d freed him from the goblin camp, she had to admit that there was an undeniable chemistry between them. on their journey he’d mentored her about being a druid, especially as she was fairly new to being one before the tadpole got stuck in her brain. oftentimes they would walk through the forest as he showed her the bounty of the oakfather’s gifts. they meditated together in the stillness of the evenings.

when he guided her hand to feel nature around her it seemed that it lingered. when he encouraged her to close her eyes and take in the forest, she felt his breath on her neck. it was enough to make her ache.

but he’d made it clear that the shadowcurse was his priority when they’d celebrated with the tieflings. they’d had plenty of moments since then but briar was certain he wouldn’t act.

so when she walked into halsin’s tent, bruised and battered and in pain, it melted away immediately when their gazes met. for a moment it was as though they weren’t in the shadow cursed lands anymore. for a moment, it was just the two of them.

“you’re hurt,” he said after a pause. he stood up and approached her with a worried eyes and eyebrows knitted in concern.

“a scratch is all,” briar said noncommittally. “shadowheart and i don’t have spells left. could you spare any?”

“of course,” he said. “but this looks like more than a mere scratch, briar. what happened out there?”

she chewed her lip. “we were ambushed on the way out of the gauntlet of shar. shadows and undead. i transformed into a bear to get them all once we got over our surprise. it won’t happen again.”

briar didn’t tell him that she barely had the energy to shift in the first place. that she was exhausted. but he took one look at her and it was like he knew.

“these lands are treacherous, little one. you don’t have to take on the burden of navigating them alone.”

“i don’t—”

he shook his head. “i understand that you need to be strong in front of the others. they rely on you; you are their light in a near hopeless darkness. but i am not them. you don’t have to be strong around me.”

briar laughed humourlessly. “you would say that.”

halsin looked at her steadily. “at the grove the other druids looked to me for strength in the same way a pride of lions looks to their own leader. but i had no one who could be strong for me when i needed it most. at least, not until you saved me from the goblins. so i ask this of you: let me repay the favour.”

it took a moment to realise just how close he was. his soft breaths fanned across her face. his l skin radiated warmth upon her own. briar sucked in a shaky breath as he grabbed her hand. he still had such an effect on her.

“i’m exhausted,” she admitted in a small voice. “i could barely transform into a bear when it counted, and we only just managed to stave off the undead. gods, halsin, what would have happened to everyone here if i’d made a mistake? to thaniel and oliver?”

he pulled her into a hug and she felt safe in his strong arms. “let it out.”

briar didn’t realise she was trembling until he steadied her. she processed her emotions as best she could as halsin comforted her. she truly didn’t realise that she had been hanging on by a thread this whole time and all it took for her to come crumbling was his kind reassurance.

after a moment halsin released briar and she found that she immediately missed the way his arms felt around her. when he gestured her to sit on his bedroll, she complied.

briar sat and he rummaged around his belongings before finding some bandages and ointment. then he looked at her.

“now, where does it hurt?”

briar gestured to her mid section and there the archdruid rested his hand atop her armour before he looked at her. she nodded her consent and he lifted the top to reveal her midsection.

“silvanus’s tears, briar. this…”

her dark, freckled skin was littered with bruises, while scratches made a tapestry of her. she hissed he placed his hand on one of her many lesions.

“this will hurt but a moment, little one,” he said.

she nodded and gasped as he cast lay on hands. it stung, but eventually the feeling melted away and was replaced with a cool warmth. she found herself relaxing under his touch as she closed her eyes allowing the spell to tingle through her body.

“good girl,” he said softly. “that’s it.”

briar moaned softly at the praise, forgetting herself, but the moment she heard it coming out of her mouth it clamped shut and her eyes whipped open.

halsin’s movements stilled at the sound and he looked at her.

“gods, halsin, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“i thought you were with astarion.”

the two of them spoke at the same time and briar felt herself getting warm.

“i am…” she started. “but we’ve discussed…my nature as a wood elf. he’s accepting of me, and gave me his blessing to be with you if it ever came to that.”

“how generous of him,” he said softly. “so accepting of our culture.”

“he’s full of surprises,” briar said fondly. “but you need to focus on the shadow curse—”

“i’ve done all i can on my end with thaniel and oliver reunited, thanks to you of course.”

briar felt herself warm at his words. “it was nothing.”

he leaned in. “finding art’s lute? keeping the shadows at bay while i entered the shadowfell? finding oliver and convincing him to stay? you sell yourself short, little one. i could not have done any of it without you.”

the praises shot through her.

“in truth, i’ve admired you the moment you saved me from the goblins,” halsin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i had my duty to liberate these lands from the curse, and i thought your bond with astarion would prevent anything from happening between us regardless. but i would be lying if i said i enjoyed our lessons together for more selfish reasons. any excuse i could have to touch you, to be near you…

“i’ve lived a long time, briar. i’ve taken many lovers. my heart does not stir lightly. but it does now.”

he placed his hand on her cheek and she leaned into the touch.

“i cannot express how much i’ve wanted you. if you would have me.”

his words were pure poetry, something the wood elf had no experience in. they flowed like water, sang like the melody of the forest. it was a wonder how she’d made it this far at all without getting charmed by the way he composed his words.

“i’m right here.” her voice was breathless as she responded and before she knew it, halsin’s lips were on hers.

briar moaned into the kiss as his hands trailed up her sides. the remnants of the spell tingled through her as he brought her closer to him, creating a delicious sensation wherever he touched.

his tongue prodded her lips and she welcomed him in, relishing the how he explored her crevice. she shivered at the sensation of him brushing her gums, which earned a smile from the archdruid.

the way he felt under her hands, so firm and warm and safe, awoke something in her. where with astarion she felt protective, with halsin she wanted nothing more than to let him have his way with her. to be whatever it was he wanted her to be. to let nature at its most primal take over.

briar bit halsin’s lip and he growled as he grabbed her hips and pulled them to his. his excitement became very apparent against her.

“poking the bear, are we?” he asked between kisses. his tone was almost feral and she relished the way he sounded. being the reason that the usually calm archdruid lost control filled her with some kind of pride. “you’re playing a dangerous game, little one.”

“from where i’m standing, it seems the bear is poking me,” she snarked and she felt him smile against her lips before he moved down to her neck. she moaned softly as he gently sucked an area that made her go wild.

afraid others would hear, briar muffled the sounds she was making with her hand. she heard halsin chuckle against her. “good girl. we wouldn’t want anyone else hearing us.”

she whimpered at his words and halsin pulled back. “it seems you enjoy when i call you that…or when i give you any sort of praise in general.”

she felt herself get warm under his gaze and couldn’t help but look away to avoid it. “i…i like it.”

a delectable smile graced halsin’s lips and he leaned into her neck to kiss it again. “you like being told how good you are for me?” he murmured against her skin. “to be told you’ve done well? to be told that you’re my good girl?”

“hells, halsin,” briar whispered. “i need you.”

he kissed her with more fervor, guiding her down so that she lying comfortably on her bedroll with his form enveloping her. halsin was large and everywhere, with his hands on her breasts, gently tugging at her nipples.

“the noises you make,” halsin whispered, his eyes glowing gold as his hands travelled lower. “gods, briar. i can’t wait to taste you on my tongue. to feel your thighs on my face like a vice. to have your walls clench around me as you cum. you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you under me, the amount of times i’ve rubbed my cock at the thought of you taking every inch of me. of marking you with my bites and having everyone at camp see them the next morning, of staking my claim—”

halsin stopped abruptly as his hands glided against her underwear . a shudder rocked through him as his eyes slid closed and he nuzzled her freckled neck.

“oak father, preserve me,” he moaned against her dark skin, his voice absolutely shattered. “you’re so wet, little one. i’ve barely touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” she responded. “you have such a way with words.”

he chuckled. “talking isn’t the only thing this mouth can do, you know.”

he moved lower, kissing every scratch and bruise on her torso like an act of worship. taking a breast into his mouth, he suckled it while the finger that was circling her drenched underwear teased her folds. briar gasped, her back arching as a soft moan escaped her lips before she watched him tear off her underwear with a growl.

“white panties on a body like yours should be considered sinful,” he muttered before tasting her on his fingers. he groaned when her taste coated his tongue and he took a deep breath as if to compose himself. “not even the sweetest honey can compare to your nectar, briar. i want to drown myself in your scent. to lose myself in you completely. i’m going to absolutely devour you.”

“is that a promise?” she asked and she gasped when he grazed her clit in response.

"you'll be the death of me," he groaned. he placed his forehead on hers and looked deep into her olive green eyes. “if that’s how you want it, we’ll need a safeword,” he murmured, tracing her jawline affectionately with his knuckles. “something you’d never say during sex.”

briar thought for a moment, noting that though his tone was soft, his intention was incredibly serious. this wasn't something that she should take lightly. “drider?”

halsin paused his movements and looked at her as he considered her suggestion before accepting it with a nod. “that’s good enough. say it out loud for me.”

“drider,” she repeated with more conviction and the older elf smiled and kissed her.

“good girl. if things get too much for you, just use that word, alright?”

“you underestimate my abilities, master halsin.”

he raised a cheeky eyebrow before plunging two of his fingers into her. “you’re going to be the death of me.”

briar opened her mouth to retort but just then halsin sent a delicious thrust of his fingers along her walls which caused her to gasp. “fuck.”

“that’s the idea,” he responded before setting a slow, teasing pace. “i'm going to taste you, but first i need to see you cum on my fingers. i need to know how you look like when i do this to you.”

though his fingers felt delicious, the pace was agonisingly slow. briar bit her lip and gasped as she closed her eyes, but her chin was grabbed suddenly which made her whip them open again.

"don't close your eyes," he said firmly. "i need to see you."

briar mewled but nodded her head, focusing on the sensation of his fingers dragging along her walls as she made eye contact with him. it felt divine, almost sinful to feel this good from such a simple movement.

though slow, the pressure began to build inside of her, trickling through her. she tried to form words between gasps around her swollen lips but was too drunk on the feeling to be able to be coherent.

"what is it, lover? use your words," he said before giving her a particularly hard thrust that made her see stars.

he knew what he was doing if the way he was smirking at her was of any indication.

"mmm...~ how m'i s'pose t'say anything if you tease me like this?" she asked between breaths, breasts heaving at another particularly hard thrust.

"hm?" he hummed. "i don't know what you mean."

"fucker," briar said without bite.

"i will be, in a moment," he promised before kissing her full lips again. "now, what was it you actually wanted to say, hm?"

she gasped again as he suckled on her neck once more and felt his teeth graze against her skin. "more."

he let out a soft, teasing breath and she knew he was chuckling. "you'll have to do better than that, briar."

"how do you mean?"

he looked her square in the eye, not for a moment pausing his ministrations. "i'm not in the business of giving in to those without manners. ask nicely."

his words cut through her. briar was never one to demean herself so easily, to give in so readily. but the way he had her in the palm of his hand, the way he got her teetering on the edge so easily...gods it did things to her. she found it easy to submit to him in that moment, to want to submit to him. to want to trust him with her whole being.

though, she didn't want him to know he won so quickly. like a child she let out a petulant hmph and said, "make me."

he paused his movements and regarded her steadily. there was a look in his gaze that was foreign to her. yes, it was still somewhat soft but there was a whisper of something darker lying underneath his eyes.

she shivered as he completely disengaged from her, leaving her cunt aching with emptiness as it tried desperately to squeeze the fingers that had left it. halsin grabbed her hands and pinned them above her, and she squirmed under his intense stare. a new pool of wetness leaked out of her as she saw his eyes flash gold.

"i'll let that slide for now because this is our first time together and you're injured," he said gently. "but if that's the kind of game you want to play i promise i can be a lot less accommodating."

his tone shot through her. she had no idea that she would enjoy being reprimanded like this. being the subject of his present ire only made her want to misbehave more.

"silvanus's breath," she muttered.

he shook his head with a smirk. "that's not the name you should be calling out when i'm having my way with you."

"oh?" she asked with her own smile. "what would you prefer? 'master halsin'?"

he cringed. "i'd prefer not."

briar smiled wickedly. "daddy?."

he froze and let out a deep breath. "you're playing with fire, little one."

"even forests get burned as nature takes it course."

halsin's grip on her hands tightened. "i was going to treat your body like an altar. i was going to taste you until you saw stars. i was going to worship you so thoroughly sune herself would be envious. but now..." he brought her leg to wrap around his hip as he slotted himself between her legs. briar felt his bulge nudge against her engorged clit and she moaned. "...i see you don't want that. at least, not tonight."

"and what do i want? enlighten me."

he growled lowly. "you want to be fucked. to be used as my plaything. to be so utterly wrecked that you forget your own name. did i get that right?" his voice had dropped an octave and she bit her lip at the promise.

"gods, yes."

"yes what?"

"yes, daddy."

"good girl."

he smiled and kissed her gently before look her in the eyes once more. they were soft, and inherently she knew he was asking if she wanted him to continue. "i'll be rough. what's your safeword?"

"drider."

he nodded before unbuckling his trousers and finally, finally, setting his glorious cock free. immediately briar's mouth watered, and halsin must have noticed her lick her lips because he laughed.

“i’ll use your mouth another time. perhaps even later tonight. but right now…” he teased her entrance with this tip. “i’m going to have my way with you, little one.”

briar struggled with her pinned arms.

“since you asked for more earlier, that’s what i’ll give you. however, because you’d forgotten your manners, you don’t get to cum until i say so. is that clear?”

“what? wait that’s not fair—”

“i didn’t ask if it was fair, i asked if i was clear,” he interrupted.

she genuinely didn’t know if she could do it, but she trusted halsin enough to know her limits so she nodded.

“the safeword is always an option,” he reminded gently. then more firmly he asked, “am i clear?”

“yes daddy.”

“good.”

slowly he began to sheathe his cock into her and the stretch burned but in the best way. she realised that he had been preparing her earlier, opening her up as much as he could and she was grateful.

“i’m halfway in,” he said gently and her eyes shot up. only halfway? gods she could die on his cock. it was better than dying by tadpole, that was for sure. what a way to go.

when he finally slotted himself into her fully, her legs trembled uncontrollably. she had to take a few long breaths as it grazed a sensitive part inside her that made her see stars. “ahhhh, halsin wait. if you move i think i’ll cum.”

“already?” he asked and when she nodded he swore under his breath. “oak father, preserve me.”

it took a moment for the intense feeling to subside and for her to nod the okay.

he began thrusting at a steady pace, slowly at first to get her used to his length. he reached down and flicked her clit which made her arch her back from how good it felt. his hips snapped into her which sent her soaring and she felt herself trembling again.

his forehead was laced with concentration as his eyebrows stitched together. sweat beaded all over his body as his muscles rippled.

briar struggled against his arm as all she wanted to do was touch him. she needed to feel his skin under her own but gods he was strong.

“halsin,” she said, closing her eyes. “please. need to touch you,”

once again he grabbed her chin and made her look at him. “what did i say, briar? as soon as you learn one rule you forget another one.”

“m sorry halsin it just feels so nice,” she said.

he tutted and increased his pace. “you learned your manners at least. as for touching me,” he rubbed her clit again, “if you can promise you can be a good girl for me, i’ll let you go.”

“yes, i promise to be good. please let me touch you.”

he loosened his grip and gave one of her hands a light kiss. “the way you beg could turn the most hardened of hearts.”

“thank you,” she said, at both the compliment and him allowing her to touch him.

their fingers interlocked as her other hand explored his torso. it was damp with sweat and rippled as he fucked into her.

the string in her was tightening once more as he carried on. the way he looked at her as she panted and gasped was almost with reverence as she fought to stave off the orgasm.

“i’m so close,” she warned.

he slowed immediately, taking his hand off her clit and leaned in to kiss her. “good girl. i didn’t even ask you to tell me.”

she whimpered into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting him move away from her. briar pulled his hair when he thrust deeply and he moaned, swearing under his breath when her nails dug into his back and scratched him as she arched into him.

emboldened, halsin lifted her hips so his thrusts could reach deeper inside and briar screamed at the sudden change in angle.

“how does it feel, briar?” he asked softly.

“you’re reaching all the deepest parts of me,” she managed. “it’s like i can’t get enough.”

“if you can still speak so coherently, maybe i’m not doing as thorough a job,” he said before picking up the pace again.

he was rough, and briar knew she would ache for days to come but she didn’t care. she craved him like sun craves the west.

he left bites and marks all over her body to pair with her earlier bruises. she sobbed from how good it all felt and from holding onto the impending orgasm with all her might.

“halsin please,” she begged, tears in her eyes.

“just a little longer. you’re taking me so well,” he said gently.

the juxtaposition between his tone of voice and the way he was fucking her could send anyone into a dizzy spell. briar cried and begged and pleaded but not once did she even consider using the safeword. it all felt too good and a part of her wanted to see how far halsin would take her.

finally, finally, “cum for me, briar . let go for me.”

she came the hardest she ever had in her life, sobbing and thanking him as she trembled. the feeling washed through her like a river of pleasure.

with a roar, halsin came inside her, pumping her with his seed and fucking it into her. it felt good, and she whimpered as he slowed until he stopped.

halsin kissed her forehead as his orgasm waned. briar shivered when he pulled out, once again feeling empty.

halsin was on her immediately, kissing her gently before grabbing some water and a towel for her. briar drank her fill while he wiped her and got ready to cast healing touch before she grabbed his hand.

“no, i like the pain,” she said softly.

halsin looked troubled. “i went harder in the end than i intended. please, let me—”

she shook her head. “safeword, remember? i trusted you not to hurt me.”

“even then—”

a stern look from briar quickly shut him up and he shook his head. “at least let me lie with you until morning.”

“i can manage that,” she teased.

[howtobecomeadragon]

can you imagine how annoyed will must have been? he's gay, in love with his best friend, filled with shame about who he is, but he loves mike, he loves mike with all his heart, and he knows somewhere deep down that he's good for him, that he can take care of mike and cheer him up when he's down, will can be there for him in all the ways that mike needs. because he loves him, because he wants to. they've been each other's best friends forever, since they knew how to make and have friends. they grew up together, and around each other's quirks and needs and insecurities. they know almost everything about each other. almost. except for the big secret. mike just doesn't know will's in love with him. but they know everything else about each other.

and then will's family has to adopt mike's girlfriend and will kind of hates her because she's dating the guy he loves, she's the reason mike is pulling away. but soon, with enough distance from mike, will figures she's not too bad. she's just some girl that's struggling a lot and will wants to help her, so he does. she's a weird sister now. she knocks on his door for help with homework sometimes, and she likes trying new foods, and sometimes she'll listen to music with him.

but between all those sister moments are moments of devastation and heartbreak sprinkled throughout the months. she gets letters from mike. joyce hands her a new letter and el's eyes widen and she smiles and runs to her room. and it feels like last summer again when she was stealing away every bit of mike then, too. mike's handwriting, the paper that he held in his hands, his words: all whisked away to el's bedroom, far away from will.

and will watches el, and wonders. if mike were to be with someone for the rest of his life, would it be her? is that who will would've guessed, after he got over that silly daydream that it would be him, that it could ever be him?

he pictured mike with someone who played d&d, although he doesn't know if girls play d&d. he pictured someone that would stay up late talking about wizards and goblins and elves with him. he pictured someone that would go to the arcade with them. like max, but not like max. someone that would build mike up, catch him when he was down on himself, build him back up, appreciate how much he cared for everyone.

when will did get a phone call from mike, he found himself wondering what he talked about with el. what they had in common that kept them so inseparable all these months, even as mike faded further and further from will. did el have that much more in common with mike? a couple could only talk about how much they like each other so much, right? that couldn't fill a letter all by itself.

he wondered and wondered, even as he imagined conversations with mike day after day, picturing mike as his chemistry lab partner and jokes they'd make in english class and mike's usual groans about the shitty cafeteria food. his head was so full of mike: ten years worth of what mike thought of this and how he would talk about that. he was so full of everything that made mike mike that will never ran out of things to say to him. in his head at least. things were weird on the phone. and mike was barely calling anyway.

so then mike is coming for spring break and will knows that he'll have to share that time with el, that likely she'd get most of that time, and he'd get barely any, judging by how things were last summer and all the letters she always got. but he has so much to talk to mike about: his painting, how much he missed him, how much he misses their friendship, a new fantasy book he read, a d&d campaign he thought up, his physics class, his cool new art teacher.

mike is there at the airport and will's chest is fluttering and mike looks so good and will has to swallow down all his thoughts and feelings, because it's too too much. mike hugs el, kisses el, and doesn't hug will. will feels kind of numb, like he's in shock by how mike is treating him, but maybe less surprised than he expected. it settles into him like an inevitability. he wasn't calling much, so why would he want a big hug?

el says it clear as day: this day is just for them. mike doesn't want to spend it with will too. because obviously will was wrong about what mike might want. he doesn't want a person who will play d&d, or talk about dwarves and dragons. el is exactly who mike wants, and will was just wrong.

but then. but then. will realizes as el talks: el's been lying. el isn't friends with stacy and angela. el doesn't go to rink o mania for parties. while they eat their breakfast burritos, she tells mike about her great math grade, even though will saw a math test sticking out of her backpack a few weeks ago with a failing grade on it. it's all lies.

and suddenly, will is annoyed. will wouldn't have lied to mike. mike hates lying. mike is still playing d&d. dustin told him so. el doesn't play d&d. mike talks about how he and el had a big fight, and will thinks about how they did too and how their fight wasn't one that they couldn't come back from. will watches as mike talks more badly about himself than he's ever done so before in the van, and wonders if he'll have to keep reassuring him for the rest of their lives, if el can't help him this much. because if el is lying, if they had a big fight, if mike is coming to him about these worries, then what do el and mike talk about?

he assumed that they talked a lot about liking each other, but they didn't even say "i love you" or "i missed you" at the airport. they don't talk about books or about hellfire club, which will heard all about from dustin and lucas. everything el said about school was lies. he wondered if mike knew about the night will found el crying about the failed math test, or about how will cheered her up or distracted her after getting bullied. what the hell did they talk about?

will tries to stop thinking about how he's the one who is perfect for mike, he really does. but it gets harder and harder to stop those thoughts the more time he spends around mike and el. he just doesn't get what they talk about, after the lying and the fights. he doesn't get it.

[galacticspaceguy]

May I ask for Peter B Parker and Miguel O'Hara with a platonic, teen, gender neutral or male reader who's wary of adults because their parents and most other adults in their life were horrible to them? It's okay if not <3

You were constantly on edge with these two.

One man grieving his recently lost child, and the other obsessed with his recently gained child.

Jess had a child on the way, but she got the memo that you wanted to be left alone.

You were not comfortable with the idea of parents, at least not at the moment.

It was an understatement to say your parents were the worst. They constantly fought. With you, themselves, the neighbors.

Being around them was like walking on eggshells, which made being Spider-Man half of a blessing. It gave you a reason to leave, to get away.

It didn’t help the fact that your parents hated Spider-Man, bashing the hero whenever they were being talked about on tv.

They either ignored you, or belittled you. Bad grades, not doing the dishes, being in peace? No, no, that wasn’t allowed.

You tried your hardest not to blame it on them. They were stressed with bills and work, leaving them agitated all day, everyday.

But they didn’t get that you have bad days to. School was a living hell, even if it was keeping you out of the house. The teachers were no help, labeling you as lazy, troubled, rude, etc etc. The other kids at school watched this happen, and believed it.

Parents of kids at school, neighbors and people you knew from taking your route to school and back, seemed wary or uninterested in you, given your parents were always causing other people problems.

But, there WAS this one guy.

His name was Ben.

Ben was old man who lived across from you in your apartment complex. You sat for his three pet cats once, and your friendship bloomed from there.

He was widowed and alone, so having you around brightened his day. You helped water his flowers, make tea, clean his apartment, all for the exchange for his company.

You had actually gotten bit by the radioactive spider while water some plants of his.

He helped you with homework, but mostly your mental health. He was a 100x better than both your parents combined.

But you couldn’t save him.

Green Goblin had destroyed your apartment complex, killing Ben.

Your home was destroyed.

-and your parents home was also destroyed.

You had been living within a program for recently homeless families that suffer from the villain attacks. Your parents were now miserable to live with.

Sometimes you would just run away for hours, not that they cared much, sometimes they didn’t even know or care that you were gone. They only seemed to care when a police officer had escorted you back.

But this time, you actually ran away.

You spent most of your days in the spider society, practically living there. Yeah, you kept tabs on your universe, but you really only spent around a few hours there.

You’re pretty sure Miguel was ‘almost’ getting concerned with how often you’re here. One time he found you sleeping on a cough way after your schedule. You were supposed to be in your own universe, but instead you made yourself at home.

You watched as Peter B. Parker and Miguel O’Hara talked. Peter was trying to get him to hold Mayday, and Miguel, like always, was refusing.

You observed from a distance. Peter was a good dad. The concept was just very strange to you.

Miguel noticed you, and used you as an opportunity to distract himself from Peter.

“Y/N, you’re off your schedule, you’re supposed to be in world-###, your world.” He said, turning to you. Great, another scolding. “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you this. Go home.”

He turned back to the dozens of screens.

“I would if I could.” You mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?” He called out, but you had already walked away. When you were out of the room, Miguel turned to Peter.

“If you are gonna be so enthusiastic about kids, go take care of that.” He pointed in your direction. “Go make sure Y/N is actually going to the going back to their universe.”

“Oh, I’m sure the kids fine-“

“Go.”

Peter threw his hands up. “Alright, alright, geese man, you need to lighten up, no wonder the kid doesn’t talk to you.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed.

-

You had in fact, no gone home. You were sitting on the edge of the giant skyscraper in world 2099. You sighed, leaning back and breathing in the fresh air.

This was so much better then your life back home.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a baby’s laughter.

“Hey, kid.” Peter strolled in. How did he find you secret hiding place? He looked around. “So this is where you do to get way from Miguel, nice.”

“How did you find me?” You said, a bit distraught.

“Oh, I just followed the scent of angsty, rebellious teenager.” He took a seat next to you. Mayday giggled as she looked over at you, holding her arms out.

Peter hands her to you, and you hesitantly take her.

“So, why don’t you wanna go home, kid?” He asked, leaned back. “Don’t get me wrong, Miguel’s place is alright, but being at homes a lot for comfortable.” He laid down, arms folding behind his head. “Been here for an hour and I already miss my bed and fridge.”

You tried coming up with some excuse, but every time you try to speak, nothing comes out. You just wanted to be left alone.

“Don’t you got, like, a bedtime, or something? Your parents are probably worried out of their minds about you.”

You let out a empty laugh. “Yeah, right.” Your grip tightened around Mayday’s little body as you held her close. Your cheeks burned. You didn’t mean t let that slip, but you can’t go back now. “They probably don’t even care I’m gone.”

Peter’s usual smug smile fell, and he sat back up. “What do you mean?”

You looked away.

“They don’t… like me… that much.”

-

“Lyla, did Y/N return home?”

“Nope.”

Miguel sighed, and mumbled a few words of frustration under his breath.

“They did leave their phone here though, so you should probably return that.” Lyla pointed out. She was correct, your phone was laying backside up on a nearby table.

Your phone was going off the hook, beeping with messages and missed calls.

Miguel groaned and picked your phone up.

A bunch of messages, calls and voicemails from your mother, with a few from your father.

Miguel’s brow furrowed as he saw he quickly the messages were coming in.

“Lyla, open this.” He held the phone out in her direction, and she did her work. Your phone unlocked.

Miguel was expecting messages from a pair of concerned parents, but no. He read through the most recent messages.

“Lyla, find Y/N. Now.”

-

“They don’t… like me… that much…”

The words were a pain to get out. You grimaced, refusing to look his way. Mayday, in all her baby wisdom, somehow knew something was wrong. Peter took her back into his arms.

“It’s better if I stay away. They tolerate me more when I’m not in their way…” You said, almost in a whisper.

He looked at you for a long moment.

“Kid…”

Suddenly, realization hit you.

“Where’s my phone!?” You looked around, hoping it was laying around.

“This phone?”

You turned around and Miguel was leaning against the wall, holding your phone up in one hand.

You webbed your phone out of his hand.

It was open, and on messages.

You throat suddenly hurt, and your eyes began to water.

“I need to get back.” You hurriedly got up, and were about to make your way back inside.

“You don’t have any place to stay.” Miguel said. Oh, great, so he read all of the messages, wonderful.

“I’ve got money.” You brushed him off.

“The money your parents claimed you stole to try and get you arrested?” Miguel countered, crossing his arms, silently daring you to walk away.

Peter looked at you with the concerned, pitiful expression you hate.

“Why do you care so much?” You choked out. “You want me out so badly, so I’m going.” You were on the verge of tears and it was so… embarrassing. “I’m not your problem anymore.” You breath hitched, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

Miguel placed two hands on your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You’re not a problem, kid.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Just let me go home.”

“You are home, kid.” Peter placed a hand on your back. “And it’s gonna be ok”

You close you eyes as Peter pulled you into a side hug. You could feel Miguel staring down at you. Through teary eyes, you watched as Miguel knelt down, taking your hand in his.

“You’re gonna be ok.”

[to-thelakes]

cake-related disaster

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; you wanted to celebrate frank's birthday properly but the world never really was on your side.

warnings; fluff, reader being a baking disaster, very brief mention of frank's trauma, frank being in love

notes; okay! hello this is day 6 of my fluffbruary fics! i wasn't sure whether i was actually going to get this up but it's here, it's out and she's just cute, this can be read as a part two to rainy day but it can also be read as a one-shot just fine! also, this one-shot nearly went in a more angsty way but since this is fluffbruary, i steered away from the angst (though the angst goblin is making an appearance, it wants me to write something heart-wrenching). it's a little shorter than my previous one but i'm starting to love this pairing with frank. i'm used to reader being a little more passive than the slightly more sarcastic and teasing version i've had in this fic and rainy day, please feel free to let me know if you like this kind of reader because i'm honestly loving the challenge. anyway! i'm done rambling, please enjoy <3

ao3

It was Frank’s birthday and when he had told you that he hadn’t celebrated for a long time, you knew that you had to do something for him. After everything he had been through with Maria and the kids, you couldn’t blame him but this was a new chapter in your lives and you wanted him to enjoy a day just for him again. Even if it was only for a day and only this year.

But nothing ever really seemed to go how you wanted. It was embarrassing and frustrating but at least your bad luck had brought Frank to you in a capacity that was more than friendship. You’d always love the rain because of what it brought to you. Today, however, your bad luck just pissed you off. A huff escaped your lips as you stared down at the cake. This was your second attempt and somehow it looked worse than the first.

The first had been dry and yet somehow too sticky after cooking for far too long. You had no idea how you managed it since you were usually an amazing baker. But of course, fucking today of all days your skills would fail you. The second cake looked better and you had even levelled it off, just to find that when you took a bite out of it, it tasted salty. There was no other taste, just salt and you had to spit it out into his bin.

“Are you fucking with me?” You said as you dipped your finger into the jar that you had used. When you tasted the white granules, it was fucking salt. Why the fuck had Frank put the salt in a jar? Your hands ran across your face and you took a deep breath. It was okay. One more time and it would be fine.

You dumped the other cake into the bin and returned to the counter. The icing had already been made hours ago at this point and despite it melting slightly, it looked fine. It was the only thing that had gone right all day. With a deep breath, you double and triple-checked everything as you followed the recipe again. It seemed to be going well and that was good.

But then you heard the door of the apartment close. Your head shot up and you turned back to see Frank standing in the entryway. He was taking his boots off. He knew that you were in his apartment, he had let you in that morning and you had spent the morning eating breakfast before he went off to work at the construction site. He knew you’d still be here.

But when you didn’t say anything to him, he looked up, meeting your shocked and dazed expression. His eyebrows knitted together.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asked softly. You stared at him and then your head twisted back to the half-mixed cake batter.

“Why are you home? I thought you weren’t back till later?” You responded, turning around fully and doing your best to hide the cake better. But the flour, sugar and old cake batter splattered across your shirt exposed what you were doing. Well, that and the rest of the baking ingredients on the counters but there was nothing you could do about that.

“Eh, he let me off early. Said I wasn’t needed,” Frank explained as he walked closer. A smile was cracking across his face as he took in your appearance, “What are you hidin’?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his tone. You looked up at him before you let your shoulders drop. There was no point in trying to change anything now.

“I was making you a birthday cake and I know you said you don’t celebrate so don’t start but I wanted to make you something and I fucked it up,” You explained. Frank tilted his head and his amused grin settled into a soft look. He looked at you, not entirely what to say to that confession, “I made two cakes before this one and they were awful. Why the fuck do you put salt in a jar? What is wrong with you?” You asked, his features making you a little more relaxed. The embarrassment that was creeping up your neck in the form of heat didn’t seem so overwhelming now.

“Y’know, I was gonna give you a kiss f’being so sweet but then ya ruined it,” Frank said as he stepped closer. You chuckled and looked up into his eyes. The adoration in them still scared you sometimes. It felt so new, so terrifying. You had been friends for so long and you thought that he’d never want to admit he loved you. Yet, he had and here you were.

“When you taste the finished product, you’ll want to give it to me,” You muttered in response. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

“Mhm, might just give it to ya anyway,” He responded. A grin began to spread across your face as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Go on then.” Frank leant down and captured your lips into a soft kiss. Your arms moved from resting against his chest to wrapping around his neck, standing up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you couldn’t help the giggle that you let out.

“You need a shower,” You muttered as you pulled away from the kiss. Frank’s eyes reopened and he looked down at you, baffled.

“So hard to please,” He said. You shrugged, letting your hands rest back against his chest.

“Why don’t you get a shower and then by the time you’re done, I’ll have a treat waiting,” You requested. Frank contemplated it for a moment, leaning forward and pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Then he nodded and let go of your waist.

“I’ll be waiting,” He said. You watched him saunter off to the bedroom, biting your lip to try and stop the smile from growing into a grin. You still felt like a teenager every single time he was around you. It was embarrassing but you loved it. You loved him and you wanted this birthday to be special. So, you turned back to the cake batter and continued, determined to get it right.

And you did. 

When you presented Frank with the finished product, he grinned like you had never seen before. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as you rambled about how long it took and that you wanted it to be a surprise. You also gave him the few presents that you had picked up for him and he seemed to just melt.

It had been a long time since he’d been loved so fiercely and he didn’t even know what to do with himself. And despite being paralysed by the love he felt towards you, he knew that he was going to make your next birthday the best one you’d ever have. 

<3

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

ive never understood why, when making the deal with griphook for the sword of gryffindor, harry had to lie about returning the sword later. like they KNOW griphook and goblins arent happy under voldemorts rule either which is why he offered to help, so why not just tell him hey, we need the sword to kill voldemort/its instrumental to his downfall, then you can have it back. like whether or not griphook believes it is another matter but why didnt they at least try instead of lying bruh

Because it was obvious Griphook would not have said yes to that bargain.

The bargain Harry makes, omitting the small detail where they'll get the sword back to Griphook eventually, is made in part so that Harry feels that he is not breaking his promise and merely taking advantage of a loophole in a well-meaning way. He'll get the sword to him eventually, right? Even if it's years later (or god forbid never because they never find all the Horcruxes) then it still counts, doesn't it?

However, it's very clearly explained that to Griphook/the goblins, no, it does not count. It's explained by Bill that goblins view their items as being leased to their owners for a lifetime but that wizards... kind of... never return these goods when the original patron dies. Gryffindor's sword is a thousand years overdue (and that's if you don't believe the part where Griphook notes it was stolen/a spoil of war that Gryffindor or someone else took for themselves). Griphook wants that sword yesterday and he made this quite clear to Harry. It's why it was the only item he was willing to bargain for at all.

And the thing about the goblins and Voldemort is yes, they think this guy is a lunatic and don't like him, but to them he's just one in a long line of wizards who's not too different from every other wizard they've had to deal with. Thinking that they'll want to get rid of Voldemort no matter what is actually the great folly of wizards/Harry when dealing with other creatures. Harry assumes Voldemort is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone because it's really bad for Muggle-borns and wizards, for goblins Voldemort's only slightly worse than normal bad in that he breaks people's legs. The goblins didn't have wands before Voldemort, and they don't have wands afterwards either.

Add onto this that they're a people used to being stabbed in the back by wizards all the time, with wizards justifying how great they are while doing the stabbing (see Ron's 'well, goblins don't teach us how to be blacksmiths either') and Harry's wriggling out of his agreement would look like the first step on a long road of "maybe I'll just keep the sword for myself". Griphook would have 0 guarantee that sword is ever coming to him and Harry... sensed this would not be a popular suggestion and would simply be rejected.

Basically, as Harry knew bringing this up would be rejected... he chose not to bring it up. It's not for Griphook's benefit but so that Harry can keep the sword and gain Griphook's help while not feeling like a shit person for going back on his word. It's solely for Harry's benefit, not Griphook's.