#i’m clutching my chest i’m weeping at the softness of it all

[quietlyblooms]

i have the urge to write kisses on top of everything else i’m dying to write and i need someone to tell me no

[ervotica]

i just saw someone talk about pornstar!patrick and my third eye opened up

shut up i’ll die actually

warnings; smut, 18+, fem!reader, pornstar!patrick, p in v sex, allusions to reader being eaten out, patrick is hot <3

a/n; i’m insane for this actually. pls send more pornstar!patrick asks i’ll beg for them 🥹

this is him <3

thinking of a self made pornstar!patrick, started off making solo videos of him jerking off in the dirty backseat of his car. utterly surprised when viewers couldn’t get enough of him and he earned enough money to make a living off of making porn of himself.

he starts inviting other men, women - anyone who shows interest in him and his videos - to shoot with him, and soon he has a plethora of people lining up for a chance to fuck him, even if it’s on camera.

he bypasses the entire queue when he catches wind of you, a soft little thing with a mean streak he so desperately wants to explore, and he’s running straight to your messages to set a date.

he pays for your transport and your stay — a five star hotel that is far more expensive than anywhere you’ve been in your entire life.

it doesn’t feel orchestrated when the camera starts filming. it doesn’t feel like an act as he works you up with his hot breath over your cunt and two thick fingers that sink into your weeping hole. it doesn’t feel fake when you bury your fingers into his hair and tug, relishing in the way he moans and ruts his hips into the plush bed beneath you.

and it certainly doesn’t feel fake when he makes you cum harder than you ever have before.

his viewers all envy you, want to be you, when he folds your legs to your chest and feeds you his cock inch by inch. it’s a tight fit, that’s for sure, but you’ve never felt more full, more stretched in your life, and you fucking love it.

the way the head of his cock, a visceral red, notches against your entrance as he sinks in in in, further than you thought possible until the weeping slit burrows against your cervix, the way you keen and clutch at his shoulders as he murmurs praises because you’re being so good, baby, just a little more now.

he’s barely one thrust in before you’re cumming around him with a shudder and a cry, and it’s stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, so easy the way he takes you apart because he’s already memorised your cunt, already knows how to fuck it.

and he’s hooking his arms beneath the dip of your spine, dragging you up to meet his hot mouth in a greedy kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire and passion, and that paired with the way he’s fucking you - the filthy roll of his hips that never slows, never stops - is enough to have you cumming round him again.

he fucks like he’s in love with you and he hates you all at once, spears you open on his cock and keeps you spread out beneath him, teases and taunts until you growl with frustration and claw at him. it makes him laugh, a low, gravelly sound against your lips as he concedes and pistons his hips into you with more fervour than before.

once you’re well and truly fucked out, you crawl between his legs and wrap your mouth around him, and he’s sure he meets god.

and then the camera comes off, and a switch flips in him as he watches you laying on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on your face.

patrick zweig might just be in love.

the video skyrockets in views and profits, climbing straight to the most popular he’s ever made. viewers beg him to keep you as a permanent fixture within his channel. and, well, who would he be if he didn’t give the people what they want?

-

challengers taglist; @diorrfairy @igotmajordaddyissues @xotwod-jade @imbabycowboy @cloudnitee @hobocatton

[sturnslcver]

enemy! chris where he absolutely breaks down reader to where she has no motivation to do anything anymore and he notices n begins to feel bad

ੈ✩‧₊˚ expiated favours ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, fluff, blurb, crying

you shot chris a fond smile, proud of the meal you’d just prepared for him. you gently set it on the edge of his desk. he didn’t bother looking away from the screen occupying him as you cracked open a can of pepsi. “here” you muttered quietly, scooting it toward him. you lingered beside him for a split second hoping he might acknowledge or thank you. he didn’t. you gently shut the door on your way out to the living room.

almost immediately after you’d plopped down on the couch, chris had emerged from his room. “you didn’t put enough ice” he grumbled. “sorry” you shrugged. he slammed his glass against the counter. “so are you gonna get the ice?” you glanced at him and exhaled a long breath before lifting yourself back to your feet to fulfill his request. he took a long sip, smacking his lips together. “better” he replied, heading back towards his room. he paused before continuing. “oh, start my clothes in the washer too. i forgot.” you scooped up the laundry basket and followed behind him to his room, dragging all the clothes from the floor and tossing them up into the basket.

your feet shuffled across the hallway back to the laundry closet. you were separating the color’s and whites when nick surfaced from his room. you delicately grasped his arm, gazing up at him. “can you finish this for me? i need to lay down.” nick obliged, of course seeing the black circles under your eye. you clawed at your hair, eager to finally get into some comfy clothes and hopefully get some sleep.

you were settled on your side, in bed facing the wall. just as you were nodding off, your door loudly unlatched. “did you finish my clothes?” you didn’t retort, your back still facing him. “you used a different detergent this time. i don’t like it.” he held up his shirt, inhaling the latest scent. “are you even listening?” he questioned. you reached for the nearest pillow, placing it directly onto your head. “i asked nick to finish the load.” he squinted his eyes as if it might help the noise coming from the pillow sound any less muffled.

you shot up and turned to face chris. “you know i don’t have to do these things for you. i just do it because i want too. i like doing things for you and you don’t show any appreciation or gratitude towards anything i do for you.” you voice gradually softened as you felt a lump forming in your throat. you hid your face in your hands and began to weep. “i’m tired, chris. i’m trying my best and it’s never enough.” you felt the bed sink in a little, peeking through your fingers. chris had his knee eased into the edge of the bed right beside you. he brought his hands up, drawing yours away from your face. he placed his hands lightly against your cheeks and used his thumbs to gingerly rub away your tears. he surveyed your glassy eyes for a moment, placing one of his hands on the back of your head and pulling you against his chest faintly. he clutched you into a warm embrace.

hesitating momentarily, you brought your arms around his back, rubbing up and down repeatedly, reciprocating his affection. your fingers trickled along chris’ spine. his chin lazed on top of your head. “don’t cry. i’m sorry. i do appreciate you and everything you do for me and it’s my fault for not making it more known to you.”he placed both of his hands to the side of your head and planted a soft kiss to your forehead. “how about you let me finally appreciate you, hm? ” “how?” you chuckled eagerly.

chris raised your legs back onto the bed and signaled you to rest your back up against the headboard. he climbed up onto the bed and slid toward the bottom, placing your feet in his lap. he reverently placed a warm kiss to your ankle and began to massage your foot. “feels nice” you beam up at him. he hummed contently. the both of you exchanged a playful glance and laughed. “just tell me when to stop” chris cooed.

— a/n: i wasn’t sure how to go about the whole enemy thing because i couldn’t come up with a creative enemy backstory or a decent reason as to why they would be “enemies” also this is pretty short but i hope u still enjoy!! pls keep submitting things guys :)

[lexsssu]

Half (Neuvillette)

TAGS: Neuvillette/Dragoness!Reader, smut, oneshot, drabble, heats, mating, knotting, breeding Ao3 ver.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to stay here, Mr. Neuvillette? I wouldn’t want to impose, especially when you’ve already done so much for me…”

He shook his head, not a single hair falling out of place no matter how much he moved. Despite having stayed in Neuvillette’s home for several days already and spending every moment with him once his duties were done for the day, you never got used to how he always seemed so…dignified.

He practically embodied the calm, deep waters of Fontaine.

Oh, if only you knew the utterly depraved thoughts he had of you from the moment he found you washed up on shore. 

How his blood roared with the need to have you pressed down on the ground as he slid both his aching cocks into your dripping hole, the ridges along his length scraping against your gooey insides before filling you up with his virile seed. 

How the image of you glowing with motherhood, with the proof of his claim was perpetually stuck at the back of his head. It taunted him to make it a reality lest you be snatched up by some other unworthy male.

“You are a most welcome guest in my abode. I assure you that there will never be a time when you’ll become a burden to me,” his hand swiftly clutched yours, lifting it and pressing his lips to the back of it.

You swear you could hear your own heart beating thanks to Neuvillette’s burning gaze alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“I-I don’t know why I’m feeling this way…! Everything’s…too hot and i-itchy right now…!”

Blood pounded in his ears and his eyes dilated, nostrils flaring as the scent of your heat flooded all of his senses. His eyes feasted on the sight of you writhing and clawing off your clothes, revealing your supple skin bit by bit to his ravenous gaze.

If Neuvillette was truly the gentleman and paragon of justice that he tried to be every single, then he might have already left and called Sigewinne to brew a calming concoction for you.

But he always knew deep down that he was still a slave to his own baser instincts. An enlightened beast will always be a beast, no matter how many times he hid this fact…even from himself.

“Shhhh…No need for any more tears, ma moitié.”

He loomed over your form as he reached your bed in what seemed to be the blink of an eye, gloved hand cupping your chin as one long finger wiped a stray tear away.

“I am here.”

Perhaps it’s your addled senses or your own hidden affections for the Iudex that make you lean into his touch even as heat wracked your entire body.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When he ruts his hips into you and buries the entire length of one of his cocks inside your weeping cunt, your hazy world becomes clear as you feel his tip probing at the entrance to your womb.

The feeling of Neuvillette’s second cock slapping against the softness of your belly with each thrust makes you feel sorry for the unattended organ. 

Despite burying your face against the feather-soft pillows while he mounted you from behind, you manage to turn your head enough to be able to voice out your thoughts.

You almost weep when he pulls out and his movements cease, wondering if he found you too lascivious for his tastes.

But when you feel two tips pressing against your stretched pussy, you all but sigh in relief as he sinks himself home. Despite the initial burn as you’re stretched to almost your limit, being stuffed so full made you forget about any pain you might’ve initially felt.

As the base of his cocks inflate and lock him inside of you, all the heat that ravaged you earlier is replaced with contentment as his seed pumps straight into your womb with no chance of escape. 

You allow yourself to fall asleep against his chest when he flips you both over to lay you on top of him. Your consciousness fades as you’re lulled by his heartbeat.

[eternal-ascensionism]

@circle-with-me you have inspired me w/ the post abt Noah’s room decor I’m weeping in italics

—!—

Bestie!Noah is def the type to get a lil weak in the knees when he sees his pretty goth bff and he stumbles over a word or two whenever they ask how he’s doing and he feels like he’s blushing when they give him a hug as a greeting or a farewell and don’t even get me started on if they were to give him little trinkets like crystals or smth he’d call them his little crow ANYWAYYYYYS

So like, imagine begging him to let you decorate his space for Halloween/his birthday and he relents (read: you asked one time and he immediately was on board cause he’s kinda soft for u) so you show up at his door with multiple black plastic bags in hand and a big grin. He’s looking at you like you’re insane because ���why on earth would you need that much shit to decorate one room???” And you’re like hush mister I am scheming 😡 So he heads to the kitchen to make you guys dinner while you work your magic and he returns with two plates and a look of utter disbelief

You are stood on the bed, balancing on one foot as you loop a set of skull-shaped string lights onto a small hook you’d attached near the top of the wall. Similar hooks were placed all around the perimeter of the ceiling. Additionally, you’d placed removable spooky-themed wall clingers around various spots in the room. A delicate glass figurine of a black cat wearing a witch’s hat sat next to his PC. In place of his usual white cobwebs, you’d opted for some purple webbing with plastic spiders tangled in between. You even picked up some creepy portraits and black candles.

“Don’t be mad, they’re command strips. I can peel em off when you want me to!” You pretend to dust off your hands and stand back to admire your handiwork. Noah just sets down the plates and makes a beeline to where you’re at, scooping you off the bed as you squeal in surprise. “What was that for?” You ask in between giggles

“Can’t believe I let you turn my room into the back of a Spirit Halloween for my birthday.” He rolls his eyes as you feign offense, a loud gasp ringing out while you clutch your chest.

“I’ll have you know Spirit could NEVER think up such a creative and original display.”

“You literally taped up some cobwebs and string lights, I don’t know how original that would-“

You cut him off with a scoff. “Want me to take it down?”

“No!” He replies, a bit too fast. “To do that you’d have to escape me. I’m not done with you. First, we will be having a word about that vial of glitter I see in that bag.”

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

May I please request Baldwin comforting y/n after a bad dream?

♧ All Is Well - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for this cute request. I really enjoyed writing this one! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven not the real historical figure. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Nightmares

The night air was cold when he died. The castle was silent, aside for the soft weeping of the queen of Jerusalem.

She refused to leave his bedside. He had died in her arms. Her beloved Baldwin. The agony that tore through her heart was sharp and ongoing.

She refused to speak with anyone, and whoever dared approach her was screamed at to leave. The awful disease had taken him from her at last.

Y/n knew it would happen one day, but she never believed it would happen so suddenly.

Just the day prior they had spoken of trying for a child since his condition had improved so greatly over the last few weeks. And now he was gone. She held onto him for as long as she could, desperately praying that it was not the end. That somehow, somehow, he was still alive and would return to her. She cried harder and harder.

Then it happened.

----------------

The young queen's eyes snapped open and she shot up, desperately gasping for air.

Tears stung her cheeks and she clutched her chest as she attempted to regain some sense of composure. It was still dark, but the room was illuminated by the dull glow of the moonlight.

Remembering what had happened, she turned to the side, fearing the worst. But she sighed with relief when she saw Baldwin laying beside her, sprawled out and fast asleep. Her heart rate relaxed at the sight of him, snoring quietly and completely fine.

But tears soon stung in her eyes once more at the realization that one day, perhaps soon, her nightmare would become reality and her precious husband would be gone forever.

This thought was more than she could bear. She felt a burning sensation in the back of her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She threw the heavy bed covers off her sweating body and sprinted to the bathroom. 

--------------

Baldwin rolled over in his sleep, reaching out an arm to pull his wife closer. He groaned softly and opened his eyes when he discovered her side of the bed, cold and empty.

“Y/n?” he said into the darkness. Sitting up, he looked around the room only to find she was nowhere to be seen. Groggily, he turned and stood up to go and look for her.

His first thought was that she had left to retrieve a glass of water or use the bathroom, but her side of the bed was stone cold. As if she had been gone for a long time. This realization caused him to grow slightly worried. Perhaps she was hurt?

Baldwin put on a robe to cover himself and started down the long hallway, but stopped quickly when he heard a faint sobbing coming from behind the bathroom door.

“Y/n?” he asked quietly, tapping on the door with his one good hand. Worry turned to panic when she answered with a broken “yes?”

“Are you alright my love? What is going on? Are you hurt?-” a million questions flooded his mind.

“I’m alright darling. Just return to bed, i’ll be alright” y/n replied, attempting to sound calm.

“No sweetheart, I'm staying right here. Please tell me what is going on?” 

He heard her sigh faintly before the door opened. The queen's eyes were red and puffy, tears stained her cheeks. Baldwin immediately took her in his arms, wrapping her in a firm embrace.

“Please, tell me what happened? Are you hurt?” he asked urgently, pulling away to cup her face in his hands gently. “No my darling, I am not hurt. I just had a bad dream, okay? That is all” she took his hands in hers and gave him a weak smile.

“Oh no, well what was it about?” he pressed.

Y/n thought for a moment before answering. “It was terrible” she felt tears sting her eyes again. “You were dead, I watched you die. It was more than I could bare” tears began to run down her cheeks again.

Without a word, Baldwin took her in his arms again as she cried into his chest. “I’m right here my sweet love, I am not going anywhere anytime soon. Remember? We discussed with the physicians and they say my condition is improving! Oh please wake me next time something like this happens, I can't bear have you crying by yourself like this my love, you promise?” he rambled to her quietly about how much he loved her, she could have sworn that she felt a few tears of his own fall onto her shoulder.

“Please promise you will wake me if something like this happens again?” he said, looking into her eyes. “I will, I promise” she nodded, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. 

----------------

The two returned to bed and Baldwin did not let go of his queen the entire time, as if he wanted to remind her that he would not leave her.

Once back under the covers, the young king pulled y/n close and rested his head against her soft chest. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking up at her.

Y/n smiled at his concern. “Yes I am alright now. Thank you, my love” she replied, kissing his forehead. Baldwin returned the smile, cuddling against her chest. 

After a little while, Baldwin had fallen asleep again, leaving the queen to her thoughts once more.

He was right, the physicians had told them that he was making great improvements in his  health.

Some sensation had returned to his hands and feet, and a few of the many sores covering his body had begun to heal. Maybe this was a sign from God, that he was destined to live and have a family of his own.

Y/n smiled at her sleeping husband and closed her eyes once more. Allowing this thought comfort her, she fell back into sleep with the knowledge that her husband was safe and peacefully sleeping in her arms. All was well.

[carmillascrusade]

Sleepless nights | Alex Blake x F!Reader

Summary: Alex comforts the reader after a nightmare. (Requested)

Word count: 460

A/N: First time writing nightmare related things. Please be aware of the fire/burning nature of the nightmare. TW:Graphic imagery? Please excuse how short my pieces have been at the moment. I’m trying to get back into the flow. This hasn’t been proofread as I wrote it in a mind numbingly boring lecture from Oxford Uni.

You were hot. Unbearably so. A searing pain buzzed throughout your body, a dull throb pulsating from the gaping wound in your side. A short cry escaped you; the low, keening sound of cry alike to that of a wounded animal calling for help.

The fire blazes around you. Hues of gold, flickers of scarlet danced enticingly, wrapping around your legs, licking at your clothes and setting them ablaze. Your legs were crushed. Unable to move, you could do nothing but weep as the soft yet destructive embrace of the fire charred your skin and blackened your lungs.

Your hand reached out…

You startled awake. Something was pinning you down. Panicked at your immobilisation you frantically grabbed the sheets on top you, a desperate attempt to set yourself free.

“Hey, stop it. You’re okay.” Whiskey brown eyes looked down at you, concern making them wide. Doe-like. A milky white hand held your trembling form down, a flash of gold on the persons index finger instantly soothing your worries. Alex.

“Another nightmare, sweet girl?” She asked in a hushed toned, one you would use when coaxing a frightened kitten out of their hiding place.

Your heart rate was slowly returning to its normal rhythm and you nodded in response to her question. A barely noticeable, minuscule thing that Alex would have missed if she was not paying rapt attention to you. Eyes hawk-like but caring all the same.

Your vice-like grip loosened, letting the duvet you had clutched as if it was your life line pool back around your torso. A shaky hand reached out for your wife, fisting her pyjama shirt tightly in order to draw her as close as humanly possible. You would bury yourself under her skin and never leave if you could.

Shifting slightly onto your side, you grasped onto Alex, hands snaking around her back as lither fingers brushed through your hair. Gentle. Feather-light. Caressing you in such a manor that you couldn’t help but relax further into her embrace.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You squeaked in protest, your voice failing to produce any words whatsoever. Your wife understood this though. Instead, she began to hum a quiet, soothing tune that lulled you into the realm of the sandman once more.

The steady thump of her chest beneath your ears grounded you. The fingers playing with your hair drew a huff of comfort out of you, temporarily quelling the nightmares for the time being. Alex’s presence had always been a source of comfort to you and you would eternally be grateful for her. Especially in times like these. Eventually your erratic heart settled and your fingers holding her back relaxed their grip, your body succumbing to the aura of tranquility Alex held.

A/NII: 2/3 requests done so far. Yayyyy.

[sunandsstars]

BRAVERY

Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader x Lo’ak (Platonic)

Summary: After almost dying, ___ and Lo’ak come back home to a very unhappy Jake Sully. Warnings: Abandonment, Wounds, Pregnancy, Harsh parenting, Mentions of death Word count: 2.4k

“Lo’ak! Prrnen! Where are you?”

___ jogged through the forest, eyes wide and alert, ears going left and right. The boy was lost for some time, he and his brother Neteyam went out into the forest to play ‘hide and seek’ a game the humans introduced, but when the older boy came back crying stating he lost his brother, ___ rushed out as fast as she could to find him.

Neytiri was doing her Tsahìk lessons with her mother and Jake was inside the skyperson building, so the other Na’vi was the only one available to get her son. “Lo’ak?” soft whimpers could be heard to the left of her, pulling back large leaves and vines she saw a head of black braided hair and yellow eyes filled with tears “oh my baby” immediately ___ pulled him into her arms.

“Mama!” the boy gripped her arms and nuzzled into her chest “I’m sorry! I got lost and could not find home”. ___ wiped his eyes and kissed his head, hushing him into calmness.

“It is alright my warrior, mama’s here now, you are safe” she stood up to her feet and pulled Lo’ak to rest on her hip, the little boy continued to weep into her shoulder, her heart ached for her son. The forest was his home, but it could be scary when you, a child, was left to fend for yourself so far out from camp and for so long too. She’s been searching for a while.

___ walked back home with Lo’ak on her hip, who was slowly falling asleep, exhaustion setting in. She continued to hum his song cord, taking note of the sky changing from a bright blue to a pretty orange, eclipse was near. She was sure her mates would be worried for her and their child, she just hoped Neteyam wasn’t too upset.

A sharp noise came from somewhere behind them and she paused, her ears turning back to catch anything. ___ glanced at her son who was fast asleep, head on her shoulder, she took her hand and placed it on the side of his face protectively and slowly twisted around.

Nothing.

‘Maybe it was syaksyuk..’ she hoped, slowly starting to step forward again in the direction of home. But before she could step out from the clearing they where in, a growl sounded in front of them in the shadows. A large black creature revealed itself from the fauna and bared its teeth, ___’s heart leapt out of her chest ‘palulukan’

Lo’ak twisted in her grasp and opened his eyes, rubbing them and taking note that they were still not home “Sa’nok?”. Immediately he was shushed, in confusion he looked up and then to the direction his mother was staring at, seeing the animal they were faced to face with.

The child’s yellow eyes widened and his ears turned back, his other mother, Neytiri, told him of a story in which she rode a palulukan in the war. She told him that it chose her and that it was a good ally and companion even in the short time. But she also told him they were dangerous, it’s name meaning bringer of fear, and that he should stay away from them at all costs.

The creature stalked closer, jaw opening wider and Lo’ak visibly shook, fear settling in harsh. He hissed on instinct, opening his mouth and baring his teeth. A roar came out of the animals mouth and it retaliated, now starting to run towards them, taking Lo’ak’s threat personally.

A gasp was heard above him and he felt them move faster than they were before, ___ climbing roots to the best of her ability, body heavy with much weight, as the Palulukan scratched at them, breaking off parts of the forest in its path. “Close your eyes baby, do not look”

The boy didn’t have to be told twice as his eyes instantly closed, clutching his mama around the neck and squeezing tight.

___ winced loudly as she felt claws scratch at her back, feeling blood drip down onto the floor, leaving a trail and no doubt a heavy scent. She wouldn’t be able to lose the creature even if she tried.

It roared again, much louder than the last, annoyed that it’s prey was slipping away as the Na’vi dodged between trees and ducked under large roots and leaves, the only thing guiding them to home was the glow of the forest.

A sharp whistle of an arrow sounded through the heavy breathing of ___ and the Palulukan’s growls. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of yellow and green and her ears fell back at another roar, this time of pain. Neytiri jumped down in front of them, arrow knocked and ready to shoot again, she hissed at the animal, much more ferocious than Lo’ak’s.

Recognising his mothers war cry, the boy snapped his eyes open and weeped with relief “sa’nok!!”. Another hiss was heard, this time it dragged longer than the archer and was much deeper than either woman’s.

“Get back to camp!” Jake skidded out of the tree line and jumped on the Palulukan with his knife, trying his best to cut a nerve to bring the animal down. ___ sighed with relief and sprinted back home, which thankfully wasn’t much farther, she hoped her mates would be ok, but she didn’t worry for them. They were strong.

“Mama!” two little voices shouted over the sound of rushing Na’vi, Neteyam and Kiri came running at them and hugged ___’s shaking legs. “You are scared” Kiri voiced her thoughts, taking note of the wobbly knees and heavy breathing, “We heard it. The roaring”

“I thought I would never see you two again” the eldest boy clutched tight, wiping his eyes and nose.

___ sat down onto the ground, kissing Lo’ak’s head and bringing both of the other children into her warm arms. “We are ok, I found your brother and we ran back, nothing can hurt us here”

“You’re hurt” Norm and Max came running with a medkit, skidding to a stop behind her and assessing the scratches “these don’t look that deep, enough to draw blood and scar though. But you won’t face any infections if treated correctly”

“Which is what I will be doing” a stern voice sounded to the left of the group, Mo’at came stalking with a basket of healing herbs. She trusted these humans, but she does not agree with their ways, preferring the great mothers help than those of burning alcohol and strange cotton wraps. She knelt down and glanced at the two men who nodded and packed the kit, sitting back and watching her work. The older Na’vi took a salve and applied it to the wounds, hearing her daughter in law hiss and growl softly to the sting.

“Grandma, you should have used the other one” Kiri peeked over her mama’s shoulder to watch Mo’at work, not afraid of the blood and gore.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“It would sting less”

___ chuckled and felt the burn disperse, sighing. Her mind drifted a little more, hand moving from Neteyam who was still clutched to her side, to her stomach which held a large noticeable bump. She was sure the adrenaline and stress got to the baby, but when feeling a soft kick to her hand all was well.

Mo’at finished with the back and then crawled to ___’s front, placing her own hand upon the bump “you two are fine, the great mother continues to shine on you” she grinned. Thanking Eywa for leaving the baby and her grandson unharmed, thanking Eywa for sparing all three lives.

“___!”

At the call of her name ___ turned around and felt her eyes water, her mates where ok, despite some dirt and bruises, maybe a couple small scratches. Her yellow orbs saw the Palulukan behind them, dead and being carried off to skin as food.

“Oh thank you great mother! Irayo si!” Neytiri ran faster than Jake, skidding to her side and kissing her head, then turning to Lo’ak and smooching his cheeks “you were hurt, we didn’t really see all that well and thought it was bad. I see now you are fine”

“She’s not fine Neytiri! She’s hurt! What if she and Lo’ak were killed?!” the boy frowned at the mention of his name, he was ok, why was his father angry, mama is alive and ok too. “Boy, what were you doing so far out into the forest? huh?! You were told to stay near to camp!”

Max and Norm glanced at each other, slowly backing away and jogging back to the old hellsgate, this was a fight they did not want to hear.

“Ma Jake, enough” ___ glared, placing her hand against her sons head once again “it was not Lo’ak’s fault”

“Oh? Then who is? You and the baby could have- could have died because of this moron!”

“JAKE!” ___ briskly stood up, softly apologising to the other two children who’s ears where folded at their fathers rage. She turned and faced her mate, anger in her watering eyes, why was he so angry at Lo’ak? Who has done nothing wrong? “This is your son, my baby, he is not an idiot! He was playing with Neteyam and got lost, this is not his fault” tears fell down her cheeks, Neytiri felt her heart break and reached out to wipe them, placing her hand on her mates full stomach. “Lo’ak was brave. He was a warrior today. Why can you not see that?”

Turning around she stalked to their hut in the trees, climbing with the three children at her sides, Lo’ak deciding to walk on his feet again. His mind turned at what his father said, he has never been so angry at him, maybe scolding him sometimes for causing trouble in the lab with Kiri, or when doing pranks with Neteyam, but this? It was new.

Reaching their home their mama walked inside and sat them all down, grabbing Lo’ak’s song cord off his tweng and grabbing a basket full of beads. “Pick one, to show off your bravery prrnen”

“I don’t know if I was that brave today mama…I was scared” He turned his head down and felt his siblings clutch his shoulders, disagreeing.

“You stood up to Palulukan, that is bravery. Being scared does not mean you are not brave little one” Lo’ak sniffed and grinned, feeling his little heart warm at his mama’s words.

“Yea you are the mighty warrior! Who is the mighty warrior?! Lo’ak!” Neteyam cheered, making war cried and throwing his fists in the air. Kiri rolled her eyes and grinned at her brothers, smacking the eldest on the head. ___ chuckled at her children and heard a rustle behind them, deciding to ignore it. Her hand went upon her belly and rubbed.

Lo’ak sifted through the different clay beads, finding a jagged black one and lifting it up “this one”, he then took his song cord and weaved it in, grinning. “This bead symbolises my bravery from a Palulukan”

A cough sounded through the open space, Lo’ak turned to see who was there and instantly his ears folded. ___ immediately knew it was her mate. “Hey…uh can I speak to you…both of you” the man slowly walked in and Neteyam and Kiri scurried out, not wanting to see what was to come. Lo’ak kept his head down, even when his father knelt next to him “Son, I want to apologise. You are not a moron, I should not have called you that. You were brave, protecting your mama when me and your mother could not. I am sorry”

The boy slowly looked up and his eyes watered for what felt like the millionth time today, he didn’t want to show this much weakness, especially not in front of him. Neteyam never did. “It is ok dad”

“No, no it’s not” Jake brought his arms up to wrap around Lo’ak and kissed the top of his head “I promise I will make it up to you…Hey, why don’t we go hunting tomorrow? Hm? Just us two?” his son perked right up, his father rarely had time to hunt with him and his brother anymore, with his duties as clan leader, and with him wanting to go hunt with just Lo’ak and not with Neteyam too…he couldn’t wait to rub it in his brothers face.

Eagerly nodding and shouting his thanks and praises, the boy scurried off, no doubt about to create a spat with his older sibling. ___ smiled a little as she watched him leave, not yet wanting to face Jake just yet but a hand fell atop her own on her tummy “___ please look at me”

She hesitated, “why should I?” she whispered softly “when you called our son an idiot for doing what children do? You hurt him, you hurt me” she turned to face him, ears back, tail swaying behind her.

Jake felt remorse, he never wanted to cause emotional harm to his family, now and ever. “I thought you two were hurt, you three even. If I lost Lo’ak..the baby..I don’t know what I would do with myself” he whispered. “When we heard the roar of the palulukan, we knew what it meant, you were in danger. Me and Neytiri never ran so fast in our life..”

“But that still does not explain you calling him names Jake”

“I was angry, at myself, I should have been the one to find Lo’ak and protect him. You should have been home safe, I took that anger out in those words and I should not have” ___ took his face into her hands and kissed his cheeks, understanding him and his fears. He’s lost so much in his life, his brother, his legs, his friends who fought in the war…

“I see you” she kissed his lips “I see your fears”. Jake felt relieved, he didn’t deserve her or her kindness. The man leant down and smooched her stomach, feeling a kick on his nose, ___ giggled “seems the little one is punishing you”

“I deserve it” he chuckled. He was glad that his family was intact and safe, he would need to put up watches tonight, afraid anything else would happen. But somehow, he knew, this was not the end.

[glitterguts13]

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY PART1

Father's Day special delivery coming right now! Part 1 is all about the Genshin boys having their babies! Enjoy!

Albedo The candlelight is dim, casting a soft orange glow in the dark room. Hunched over next to his bed, Albedo gasps, one hand clutching onto the bed-frame, the other guiding his unborn child into the world.

“Come on, come on, just-” muffling a groan into his forearm, Albedo cries out at his child drops into his waiting hands. Pulling them up to his chest, he weeps softly upon hearing their soft cries.

“Good girl...oh sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

Bennett

“Oh- oh!” sobbing weakly, Bennett reaches under his heavy belly, fingers grazing over the legs dangling from his burning hole. “N-no, baby, no-wrong way-!” he sucks in a breath, crying out as he bares down with what was left of his waning strength. He stretches open, screaming, a suddenly rush of fluid falls onto the floor as his hands grasp around his squalling newborn.

“Oh-Archons thank you...you’re safe, you’re safe now.”

Diluc

Nails digging into the wooden counter tops of his bar, Diluc roars in agony. Legs spread apart, deep into a low squat, he bares down, cursing under his breath as his newborn slips onto the piles of towels he’d had the forethought to place down.

“Fuck-Oh fuck.” quickly lifting them from the floor, Diluc cradles them to his chest, marveling how just how loudly they cried.

“That’s it, good...cry, just keep crying for me.”

Kaeya

Groaning loudly, Kaeya rolls onto his side, lifting one leg into the air. A slow trickle of fluid running down his thighs, the head bulging against his tight rim of muscles.

“Just. Come. Out!” he groans again, burying his face into his pillow and pushing. All at once, the head pops free, the shoulders turning and slipping out with one final effort.

“Shit,” bringing them to his chest, he strokes a finger over their ruddy cheeks as they wail, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me.”

Mika “Push, Mika, you have to push.” the midwife busies herself between Mika’s trembling legs, giving the head dangling from his hole a gentle tug.

“Stop-Stop, don’t pull it!” he sobs, pushing despite the pain coursing throughout his aching stomach. All at once, the pressure ends, a screaming little boy placed to his heaving chest.

“Thank you...Archons thank you…”

Razor

The howl tears from his throat, raw and primal as another contraction rippled through his belly. A few wolves poked about, watching curiously as Razor bore down, bringing his pup into the world under the moon and stars. They plops onto the ground, bawling furiously, and Razor quickly brings them to his chest.

“Good pup...good lungs, cry...let the forest hear you.”

Venti

The scream tears through the tranquil night, shattering the peace. Naked and alone, Venti lets out another ear-splitting shriek as his child tears from his narrow hips and into his shaking hands. They flail about, crying and whimpering as Venti cuddles them close, singing a lullaby into their ear.

Baizhu

“Oh, Archons, have mercy-” skin ghostly white, hands clenched around his ankles, keeping his legs spread best he can, Baizhu struggles to push. His belly quivers with another contraction, sending him into a frenzied scream, his baby finally popping free.

“Dearest one- Oh, my little star,” he rambled, bringing the newborn to his chest, and wiping the muck of birth from their face, “Mother is here...I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Chongyun

“Just...a little...more-!” voice muffled with the rag stuffed into his mouth, Chongyun groans loudly. His fingertips graze of the top of the head, pushing with all his strength and gasping as the head crowns fully into his palm. One last push, and it’s squalling loudly, coming to be held tightly in Chongyun’s arms.

“There...there you are, welcome home baby.”

Gaming “You’re so close darling, hang there a bit longer.” Gaming sobs, clutching his mother’s hand tightly.

“Push, push, you’ve got the head out, push Gaming.” she soothes, watching as her grandchild comes into the world with a loud wail, flailing arms and legs. She places the newborn to Gaming’s chest, and he wraps around her instantly,

“Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, Daddy’s here…”

Xiao

The storm rages just outside the cavern. Spear in hand, Xiao anchors himself to it, stabbing the blade into the dirt and holding tight as he bore down. His belly tightened, legs quivering, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth as he feels something large slide from his body. Swiftly, he lifts the child to his arms, marveling at their beauty.

“You’re safe, I’ll protect you, forever.”

Xingqui

“Don’t stop, keep pushing!” legs held back by the midwife, Xingqui wails, clutching at his belly. Each push brought him closer and closer to being done, but doubled the pain. He feels them ripping him open, forcing their way into the world, ready or not.

“Push!” she orders once more, and Xingqui does, mind going blank for a moment before he realizes there’s a squirming newborn on his chest.

“You...little brat...that hurt-”

Zhongli

Slow, heaven breaths, eyes closed in deep concentration. The feeling of his muscles contracting, inching his baby closer and closer to the world, his entrance opening wide, burning as the head starts to peak through.

A soft gasp, hands quivering ever so slightly as he reaches between his legs and lifts his offspring into view.

“What a powerful little one you are,” Zhongli chuckles, exhaustion seeping into his bones, “I’m so very proud of you.”

Arataki Itto

“Ah- fuck!” moaning deeply, Itto gives one last solid push. The tiny pointed horns of his newborn dragging along the tender skin as it emerges, ripping it open. Blood splatters onto the ground, but Itto pays no mind, bringing his precious little treasure to his chest.

“That...was one hell of an entrance kiddo..but didja have to hurt Daddy like that-”

Ayato “Breathe, brother, slow, deep breaths...in and out...yes, like that.” Ayaka presses a damp towel to her brother’s cheek, mindful not to peek under the sheets where the midwife was at work.

“Push, one last push!” closing his eyes and pressing his chin to his chest, Ayato bares down, crying out as the baby enters the world with an indignant warble.

“Give her to me.” he orders, uncaring of the mess left behind, snuggling them into the crook of his arm.

“Welcome…Mommy is so glad to meet you...”

Gorou

“Good job Gorou, just one more push!” two pups already latched to his milky breasts Gorou groans, barely giving any effort before the third of his litter drops into Kokomi’s eager hands.

“Two girls and a son! You did wonderful Gorou.” with a smile, she places the third babe between her siblings, snuffling and whining loudly at the lack of a teat to feed on. Laughing weakly, Gorou gives her back a gentle rub,

“One moment baby...Mama has plenty of milk for you too, don’t worry.”

Kazhua

“I told you, you should have stayed at the harbor!” Beidou cringes as Kazhua lets out another deep, guttural moan, and nearly drops at the sight of the head bulging between her friend’s legs.

“Oh Archons- I can see it!” a slow, even breath, and Kazuha moans loudly through the next push, sending his baby flopping out onto the bed below.

“What do I do with it-”

“Hand it to me.” Kazuha sighs, shaking his head as Beidou gingerly places the screaming infant to his chest. Brave as she is, nothing could have prepared her for witnesses her dear friend being split open.

“Hello little one, Papa is here…”

Heizou

“Oh fuck just get out, please!” pressing his hands atop his heaving belly, Heizou pushes, legs kicking out as the head bursts forth with a spray of blood and fluid. Once more, and it drops onto the sheets between his legs, squirming and furious.

“You...troublemaker.” he pants, bringing them closer, and inspecting them closely.

“You aren’t getting siblings. Ever.”

Thoma

“Oh- Archons- not on the floor-!” halfway from the bath to his bed, the urge to bare down overcomes him. Dropping to all fours, Thoma barely as the chance to reach around and catch the newborn as it plops right into his shaking grasp. Mindful of the cord connecting them, Thoma brings them to his chest, allowing them to latch right to his milk laden breast.

“Two minutes...just two more minutes and we wouldn’t have ruined the floor…”

Alhaitham

“Enough, is enough.” a full day had passed, and the scribe was far past through. The head was crowning, snugly resting between his legs, and with one final effort, fully emerges. Gasping and clawing at the blankets under him, AlHaitham bares down again with renewed determination, relief flooring them him as they enter the world with a shrill cry.

“You certainly took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

Cyno

Growling, deep and feral, Cyno braces himself against the temple wall. The floor under him damp with his waters, body soaked with sweat as he forces his unborn into the world. Sharp reflexes keeps the infant from falling to the ground, and Cyno carefully checks them.

“Ten fingers...ten toes...One whole baby.”

Kaveh

“You’re scaring the other patie-” another earth shattering scream fills the room, followed by a pitiful sob.

“Just get it out, I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“You have to push if you want it out, now, push!” the doctor was more than done with Kaveh’s noise, and was losing his composure over his unwillingness to cooperate. Kaveh does his best, struggling to sit up enough to leverage his body into baring down, screaming bloody murder the whole way.

“There! A girl!” the doctor puts her into Kaveh’s belly, drying her off as the architect babbles incoherently.

“It’s over-I did it-Oh Archons, oh-oh what do I do now-”

Sethos

The desert was his home, and it was where he felt safest. Bringing his baby into the world surrounded by the sand had never been a question of ‘if,’ but ‘when.’ A strong push, a wild scream, and the baby is resting in his hands, bloody and wailing. Chuckling weakly, and falling onto his back, Sethos lie there with them wailing against his chest for a few moments.

“Good work kiddo...good work.”

Tighnari

“Come...on-!” three little big eared kits slept peacefully in their cots, while their Tighnari struggled nearby with the surprise fourth. Coming nearly six hours after the other, and certain he was finished, Tighnari squats next to the cots, groaning as his last kit slides easily into his hands. Panting, he brings them to his chest, wrapping them with a nearby blanket for warmth.

“Don’t worry little one,” he soothes, “I won’t let them tease you for being the runt, I promise.”

Freminet

The water offers some solace as the baby begins to crown, the cool sea easing the burn. He pushes, groaning into the night air, relief flooding him as the baby slides into the water with a cloud of blood and fluid. Taking in a shaky breath, he brings them to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of their head.

“Welcome to the world...Mama will keep you safe, I promise.”

Lyney

“Almost there, just a little more.” Lynnette whispers to her brother, holding his hand tightly as he bore down. He cries out, startled at the sensation of his child leaving his body.

“A boy, you have a son.” she whispers, handing the newborn to Lyney’s waiting hands. He swallows thickly, throat tight with emotion.

“Daddy’s here...you’ll always be safe with us...no one will ever hurt you.”

Neuvillette

Groaning, Neuvillette clings to the side of the tub with enough force to risk breaking the porcelain. His body felt as if it were being torn apart, and he’s grateful not a soul is around to hear the scream he releases as his child barrels into the world. With haste, he lifts them from the water, clutching their squirming form to his chest and nuzzling them gently.

“Don’t cry little one...You are safe and sound…”

Wrio

“Just...a little...more...come on…” he mumbles under his breath, eyes closed in focus as another contraction tears through him. A high scream, and he feels the weight in his pelvis drop, landing safely on the mattress. Opening his eyes, he blinks through years and spies the bloody little thing his body had kept warm and safe for the last nine months.

“Hey champ...welcome to the world.”

Tartaglia

“Shit!” being stabbed, beaten and nearly killed somehow didn’t compare to the sheer torture of having a baby push it’s way through his tight hole. Each push brings it closer to the world, and deepens the pain, but he doesn’t stop, not until he feels them slide careful into his bloodied hands.

“Gotcha...I gotcha kid, I got ya.”

Wanderer

Secluded and locked away from the rest of the world, he questions his own sanity. Why did he allow this parasite to grow off him? Why was he letting it torment him this way? Why was he pushing it out and screaming in pain and feeling all too lost and afraid.

“You...You…” he looks at the newborn's delicate face, screwed up and red as it wailed away, “What do I do with you...”

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Not Your Fault (Arya to Eragon)

A part of the 2024 Modern Inheritance Whimsical Whumps of Winter prompt challenge! This is a mix of the prompt Nightmares (Eragon) and Not Your Fault (Arya to Eragon). Prompts are still open so feel free to submit a request via reply, dm, ask or reblog!

I tried my best but I don't think it's exactly what you were looking for @thearunadragon so I apologize in advance. You could look at this as a bit of a tie in to the previously established story far earlier in the timeline (as this story takes place in the weird and wild extended war area and the story I'm about to mention is immediately post-Brisingr) Collateral as it deals with some similar topics.

Anyways, on to it!

TW: Mentions of child death, civilian death in warzones, soft target deaths and general war trauma. ~~~ Eragon pries himself from his Waking Dreams, haunted by the specters of civilians lost in a recent battle where he was the leader. Unable to bring himself to tell Saphira of another guilt she does not fully understand, the young Rider finds himself aimlessly wandering the Varden's camp, followed by his Waking Dreams, until he comes upon Arya having her own moment alone on a cold night. ~~~

“Can I…” Movement in the corner of his vision stopped Eragon’s question dead. The little girl was still there, staring at him with wide, frozen eyes. 

“You said we were safe there!” Her voice wasn’t accusing. Shit, sometimes he preferred when they were aggressive, so he could push back and not feel so ashamed of it. But she– ‘Vivian.’ he remembered with a hollow pang, the screams of the child’s mother echoing through his skull –Vivian always sounded so small and terrified. Confused. “You said we were going to be okay!”

Eragon closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. The icy air stung his nose and crackled in his lungs. Even with the world shut out for a moment, he could still see the ghost of his Waking Dreams there. Off to the side still. Clutching at the gore soaked fabric of her woolen dress where shards of metal had shorn the cloth away to reveal destroyed flesh beneath. 

“Can I sit with you?”

Arya gave him one of her half quirked grins. “Thought we were past you having to ask.” With a sweep of her hand the woman cleared the thin layer of snow that had collected on the frozen ground beside her. “All yours.”

Eragon did his best to return the smile despite the child weeping in the corner of his eye. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” 

They sat together in silence. At least, it was mostly silent. Even at night the sounds of the Varden’s camp continued, subdued by the decrease of alert inhabitants and muffled by the thin blanket of snow falling around the tents. 

And of course, it wasn’t silent for Eragon. Somehow Garrow had entered his Waking Dreams, admonishing the little girl for getting so messy, telling her in clipped tones that Eragon couldn’t be everywhere at once, so stop whining that he let her die. After all, he let his own uncle die, the man who raised him, so how–

“Who are you seeing?” 

Eragon jolted at Arya’s voice, his head snapping to locate the sound despite her proximity. The elf turned the page of the small book she had splayed open on the fingers of one hand, entirely nonchalant. When the Rider did not answer, she repeated her question. “Who are you seeing?”

The young man worked his mouth, trying to find words. How could she tell? “I’m not sure I understand your–”

“If I don’t get to lie to you about my shitshow nights, then you don’t get to lie to me about yours.” Marking her spot with a finger, Arya closed the book and turned her head to look him dead in the eye. Ah. Of course she could recognize it. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’m not going to force you.”

Eragon couldn’t tell if it was relief that rushed into his chest, or another wave of hurt. There he went, worrying the people around him again. 

He had so, so many people he could go to that would meet him with understanding and support. Brom, Glenwing, Roran, even Nasuada and Katrina had all comforted him in their own ways when he had confessed his troubles to them in confidence. Not to mention Saphira, his Partner of Heart and Mind, his everything, his other half! 

And yet somehow, sometimes, none of them completely understood. Even Saphira, who did all she could to give him comfort and clarity, did not always understand how he felt about the war. About the lives taken, intentionally or not. The others did, in their own way. Everyone experienced it differently after all. 

But this was Arya. Arya, who had joined the war at what was considered the elven equivalent of the age Eragon had found himself swept into the conflict. Who, at least from what he had learned, spent more nights awake than most grappling with her own feelings of how her actions affected those around her, and how to best take the weight off the shoulders of her comrades in arms. Duty and sense of right and wrong clashing with what needed to be done, making the choice and living with it. 

Maybe that was why he came to her, after all. Not Saphira, nor Brom, Glen, Roran. To her, the only other person who might truly, fully understand where this pain, this guilt, was coming from. 

His shaky breath out spawned a cloud of mist in the air before him. “I’ve been…having nightmares again.” 

“Visions?”

“No.” Eragon shook his head. “Nothing like that. Just…” He bit his tongue as Vivian’s crying reached a hysterical pitch. “The wolves. In my head again.” 

Arya did not respond with words. Instead, Eragon felt warmth hovering over the back of his hand and flicked his gaze down to find that the elf had hesitantly reached out to him. He gave her a tiny nod and her fingers settled over his, a point of contact for him to follow should he fall. 

“I keep thinking about the last mission. That town.” Vivian abruptly stopped crying at Arya’s touch. She vanished into the softly falling snow, Garrow following her, as Eragon finally shook off the final dregs of waking sleep with his continued speech. “I know…I know we did everything we could to get the civilians out of the way, but…” His voice caught suddenly. “The little girl. And all the others. So many of them died.”

“I can’t stop thinking that…” Eragon swallowed, the next words thick in his throat. A grim confession, an admittance of his guilt. “That she died, and the others died, because we were there.” The young man tightened his grip on his knees, fighting to contain the tears that welled up. “That fight wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t there. And it wouldn’t have gotten so out of control if Saphira and I weren’t there. It’s my fault.”

Arya did not answer immediately. The elf took a moment to properly mark the page she had held with her finger and set the book aside before she leaned her head against the rock at their backs. Eragon took no offense at her pause, having long ago come to understand that when Arya took her time it was out of sincere care for the subject at hand. 

She took a long, calming breath in before letting it steam out of her nose in twin clouds of vapor in the chilled air. 

“Your logic…” Arya began slowly. “Is not inherently wrong.” Eragon’s stomach sank. She must have caught his dropped expression, because the woman put her hand out in a gesture of calm. “Hold on. Let me finish. Your logic is not inherently wrong, but it only takes into account a single moment.”

Arya held her extended hand up and curled it into a fist, her thumb extended to the side. “Yes. That fight would not have happened if the Varden had not sent us there. However, the Varden would not have sent us there if the Broddring soldiers were not sent there to conscript all the men in that town for Galbatorix’s army.” She raised her pointer finger. “The need for more men to be conscripted to Galbatorix’s army would not have happened had the Varden not engaged the Empire in full scale war.” Another finger joined the others. “The Varden would not have engaged the Empire in full scale war had Galbatorix not sent the Urgals to Farthen Dûr to attack the resistance at its heart.” Again, another. 

“Eragon, I could go on and on and on.” Arya dropped her hand. “I can go back over a hundred years, to the day that Galbatorix and Jarnunvösk chose to enter the Spine knowing full well that it was Urgal territory and arrogantly considered themselves untouchable despite the known risks.” 

Eragon wiped his eyes. Even as the woman spoke, he felt the lump in his throat rising. “That’s true. But I still gave the orders that day. I…I’m the one who told the families to hide in that part of town, even though–”

“Eragon. Stop.” Rough palms settled on his cheeks, gently turned the young Rider to face her. Arya’s eyes shone in the darkness, flickers of familiar pain that Eragon was sure he would see had he found a mirror that night. “Enough. It was not your fault. This war, it is not your fault.” 

“But–”

“Shush.” Soft but commanding, Arya silenced him with a finger to his lips. “It is not your fault, and it is not Saphira’s fault, that you both were thrown into this war. This war was made by a man who never took time nor responsibility for his grief and instead decided to inflict it on the world. 

Every day, since the day I met you, I have seen you and Saphira take action.” She lifted his chin, swiped away a tear with her thumb. “And every time, I see you both consider the consequences in all that you do. You came into this war as children, forced into it without a choice in the matter, and you both have learned and grown so much despite your circumstances.” 

Eragon swallowed hard and tried to shake his head. Saphira, he would agree, had taken on her role like a fish to water, like…well, like a dragon to the skies. But him? The scruffy farm boy, the fool who had not only taken part in battles where hundreds of lives had been lost, but the imbecile who had cursed an innocent babe, had failed to save so many, had–

Arya’s voice took on a brittle tone for a brief moment. “Eragon, if you keep disagreeing with me right now while I’m trying to comfort you and explain this, I swear I’ll have Saphira relocate the cook tent’s viscera pile to your bedroll. Am I clear?” 

Oh, he did not doubt her in the slightest. He summoned his will to, at the very least, bite his tongue and nodded.

“Good. Now. I have met countless men and women three times your age and more, who hold the lives of their troops in their hands, and they did not even consider what could happen when they give their orders and make their choices. They didn’t even give time to the idea of thinking any of it over! But you and Saphira do.” 

Arya gave him a soft smile. “So I know. I know neither of you intend to hurt anyone you don’t have to. You try so hard to keep the civilians out of it. You set clear, hard boundaries and fight for them when they are tested or broken. But war…fuck, war hurts. It hurts everyone. And if you didn’t feel some guilt then I’d honestly be more worried about you than I constantly am!

“Eragon, it is not your fault that war did what war does. You and Saphira did everything in your power to try and keep those people safe. You stacked the deck in their favor and yet war decided to say ‘fuck you’ and snapped a cable in some shitty old Broddring artillery that shouldn’t have even been there and shouldn’t have been aimed into a town allied with its owners and sent a fucking cannonbomb into what happened to be the same area we, yes, we, agreed to shelter the civilians while we rooted out the soldiers.” 

Arya released her grip on his face and shifted her hands to his shoulders. “Eragon. It was not your fault.” She shook him gently. “Say it.”

“I–”

“Say. It. Don’t you call me a liar to my face. Say ‘War sucks. It’s not my fault.’”

Eragon dropped his gaze. “War sucks. Not my fault.”

“Say it again and maybe I’ll hear it this time.”

He breathed in. Breathed out. “War sucks. It’s not my fault.”

“One more time and maybe I’ll believe you.”

That quirked a tiny smile at the edges of his lips. Hell. He was starting to believe it himself. “War sucks. It’s not my fault.”

The elf pulled him closer after the words left his mouth and, in one of the favorite little gestures they shared, pressed their foreheads together. No words were spoken, just a thread of relief that passed between them in the contact. His relief at the confirmation of his lack of guilt, and hers at his understanding of what she tried to convey.

And then Arya drew back and settled against the rock again, shoulders squared. The posture told the Rider multitudes. Eragon was with her, and he needed help. Arya was protecting him, alert, watchful, that vigilance colored with warm care towards her friend. Not quite On Duty, but happily taking him on to keep his demons, real or imagined, at bay. 

He couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

Eragon sniffed one final time and rubbed away the last traces of tears on his face. He already knew her answer from the way she had shifted, but he always felt the need to ask. "Can...Can I stay here? I don't want to worry Saphira. She'd understand better if she finds you watching me."

"You can stay, but only if you get in here. I’m fucking freezing." Never taking her eyes off the tents around them, Arya lifted her arm so that her cloak opened to him, gathered warmth spilling out into the chill night. "Come on."

The easy smile she gave him was all he needed in that vulnerable moment. Eragon scooted over and let the elf drape her arm over his shoulders and rearrange the warm fabric so that it wrapped around them both. A gentle squeeze had him leaning into her side. He tucked his legs up to where he had pulled his arms and fists under his chin, and just like that...Eragon found himself being cuddled.

Arya rubbed his far shoulder with a quiet sigh that ghosted puffs of mist into the air. "Damn, you've definitely got that elven blood going. You're warmer than you used to be." With a deft flick of her wrist the elf opened her book to the page she had marked. "Now get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere." It was silent for a handful of seconds after Eragon closed his eyes. “...You’re going to keep me safe if Saphira gets jealous of this, right? This is usually her move.”

Eragon let a sleepy smile grace his lips. “I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

“Fantastic. Go to sleep, dork.”

[remersgf]

I saw that requests are open... Perhaps you could write a drable of Remer taking care of a drunk reader who's kinda sad and teary eyed and keeps telling him how much they love him? (Also your other writting pieces are really good I'm still re-reading some of them :DD)

thank u for this request it’s so cute i love it😭

doug remer x (implied)fem!reader

1k words

cw: alcohol, being drunk, SAPPY!!!

enjoy :)

“douuugguhhhh” 

you slurred as you knocked on the door of your boyfriend’s house. it was around 2ish, 3ish? you stopped paying attention hours ago. you and your friends had their weekly ‘going-out’ night, and by the end of it, you were craving the warm embrace of the tall-ass man you loved so dearly. that’s how you found yourself here; standing barefoot on remer and coop’s doorstep, heels in hand, and tears threatening to drop from your eyes.

remer opened the door, greeted with your teary-eyed drunk stature, and furrowed his brows at you. “y/n? what are you doing here? come in…” he said, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in and closing the door behind you with the other.

you buried your face in his chest, dropping your heels and clutching onto his sweatshirt. you let the tears fall without caring anymore, crying into him. he hugged you back and smoothed out your messy hair with a gentle hand. 

“douuug” you weep, “love you s’muchhh,” tears now soaking his clothes.

“what’s wrong? did something happen at the bar? talk to me, baby.” he said, concern and panic laced in his tone.

“n-nothin’. just missed you, thas’ all…” sniffling, you bring your head up to look into his eyes. 

“aww, hon. you missed me that bad?” he grinned. 

“shutnnup. missed my sweetie-pie” you babbled in between sniffles, pinching his cheek.

he cringed at your nickname for him, lightly swatting your hand away from his face. remer wiped the tears and running mascara from your under eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead shortly after. 

“jesus, y/n, how much did you drink? you smell like robert downy jr.…” 

“a lot.” you smiled lazily at him with half-lidded eyes.

“figured. let’s get you cleaned up, i’m assuming you wanna sleepover?” he asked, swaying you gently in his arms.

“please.”

he led you to his room, sitting you down at the end of his bed. you watched him rifle through his messy closet, picking out his shirts sweatshirt, and a pair of his (thankfully) clean boxers for you to wear as shorts. 

“need help…” you murmur, reaching behind you sloppily and trying to unzip your tight dress unsuccessfully. 

he motions for you to stand up and he unzips your dress, letting the straps slide off your arms and fall to the floor. holding your hands, he helps you step out of the fabric. he also unclips your bra for you, dropping it once he finally gets the clasp to disconnect. he’s always so gentle with you in times like these; replacing his usual silly self with a much calmer, caretaker-like personality. he always ends up babying you, even if he’s drunk himself, and you love it. it’s exactly what you need in those moments. 

you slip his sweatshirt over your head and slide on his boxers, rolling the waistband up a few times so they wouldn’t fall down. when you had finished dressing, you couldn’t help noticing remer looking at you with heart-eyes.

“you look so cute, all dressed up in my clothes.” he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“i look just like you, you narc.”

“no, you don’t! you’re missing a couple feet” he laughs.

“thas’ not funny.” 

“yes, it is, dwarf. let me fix your face” he says, slipping away into the bathroom and coming back with a wet washcloth.

he wipes away your eye makeup first, the roughness of the towel making you whine. he moves on to the rest of your face, being sure to remove the mascara that ran down to your neck. 

“all better?” he asks.

“would be better if i had moisturizer, i feel like a piece of cardboard. i never understood why boys don’t use that stuff.”

“hand lotion works just fine for me.”

you stare at him blankly in disbelief as he stares back oblivious. he throws the washcloth in his hamper and doesn’t bat an eye at you. when he pulls you into another tight hug, your tears start again. he surrounds you, and your heart feels like it’s bursting with adoration. 

“y/n, why are you crying?” he cooed, “i’m right here. i gotcha,” squeezing your sides to emphasize his point. 

“i’mm love youuu..” you manage to say into his chest in between sad heaves for air.

“i know, honey. ‘i’m’ love you, too.” 

you stand there crying into him, hugging his torso for what felt like hours in your head. he let you get your tears out, softly rubbing your back and swaying you back n forth. after a while your breaths synced and your tears stopped, basking in the peaceful quiet.

“do… you have any tortillas?” you sniffle, looking up at him with a frown.

“you just want… one tortilla?” 

“can you get me two?” 

“of… course. yeah, i’ll be back” he replied, leaving to retrieve your precious tortillas. 

he comes back hastily with tortillas, two glasses of water, and a couple of painkillers for you to wake up to in the morning. you crawl into his bed, getting yourself comfy, and remer hands you a glass and your food. he climbs in next to you, squeezing up close and quietly observing your weak demeanor as you eat.

halfway through your second tortilla, you nearly fall asleep chewing. he slowly takes the rest out of your hands, mildly scared you were gonna bite his hand or something. he also takes your water glass, putting it on the floor next to the bed. you feel your eyes closing all the way, unconsciousness enveloping you in its warm embrace. remer carefully gets up, not wanting to wake you, and turns off the lights. he stands awkwardly in the dark silence and finishes your half-eaten tortilla before returning to you. what a strange man. 

scooting in back next to you, he holds you in his arms and pecks your shoulder, whispering an ‘i love you’ before falling asleep himself.  

[shmothman]

I think I hit send before my ask was ready. I was trying to ask for prompt 7 if you were still taking them. I think I fragmented my sentence and it probably came off weird or rude (I hope not).

No you’re totally good!! No worries 🥰

Hurt/Comfort Prompt List (closed)

7. "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

(I will use this as an excuse to write more feathers. Because I’m reading the manga now.)

Eschaton (vash/reader, 645 words)

There are feathers bursting from his skin: his cheeks, his arm and shoulder, spreading and lengthening with each passing moment. His blue eyes are wide and terrified, half-consumed in some terrible frenzy—he’s fighting against it with everything that he has, his voice hoarse as he screams, begs you to run. But you’re rooted to the spot, not horrified by his transformation but by the pain on his face, his expression twisted in sheer agony; how can you heed his words and abandon him when everything in you is more afraid for him than for yourself? When all you want to do is embrace him?

You take a step toward him, and there are tears in his eyes now as he swipes at the air—claws forming from his always-gentle fingers—with a cry of anguish: get back, please! Your heart is breaking, but you can’t obey him, not now, not when he needs you; he needs you—

He clambers away from you as you approach, your hands held out before you in a placating gesture, words of comfort falling from your lips without any input from your brain; it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m not leaving you.

He shakes his head (feathers catching the movement, long and sharp and beginning to obscure his right eye, white eclipsing blue) whispering a rasping please, please run. But he isn’t going to hurt you, as much as he fears he will, you know this for a fact, more certain than you are of anything in the world, he could never, ever hurt you.

Now he’s covering himself with his arm, with his wing, harsh light emanating from his skin as you kneel before him in supplication—let me help you.

He cowers, sobs, but you don’t shy away. 

A horrified, wet gasp sounds from his lips as you fall into him, arms wrapping round the shaking expanse of his back, feathers soft and sharp and shiver-glowing.

I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.

A loud sob, wrenched from the depths of his chest, one more cry of run.

You’re shushing him quietly, hands smoothing over impossible wings, eyes shut tight against the blinding light. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

There are tears wetting your shoulder, and then the world is muffled as wings surround you, his body once more visible—twisting, strange, inhuman—not daring to touch you with transformed hands but enfolding you, protective, understanding that you refuse to leave him as the wind rises around you. But your hands are on his back, your lips in his ear, whispering comfort, soothing; finally his arms close around you.

His rasping sob sounds like your name.

And so you stay: your arms around his body and his around you, repeating over and over I’m here, I love you.

The light begins to fade first, dimming, winking out, enclosing you in the darkness of his embrace. He shakes in your hold as shuddering sobs wrack his body, and you don’t think he even notices as, slowly, the feathers begin to retract, as the wings retreat. His nails are blunt now as he clutches at your shirt, gasping apologies into your shoulder. 

He has nothing to be sorry for. 

It’s a long time before he comes back to himself, before his weeping grows soft, before he collapses into you. Before he lifts his head to look into your eyes, expression full of so many conflicting emotions that it makes your heart twist painfully in your chest.

You know what he’s going to say: that you should have run; this was too dangerous; you could have died. And you aren’t naive, you know what he’s capable of; but you also know that he isn’t defined by the destruction, that his transformation doesn’t have to mean that anyone gets hurt. You’ll prove it to him. 

No matter how long it takes, you’ll prove it to him.

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

gif credit

masterlist | playlist | chapter vi

Chapter VII: Soft But Estranged

summary: an off day on tour doesn’t mean an off day for partying! The entire touring family heads out for what’s supposed to be a fun night off on the Vegas Strip.

tags/warnings: so much angst it’s gross, mutual pining, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, slow burn, hurt/slight comfort, pining, longing, break up, excessive drinking

a/n: i’m turning up the dial on this fic to 11. angst to the max. no fluff all pain. torture. enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

October 1989

“Oh, honey, come here.” Robin pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob and snot into her shoulder. It’s three in the morning, and you’ve been drinking yourself into a stupor. You left Eddie a week ago, and haven’t been able to breathe right since. Seeing the video for The Crawl on MTV this morning sent you into a dizzying depression, remembering the days when Eddie would sit at the kitchen table trying to put the chords together. You wished you were with him, on tour, greeting him with kisses after every set. But he left for tour yesterday without telling you, and you only found out when Dustin asked why you weren’t with him. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him you’d broken up with him, so Steve had to break the news.

“I just don’t get it. Why didn’t he try harder? Why didn’t he fight for us?” You weep into the fabric of Robin’s shirt as she rubs your back in soothing circles.

“I don’t know, love, but he’s a fucking idiot.”

Present day

Your POV

Your issue of SPIN comes out today, and your heart is slamming in your chest in line to check out. In your hands is a copy of the magazine, a picture of Corroded Coffin plastered across the cover. Eddie’s eyes seem to glare even from the glossy paper, his arms crossed over his bare chest while the rest of his bandmates stand behind him, looking equally stoic. In the top corner of the page reads, Femme Punk Takeover: An Interview with Death Dance Approximately. You read the words over and over, refusing to spoil the spread for yourself until you’re alone and safe to scream with your friends about it.

Once you exit the store, magazine clutched in your hand, you speed walk back to the hotel you’re staying in. Today is your off day, but tomorrow you play a show on the one and only Las Vegas Strip. Your plans include celebrating the magazine spread by drinking yourselves silly.

Back in your hotel room, you kick your shoes off and fling yourself onto the bed. Robin’s out shopping with Steve, and Sylvie and Lilith are getting lunch, so you have the afternoon to yourself. Instead of diving right into your own spread, you curiously turn the pages until you find the Corroded Coffin interview. It spans four full pages, including photographs and quotes in bold, big lettering. You swear to yourself you’ll only skim, but that promise is quickly broken when you read the first sentence.

Kings of Rock, Corroded Coffin, sit uncomfortably in their folding director-esque chairs, as if sitting for an interview is the least punk thing they could be doing. Their frontman fidgets with his gleaming silver rings, his lips pressed together in concentration or annoyance.

Jessie Stevens: So, on your new album Freak Show, there’s a song titled Sweetheart. It’s far different from the rest of the tracks, a calming break before the climax of Severed Thumb and Wiped Clean. What influenced this mood change?

Eddie Munson: Sweetheart is about someone that was once very close to me. It’s about love and loss, and a whole shit ton of heartbreak, and the one person that never made me feel like, the freak, y’know?

J: Do you still talk to this person?

The frontman’s face falls a little, like he’s reminded of something upsetting.

E: It’s… complicated.

You roll your eyes. It’s not complicated, the answer is a firm no. You and Eddie don’t talk, not more than you’re forced to. You continue scanning the article, until you find something else that catches your eye.

J: You’re currently touring with Death Dance Approximately, who are quickly moving up in the world of rock. What advice would you give them as seasoned rockstars?

Munson pauses, looking at his bandmates with a question in his eyes.

E: I guess I’d tell them never to let go of themselves. I lost myself for a while, honestly I’m still pretty lost. The industry is brutal, it takes so much of your soul away from you, and if I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be not to let go of who I was. I miss that person.

You read Eddie’s answer, over and over, your eyes stinging. You miss who Eddie was, before signing, before giving in to fame and attention the way he has. Desperately, you want to believe that sweet boy is still in there somewhere. You think he is, after the events of last night, but you’re not sure how to yank him out of the steel shell he’s built around himself.

Further down, one more thing catches your attention.

J: Do you wish you’d done anything differently? Whether it be in your career, or in your life outside of it?

E: I wish I fought harder for my people. I lost someone I loved so much. I let them walk out of my life without any objection. I wish so badly that I could’ve made them stay, but… It was too late. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it.

Munson’s bandmates look to each other knowingly, clearly aware that the mysterious person he speaks of is the reason for his sour mood.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It’s barely a whisper, despite no one being in the room with you. All he had to do was ask, and you’d tell him everything. Why you left, what would’ve made you stay, but he’d rather tell the whole world he fucked up than just apologize to you.

—

Eddie’s POV

His copy of SPIN lay open in his lap as he reads the Death Dance interview. His bandmates are god knows where, enjoying their day off while Eddie mopes in his hotel room.

J: How do you guys feel about touring with one of the biggest names in rock?

Eddie rolls his eyes at the question, knowing you probably hated hearing his band brought up in your interview.

Y: I mean, we knew them growing up. It’s really cool to see them all again, and we’re honored to tour with them.

Eddie’s surprised you’d even mention knowing him at this point, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

J: You know Corroded Coffin?

Y: Yeah! I moved to Hawkins my senior year, where I met Robin, and they were all seniors. We played DnD together, made music together. We lost touch after high school, but the world is so small.

J: Is that what Indiana is about?

Y: In some respects, yeah. Indiana was a huge change from where I grew up in Boston, a much smaller, more conservative place for sure.

Eddie puts the magazine down, and reaches for his CD player. He skips to track 5, and closes his eyes as the guitars wail in his ears. He only knows parts of the song, from hearing it live when he can stomach watching your set, but somehow it feels like listening for the first time.

I’m from a city where no one knows each other / where we walk down streets avoiding eyes and shoving by / and when I moved to Indiana, I began to understand why / I wasn’t meant for smaller towns, where everyone knows my name, / but you had been there, my saving grace, / and now I miss the comfort. / I miss the sounds of singing birds, and the crackle of a fire. / I moved back to the city, and though it’s pretty, / it’s no longer what I know. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there / In the warmth of your eyes and the smell of your hair / I let myself believe I could make my life here / and when I lost you, I lost everything. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there. Indiana wasn’t home, and I lost my home there.

He plays the song four times before he can bring himself to breathe right again. Eddie can hear your heart breaking through your voice, the way it cracks on the chorus, the way you belt the final verse. All at once, he understands why you left, why you felt you had no choice. He was drowning in the pressure of being famous, leaving you behind to watch him from the shadows.

—

Your POV

You finally throw the magazine down, and rush to shower and get ready to go out. Tonight is your night off, a night to relax and not think about the boy across the hall. It’s easier said than done, though, as your mind keeps wandering to that final paragraph. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it. All he had to do was ask. You’d tell him everything; why you left, what could have gotten you to stay. But he’s been so cold, so distant with you, and you can’t really blame him. It’s just as difficult for you to be on tour with him, but you’re still trying to be mature about it.

Your spiral is disturbed by a knock on your door. You clip your earrings in and rush to answer it, smoothing your shirt to make sure you’re presentable. You open the door to Robin and Steve, their arms linked together like best friends on the playground. Both of them are dressed up, Steve in a button down and black slacks, Robin in sequined overalls that scream Vegas! They greet you with gleaming smiles, and you move aside to let them in.

“I’m almost ready! Any idea where we’re going?” You ask them both before pulling your lipstick out of your bag.

“We’re taking the strip by storm! It’s a group outing, everyone’s coming!” Robin claps her hands together

“Everyone?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at her in the mirror.

She bites her lip and glances at Steve, who only shrugs. “Yeah, Gareth and Jeff overheard us planning, and we figured some bonding was in order. But don’t worry! We can separate when we get there.”

You smack your lips together and shrug. “It’s not me you have to worry about.” You turn to face them, extending your arms to present your glammed up self. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re gonna rip Eddie’s soul out of his bod— Ow!” Steve rubs where Robin has elbowed his arm. “You look beautiful.” He recovers, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let’s get goin’ then!” Robin heaves herself off the bed, and you hold the door for her and Steve, following them out the door.

—

The casinos are the most insane thing you’ve ever experienced. The bright lights almost blind you, and the sounds of slot machines are so loud you can’t hear yourself think. It’s no wonder no one wins these things, it’s impossible to concentrate.

“C’mon!” Sylvie grabs hold of your wrist, leading you and your bandmates to the blackjack table. You glance behind you, sending a help me look to Steve, who shrugs in defeat as he follows Eddie and Jeff to the bar.

“Robin, I don’t know how to play!” You object, but she’s already sitting in a free stool by the dealer.

“No worries, babe, this is all on me. I just want you all to watch me win!” She’s buzzed, having gulped her champagne down in the car on the way here. You giggle at her confidence, knowing damn well she also has no idea how to gamble.

“Whatever you do, don’t bet our royalties.” Lilith nudges her, hiccuping on her own bubbly.

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me!” She slaps the table, and the dealer smirks like he knows he’s about to watch Robin lose all of her disposable income.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Whiskey, neat.” He orders his drink, flopping down on an empty stool. Steve sits next to him, while Jeff orders drinks for himself and Gareth. “Come hang out, man!” Jeff calls when he receives his drinks, already walking to the table his bandmates sit at with yours. Eddie nods a response, nursing his drink.

“You gotta at least try to enjoy yourself tonight.” Steve says, taking a sip of what looks like fruit punch.

“I am enjoying myself, Steven” Eddie holds up his whiskey, as if to prove the point. Steve glares at him, and Eddie takes a swig. “What?”

“You’re moping! You’re a famous rockstar on a cross country tour, and you’re moping. Had I known you were gonna be a drama queen this whole time I would’ve brought a goddamn book to read.”

Eddie groans, taking another sip. “I know, I know. I’m miserable.”

“You need to talk to them.” Steve says bluntly, not looking at Eddie.

“Why would I do that?”

“I know you want to.”

“I do not!”

Steve snorts, and Eddie presses his lips together in annoyance. “You read that interview, right?” Eddie nods. “So you know they talk about you now. You’re on their mind. You listen to the song they mentioned?” He nods again. “So you still care about what they have to say. What’s stopping you? Why are you so fucking scared?”

Eddie turns in his chair, back to where your band sits at the table, anxiously watching as Robin plays another round. Your face is pink, caused by the alcohol or the warmth of the building. Your shirt hugs your frame tightly, accentuating your features. You lift a glass of champagne to your lips, pinky extended, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim of the glass. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as your friends cheer Robin on. You have a happy glow to you, and it takes everything inside of Eddie to rip his eyes away. “What’s stopping me is the fact that they deserve better.” Eddie grumbles, gulping the rest of his liquor down and calling the bartender over. “I don’t want to ruin this for them. I’m already here, and that can’t be easy. I want them to enjoy this experience, I don’t want to intrude on it.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna drink yourself to death every time we have an outing? You think that isn’t causing them any distress? Your liver is gonna deteriorate soon, man. May wanna figure out a different strategy.”

“Will you get off my ass about drinking, Harrington? It’s rich, coming from the kid that shotgunned like sixty beers a week his freshman year of high school.”

Steve chuckles, and Eddie can’t hide the grin creeping onto his face. “Fair enough. But that was high school. I didn’t have a billion fans relying on me not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah, just the six hundred Hawkins High students. Big whoop!” Eddie emphasizes his point with a show of jazz hands. “Either way. If I’m gonna talk to them, I’m gonna be drunk when I do it.” Eddie gulps down his second drink in one go, feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in.

“Whatever, dude. You wanna go play some cards?” Steve offers his hand, and Eddie takes it begrudgingly, yanking himself away from the bar and into the mass of the crowded casino. He’s forced to squeeze by you, apologizing under his breath as he brushes against your back, sidestepping between the tables. You don’t seem to notice. He takes his place next to Gareth, and Steve stands firmly between him and you, a bridge neither of you dare to cross. Eddie feels your eyes on him, and it takes everything inside of him not to look back. Instead, he’s dealt into the next hand, planning only to play one round as a distraction from your presence. The waiter drops off another round of drinks, and Eddie slaps his palm on the table. “Deal me in.”

—

“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve yanks on an objecting Eddie’s arm, hauling him away from the table. He’s already lost a good chunk of change, both at the table and to the expensive drinks he’s been gulping down. Despite his objections, Steve manages to drag Eddie out of the casino unscathed.

“Here,” Steve sticks a cigarette between Eddie’s lips and lights it for him. “Sober up a little.”

Eddie plucks the lit stick from his mouth and exhales, the cool night air bathing his warm face.

“Where,” Eddie’s eyes are glassy, his vision blurring as he takes in his surroundings.

“We’re outside the casino. Waiting for the car.” Steve lights a cigarette for himself, inhaling as Eddie does the same.

“Where’s Y/n?” He realizes suddenly that he hasn’t seen you in hours.

“Back at the hotel. They left a while ago, but you didn’t want to get up. Sometime around your fourth hand, when you accused the dealer of cheating.” Eddie looks down at his feet, seeing four of them, and hums in response. “They told me to make sure I get you home safe.”

He looks back up to his friend, cautiously optimistic. “They said that?”

Steve nods, a smirk on his face. “Told me they’d kick my ass if anything happened to you. So I’m keeping my promise.” The car pulls up, and Steve opens the door for Eddie. “C’mon, in ya go.”

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed as the car starts moving, promising himself he won’t throw up on Steve. He thinks of all the ways he could possibly tell you he’s sorry, how he could start to mend the wounds he’s caused you. He’s going to, he decides, as soon as he can manage to walk on his own.

—

Your POV

There’s a banging on your hotel room as you’re clawing your way out of your clothes. You pull your big t-shirt on, pause Breaking The Girl, and rush to answer it. You’re expecting room service with some wine, or Steve with tomorrow’s game plan. “Coming!” You call, finally opening the door, only to be greeted by Eddie’s wobbly figure. “Oh. Hi.” You look at his nose as you speak, afraid of what would happen if your eyes were to meet his. His face is flushed from the drinking, his eyes glazed over and his hair frizzy.

“Hi. Bad time?” He looks you up and down, causing your cheeks to warm despite your blood running cold. You realize now that the shirt you’re wearing is one that once belonged to him. “I’ll, uh, go. I can um… I’ll come back later.” His speech is slurring, and you can smell the alcohol as he speaks.

“No!” You say, too quickly. “It’s okay, I’m just getting ready for bed. You wanna come in?”

Eddie hesitates, but you step aside to let him enter. He stumbles forward, placing himself gingerly in the chair across from the bed, where you sit across from him, acutely aware of your current pantsless state. “I read the interview.” Eddie starts, looking at the floor. You cross one leg over the other, waiting for him to continue. “And I’ve been listening to the album. Your album, I mean. It’s great, by the way, really fucking great.” He won’t look at you, instead focused on fiddling with his rings. You don’t respond, unsure where he’s going. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen. This was the furthest thing from what you were expecting. “For what?”

Eddie slides further into the chair. “Everything. I’ve been such an asshole since the tour started. Especially to you. I wanna say I didn’t mean it, but I did. I wanted to hurt you. Flirting with all those girls, playing that fuckin’ song in front of you. I meant all of it.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You doubt Eddie will even remember this conversation tomorrow, so you refuse to let his words convince you of anything. You don’t answer, just blink at him as he continues searching for the words to explain himself.

“I was trying to ignore it, I guess. How I felt about seeing you again. I was hiding it, and probably really poorly. I can't imagine it’s been easy for you, either, but you seem so happy. And it’s made me realize how horrible I’ve been.” He looks up from the floor then, his eyes searching yours for an answer. His face is flushed, his hair disheveled, and his lips are set in the pout that always got your heart stalling.

You clear your throat quickly, knowing it will crack under the pressure otherwise. “Eddie, it’s not your fault. You didn’t force this tour to happen. It’s an unfortunate coincidence.” He winces at your words, and you rush to correct yourself. “I mean, we didn’t know we’d see each other like this. We weren’t prepared. The way you’ve been acting, though hurtful, is completely understandable.” You want to cry. You want to throw Eddie out of your hotel room so you can sob into your pillow. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks after a long moment of silence. “What happened to us?”

You know he’s drunk, and you shouldn’t be indulging him, but you’ve wanted to say so much to him since breaking it off, and you’re still a bit tipsy. “I was losing you. To groupies, to the label, to whatever you had become, and I didn’t think it was fair to fight it. This is all you’ve ever wanted, all we ever talked about when we were together. And you got it! The only thing you ever wanted. And I am beyond proud of you, Eddie. Who was I to pull you away from it? I couldn’t hold you back from this, but I couldn’t live in the background either. I couldn’t make you choose between me and your dream, so I chose for you.” Your voice falters as you explain, eyes threatening to spill the tears they harbor. “You deserve everything you ever want, Ed. I truly believe that.” You don’t tell him you still wish he wanted you.

Eddie is less than graceful in his response. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over again, Y/n. I wish I hadn’t made you feel like you were my backup, my plan B. I lost sight of us, I know that now.” You sigh, your heart breaking as he speaks. Years ago, it’s all you wanted to hear. But it’s too little, too late now. “It got to my head, having you and getting signed. I felt like I could have it all. It got overwhelming, and I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. You were right to leave, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I blamed you for my misery when I caused all of it myself.”

You get up from the bed, and approach Eddie, kneeling beside the chair so he’s forced to look at you. “I appreciate the apology, Ed. I know you mean it. But I needed to leave for my own sake, too. I couldn’t keep competing with you, with all of the attention you were getting. I needed to focus on my own dreams, and I couldn’t convince you to root for me the way I had for you. Now that I’m here, I’m glad it happened this way. I wouldn’t have gotten here any other way.” You rest your hand on his knee, and you feel a drop fall from his cheek onto your finger. “You’ll always be special to me. I need you to know that.”

Eddie nods, sniffling. You stand up and offer him your hand. He takes it hesitantly, and you feel the familiarity of his calloused fingers entwined with yours. You can’t bring yourself to let go as he gets to his feet, missing the way his skin feels on yours. “Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” You lead him out of your room and down the hall. “You got your key?”

Eddie clumsily pats his many pockets before finding his key card in his vest. He swipes it, and you pull him into the messy room, the bed unmade, empty beer bottles lining the nightstand and entertainment center. Eddie collapses onto the bed, and you get to work yanking his shoes off the way you used to after a long night out. He’s still in his jeans, but you don’t make a move to take them off. He’s not yours to take care of anymore, and if he wakes up uncomfortable, it’s not your problem. “Okay. Goodnight, Eddie.” You’re about to leave when you hear him whisper something. “What was that?” You don’t want to believe what you think you heard, but he says it again, clearer this time. “I’d still choose you.” You press your lips together, stifling your sobs as you close the door behind you. You can’t bring yourself to believe him.

—

chapter viii

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[muzansslxt]

On Your Knee’s

Priest Douma x Fem Reader

Warnings: dubcon, blood play, gore, religious trauma.

An:Thank you to everyone who voted! Get ready for spiceee😘

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There it was.

A rather large wooden church with beautiful stained glass windows sat in silence at the end of the dirt road you had been travelling on.

Night was almost upon you, the sun slowly dissipating behind the trees bringing out shadows and strange noises that you were not accustomed to.

You clutched the small silver crucifix that hung around your neck and closed your eyes, praying.

“There is no god.”

The sudden voice startled you, your eyes flying wide open, preparing to see who it was that dared to mock your faith.

Nothing.

You turned in all directions, to try and catch a glimpse of something but you were met with silence and the ever darkening sky.

Hurrying along the path, you felt as if there was someone behind you.

The hairs on your neck began to stand up with unease as you began to run to the church, believing there was sanctuary inside.

Panting you open the doors and shut them heavily behind you, your chest rising and falling as you surveyed the room.

There were tall black candles aglow throughout the hall, and a large painting sat on your right side.

Just the sight of it made your gut clench, it was a depiction of what hell would look like for sinners.

Shakily removing your shoes, your unease never went away.

Why was the house of god so eerie and gloomy?

“The ceremony ended hours ago miss, have you travelled far?”

The voice you heard this time was soft spoken, a friendly tone ran through it, relaxing you for the first time since you got there.

Looking up, your lips parted in surprise as well as awe.

The man before you was tall, much taller than you. He was clad in priest attire that seemed to cling to his fit figure. A large wooden crucifix rested on his chest, his hands clutched a rosary. But it was his eyes, the strange mix of bright colours didn’t sit right with you.

Maybe it was the stain glass colours reflecting off the window.

“I’m sorry father, I’m not used to travelling long distances for prayer.” You say while bowing your head respectfully.

Douma feels himself salivating at the sweet scent you give off, pure and untainted.

And he was starving.

���There’s no need to be sorry my dear, why don’t we pray together? You have come all this way after all.” He said while opening the door to the main congregation.

Douma watched you grip your crucifix tightly as your eyes seemed to be searching for something, he could taste your fear on the tip of his tongue.

Once you were sat at a pew, with your head bowed and hands clasped together, Douma took the time to take in your scent.

You could feel his gaze burning into your skin, making you feel as if you were naked.

“Amen.” You murmured softly before lifting your head, and smiled slightly at Douma in a more timid manner.

If only you knew what the demon had in store for you.

A desperate whine of pleasure echoed off the church walls, the sweet melody making Doumas cock throb underneath his robe.

He had you bent over the alter, one hand firmly gripped the back of your hair, keeping you from putting your face down.

The other hand knuckles deep in your weeping pussy.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as overwhelming pleasure filled your entire body, your legs shook as Douma curled his index against your sweet spot.

“Such a pretty sinner~” he cooed to you, leaning down and kissing along the nape of your neck, grazing your flesh with needle sharp teeth.

You chocked on a moan in response as your legs buckled suddenly, it was amusing to Douma, to see you in such a hysterical state.

Wrapping one strong arm around your waist and the other holding your torso, a hand fondling your soft breast, he kept you pressed tight to him so you couldn’t fall or squirm away.

“You have such a cute little pussy. I love how honest she is, your panties were wet as soon as you walked through the chapel doors you know~” He said calmly as he continued to assault your insides with his skilled fingers.

“Humans are so easy to manipulate, you all believe in some higher power. Do you think god will save you right now?” He sneered, using his thumb to rub agonizingly slow circles against your swollen clit.

You attempted to turn your head, but Douma was quick to push it back down with a little more force than necessary, smashing your nose into the wood.

“I-I don’t understand f-father-“ you cried as blood slowly trickled out of your nose.

Douma grinned before gripping your hair and pulled your head back so you were eye to eye.

“Of course you don’t my sweet little pet~” he cooed before leaning closer and swiped his tongue over your lips, collecting your blood.

You whimpered in confusion as you stared up at him with glossy eyes, your cheeks stained with tears and lips shiny with drool and blood from your nose.

“I’m not a priest. In fact, I’m the most unholy thing to walk the earth. Something you should be very afraid of, but instead your letting a demon defile you~”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, that couldn’t be true.

Could it?

“Get off-“ you manage to choke out, your legs feeling weak beneath your body as you tried to push at Doumas muscled chest.

The demon laughed in amusement while pinning your wrists behind your back, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your wrists.

“Ah Ah~ Leaving so soon?~ He crooned while aligning his tip with your aching hole.

“Please- Hah!~ Please don’t kill me- I taste h-horrible I’m sure-“

Douma stuffed two fingers into your mouth to shut you up before pushing the rest of his thick cock inside of your cunt, groaning softly at the tightness and pleasant warmth.

“Oh I know you taste heavenly~ Don’t try to lie about that my pet~ But if you take my cock nice and sweetly, I’ll let you live another sunrise.” He hummed while gripping the round globes of your ass, making you whimper softly.

The hot stretch of his dick seemed to make your head dizzy, you almost felt sick for a moment. But once he began a slow pace, you were able to take him better.

Sucking on the demons fingers, your eyes rolled back while whimpers and muffled moans escaped your lips, it was to much. So much more than the average human male.

“Tell me how good you’re feeling~” he whispered in your ear, his hips meeting your soft ass with each thrust. He removed his fingers from your mouth and gently tucked hair from your face but held your jaw tightly so you were forced to look at him.

“S-so good…” you reply in a small needy voice, your eyes glazed over with lust and lips heavy with drool.

“Mm! Humans are so fun to play with.” He said in a more excited tone, and held your hips tightly while his cock bullied itself against your sweet spot.

“Hah!~ Wait!~ I-I’ll cum!~” you squeal out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as the familiar euphoric wave pooled in your tummy.

Douma continued to rut himself faster inside of you, his free hand gripping the soft tissue of your breast, thumbing your perky nipple.

“Go ahead~” he purred to you with a smirk as he towered over you.

Your body arched as you covered Doumas cock with your own juices, your face flushed and body sore.

Of course Douma hadn’t finished just yet and pulled himself out of you calmly with the same smirk on his face.

“How about your other cute hole?~”

[mara-tevith-solo]

Til The End

Popped into my head and I really wish it hadn’t. So now I share it with you

Pairing: married Tech x fem Peleian Jedi reader

Warnings: might make you cry, I’m sorry

Words: 900+

Rated: 18+

Devastation.

It's the only word that fits... but it doesn't feel like enough. There is a hole in your being, a ragged, weeping tear in the very fabric of your being that he fit in perfectly. And he was gone. Completely. No chance of him popping up and explaining that it was all an elaborate prank meant to help get the Empire off your tails. No. There was nothing left of him in you but his memory, the sound of his voice, the smell of him around the Marauder that was intermingled with everything else. The blaster wound in your gut didn't hurt nearly as much, nearly enough. You felt as though you'd failed him.

You kept your sobs soft for the others' sakes, the loss of not only Tech, but also Omega hitting them just as hard. Hunter had immediately gone into Dad mode, making sure that those that remained were still breathing, but being near you hurt him. You could feel the ripples of his discomfort through the Force. You tried to keep your aura as harmless as possible, for his sake, but the strain was giving you an ocular migraine, amplified by how exhausted you already were, by how much blood you'd already lost. You barely notice as Echo kneels in front of you, leaning low into your vision, pulling your focus up from the shirt clutched in your hands and up to him out of reflex. He still didn't say anything as he smiled weakly, the expression not meeting his eyes as he sat next to you, plastering himself against your side and draping his scomp arm across your shoulders. You didn't hesitate as you curled into him, your breaths coming quick and shallow for the barest moment before you had them back under control.

He stayed with you until you finally gave in to the need for sleep, timing out your sniffles until he was sure you were out cold. "How is she?" Wrecker whispered loudly from his seat, turning the entire thing because he couldn't turn his neck. He hadn't let you try to heal the wound, he'd refused every attempt you made until Hunter had sat you down in a corner and ordered you to rest up before you hurt yourself further.

Echo glanced up at the other man as he gently laid you out on the ground, taking the opportunity to finally treat your wound. He didn't dare even jostle the shirt clutched desperately in your hands "What do you think?" He whispered with an exhausted sigh as he stood, on the hunt for what remained of the med kit. He knew that it was short of supplies, but as long as it had even one bacta pad he'd be happy as a fat Loth Cat.

"At least she's asleep." Hunter sighed, handing him the kit. He felt responsible for your pain, your devastation. He should have worked harder to keep Tech closer, safer. He shouldn't have let the team get spread out, shouldn't have let Saw... He shook the thoughts away, opting to focus on the present, not the past. They had to get Omega back.

"For now." Echo sighed before he made his way back to you. He had to cut part of your shirt away, the section that the bolt had hit had fused with your skin "Karking hells." He hissed, not angry with the wound but it was going to have to be a serviceable outlet, so help him Abeloth. He ignored that the pieces he was carefully cutting away were still wet with blood, ignored how warm the wound still was "I've seen what losing a loved one does to a Jedi, Hunter. And I've heard what happens to Peléians that lose their Mate. She's not goin'a be herself for a long while." His warning was thick in the air, as though they didn't have enough to worry about.

"We'll deal with that when she wakes up." Hunter sighed as you softly sobbed and sniffled in your sleep, clutching the shirt tighter to your chest. You were reliving the nightmare over and over, just as helpless to save him every time. Just as useless. Echo said nothing as he continued, just humming that tune that you hummed to Omega when she was having trouble sleeping or was upset with something. Your breath was still stuttered, but you calmed marginally. He'd heard you explain to her once that it was tune your mother sang to you before she gave you to the Order, and though you'd long since forgotten the words, the tune still brought you comfort, that you were happy it did the same for her.

He knew that you and Tech were both considering starting a family of your own, after the move to Pabu, the stability and distinct lack of stress that it brought. The community that had enveloped the five, sometimes six, of you. Tech had once confided in him that he was enamored with how good you were with Omega, how the bond between you and the child had awoken something... wanting in him. He was heartbroken for you, that that future would no longer be yours.

When he was done treated your wound as best as he could, he covered you with Tech's blanket and left you to sleep, staying close by to keep an eye and an ear on your continued sniffles. He watched as you turned and curled up on your side, burying your nose into the blanket subconsciously, curling protectively around the secret that you had once been all too excited to share. Now you had to face it without him, without him knowing...       

[hailtothemightystarwarrior]

Adeleine blushed deeper, tears forming in her eyes. Her heart sank deep and her stomach feels like it’s filled with butterflies.

But getting a little closer, Daroach would be able to hear little sniffs and hiccups; it was probable the girl was trying not to cry.

“…Oh, Poor Child, You Look Terrible. Tsk Tsk Tsk, what's wrong, my dear?"

“Oh, what a stupid girl I am,” Adeleine wailed softly to no one in particular. “I’ve made a terrible mess of myself. I should’ve known what my parents would do such a thing”. The Poor little girl Curled up And Cried.

“Oh, darling…”daroach Puts his hand on her shoulder .he'd genuinely upset his friend by trying to help, and immediately looked guilty. his emotions were filled with empathy for his Lady Love, seeing adeleine upset and having no idea how to help her.

Now She’s Crying, blaming herself, utterly breaking his heart. there had to be something he could do for her...

Without another word, daroach crouched down and stepped behind Adeleine and hugged her from behind, As Tight As His Heart Can Bury. He gently rubbed Adeleine’s tummy, trying to help her the best way the gray squeaker knew how with his poetic words and gentle touch."A-Adeleine...? P-Please don't cry, i-it's all right..." daroach had a wonderful touch, tender and soothing.He Knows Affection Is The Key.

daroach Hears The Cries Of The girl,fairly humming soothingly as he gently held Adeleine close, kissing her on the forehead and smiling down at her,stroking her hair.he would do anything to not bruise his peach.

“There, there, little one…there’s no need to cry…” He whispered softly, stroking the skirt of Her Dress. “I know, but I- I- I just can’t help myself” Adeleine weeped, Pressing Her Face Into His Chest. He instinctively held her closer, cradling her protectively, clutching her close to his heart.He Drew Out A Handkerchief And gently Dabbed It To The girl's Tears. Adeleine sigh shyly as he dried her eyes.

she was Looking At him With Wide, Heartbroken Eyes and her hands on her heart with the Handkerchief. That Sent A Needle Of Guild Twisting Into His Chest. This Shows daroach That She’s So Adorable When She Cries. daroach Smiled And Nodded At Her, rubbing her under her chin and kissed her tearstained cheek,which gave her another sniffle And A Loud Hiccup.

“Goodness!” she squeaked shyly, Turning Scarlet. “Pardon me!”.A funny feeling came over to Adeleine then, a cramping sensation in her lower belly that seemed to need immediate attention, and poor Adeleine suddenly realized that something terrible was about to happen with that curious feeling. “Oh dear,” she sighed. daroach seemed to notice the cramp from the way Adeleine was sitting. It Cause Daroach kneading his head to the shoulder of the weeping girl. , nuzzling up to her cheeks while Making loving circles in her tummy. Oh, how sweet of him! They Both Make A Slight Soft Noise As They Pressed Together. She felt her heart twist when they pressed. Which Actually Felt Quite Nice, Like It Was Its Own Form Of Closeness, In A Way.

"I'm sorry...I get scared a lot lately..." she apologized, blushing and pouted suddenly; the expression was at once comical and adorable upon her innocent, childlike face. " but I wish I wouldn't be. I didn't think I would have to... oh dear."

“Shh-shh-shhhhh…” “Easy, love, easy…it’s all right…”

daroach seemed content he'd helped his lady avoid the painful stomach cramps.his  hand had been making gentle circles on her stomach all night.She twitched a bit under the touch. It was calming, but it tickled.A soft smile touch his face, beaming down at his beloved peach. He giggled a little at his adorable little friend's closeness. He reached over to stroke her hair and Adeleine nuzzled contentedly against the touch. She loves how gingerly he's holding and caressing her hair with his fingers,humming slightly. She looks up again and then hugs tighter. He hums a little melody, rocking her a bit in his arms."I'll protect you little one” he said with a kiss on her forehead.The feeling was almost dreamlike to her as her eyelids grew heavy.

Adeleine made a quiet, content sort of cooing noise and shut her eyes again, pressing her face into his chest.

Daroach immediately wrapped her up in a tight hug And Then carried The girl off of her feet Into His Arms. he rubs the girl’s back as she held on to him.