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mere-mortifer · 3 months ago

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♥ Sanji/Reader Rec List ♥

40+ fics & authors suggestions! Click here to view this on a separate web page for easier navigation ♥

Sometimes I’m normal about fictional characters, other times I become psycho-sexually obsessed with them and relentlessly look for fanworks where they get smooched and hugged into oblivion. And by characters I mean Sanji.

So here’s a non-comprehensive list of Sanji/Reader fics that I love, most of them rated Explicit. This got sooo long because I kept finding other works to add while scrolling through my bookmarks and reblogs, it goes to show how good the fandom is! (Assume, unless otherwise stated, that Sanji is more on the sexually submissive side, since I like what I like and seek out that dynamic specifically.)

Authors I love

I’m starting this list with a few mentions of my favorite authors, although I’m sure I’m stating the obvious with most of these and you all know them already. Who cares! Go re-read their stuff! Leave a comment! Give them your money!

1. One Piece Works by @onlymurphy

Not to fall into hyperbole, but I owe OnlyMurphy my life. If you’re here reading this list then surely you love this author already, so this a good excuse to re-read the entire Grow Old With Me series. Sanji’s characterization is top-notch, and if you enjoy explorations of his self worth issues and how they would affect an otherwise loving romantic relationship then look no further. Also the author is a very talented smut writer (very talented writer in general, make no mistake), and that's the greatest accolade I can give them. Imagine me putting a gold metal around their neck but I’m the one who's moved to tears about it.

Honorable mentions for the filthiest-yet-very-romantic works in their catalog:

🌶 Do That Again

🌶 Wildest Dreams

🌶 If I’m Lucky

2. One Piece Works by @citrinae

I’m linking the masterlist for this author ‘cause I really like all their Sanji-centric fics, and I’d love, love, love to see more. Sanji is so princely and devoted, just an absolute dream of a man, and he’s putting a lot of effort into making the reader feel loved. He gets stellar results in my opinion.

3. One Piece Works by @thus-spoke-lo (GoldExperience86 on Ao3)

There are three fics in particular by this author that I couldn’t pick a favorite from if you held me at gunpoint:

🌶 Let Me Help

🌶 Worth the Wait

🌶 Dear Diary

Have you ever read a sex scene so good you bypass getting horny and go straight into mourning, knowing you won’t be able to read it for the first time again? That has not stopped me from reading all these roughly a million times. Click on those links. Look at me in the eyes, listen very carefully: click on those links. I say this because I love you and want you to be happy.

You will find other fics by them in the rec list because 1) I couldn’t resist and 2) I’m pretty sure they have more things posted on Tumblr than Ao3, at least as separate one-shots.

4. 🌶One Piece Fics by @untolduttering

Author, I know deep in my soul that you love Sanji as much as I do. Fortunately I’m okay with sharing. If anything I'm glad I'm not alone in the trenches.

Check out all her fics and snippets, her writing is incredible and I’ve loved every single thing about Sanji she’s ever posted. Each time I open Tumblr and I see a new post by her, my day gets a little brighter. She writes one of my favorite versions of Sanji ever, insatiable and devoted and so, so hot. He couldn’t be more my type if he tried.

I want to single out her vampire!Sanji one-shot because I haven’t seen this trope used by anyone else and I liked it a lot! It fits so well, what with the theme of hunger and Sanji’s inability to ask for what he needs:

Hunger

The meta post that inspired the fic

5. One Piece Works by @fanaticsnail

Fanaticsnail, you’re the only one who has ever made me willingly click on a smut fic that involved Doflamingo just because Sanji was there, too, and I love your Sanji so damn much (p.s.: everyone go read it, 🌶 Seat Number Four).

One of their fics also appears in the Sex Pollen section, and since that one is particularly filthy let me add here two fluffy, romantic fics where Sanji is all cute and flustered by the reader:

Kiss The Cook

Your Flirty Chef

Yearning & Pining

The title of the section is pretty self-explanatory: fics where and the reader are not together, but God knows they want to.

6. 🌶 Wanting by @froggiewrites

This fic…holy shit. I’m genuinely writing this with tears in my eyes. The yearning & pining & longing mixed with the sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife makes for a truly incredible read. Only for real Sanji lovers, if you’re not nodding along at each desperate thought the reader insert has about this man then I’m sorry but you’re only a casual Sanji liker.

7. 🌶 My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand by ladyhabanera

[screaming crying throwing up] no yeah I’m very normal about this fic, I like it a totally normal amount. In the Ao3 comments I say that “Sanji is so so dreamy—a heady mix of submissive and deeply romantic”, and then if you scroll a little you find my other comment which is just me yelling in all caps at my second reread. I not only stand by both, but I’m doubling down.

8. Puzzled by @mynewblackdress

What a lovely series, and what a lovely trope…misunderstandings due to bad communication are as irritating and useless in real life as they are incredibly fun to read about. The reader is convinced that Sanji’s earnest compliments are his fucked up way of making fun of her, and it takes a while before they figure out that he means every word. Give it a read if you want a break from the sea of smut that I’ve added to this list, and you're the mood for opla!Sanji in particular.

9. Sweet Confession by @softonshanks

I have one specific weakness that I’m glad to often see in fics: Sanji getting a hug while he’s busy cooking, and he’s all cute and flustered about it because he didn’t expect the affection. And this fic has that + Sanji’s a pining mess for the reader, who he’s FWBs with despite the fact that he’s totally in love with her + she’s taller than him and he loves it. I’ve hit the jackpot. I’d love to see more Sanji fics from this author, so much so that I’m gonna ask her pretty please in Italian: Sara, ti prego, facci sognare.

10. 🌶 Your Name by @strawhatsoraya

Now, the one pining in this fic is me. Sanji and the reader are actually complete strangers, but if what appeals to you in mutual pining fics is the gut-wrenching depth of the feelings described, then I think you should check out this little one-shot. My notes on Ao3 are “Tfw when a pwp hits your id so well it bypasses making you horny and goes straight to suicidal”—do with that what you will. Also, check out the rest of this author’s fics and make a whole evening out of it.

Ft. Zoro

Get that stinky Mosshead out of my sight…no, wait, let him stay. I guess we can take turns on Sanji or something.

11. 🌶 Picture You by @froggiewrites

I don’t usually read Sanji fics where Zoro is heavily involved, but I’m glad that that didn’t stop me from clicking on this one (also, to be fair, they take turns on the reader. Well, the reader takes turns on them.) My note on the Ao3 bookmark is “God-tier sad horny Sanji characterisation”...couldn't have said it better, me from the past.

12. 🌶 Shaken Up Hearts by @lyriumcoloredskies

Okay so I lied, maybe I do like it when Zoro is heavily involved, as long as it’s a collab to team up on Sanji. Sanji gets lovingly demolished in this one, but before he gets there he’s sad like a kicked puppy about not being allowed to kiss both you and Zoro. Who am I to say no to a heavy dose of Zosan in my het Sanji smut?

13. 🌶 Nuvole e Lenzuola by redtendou

This one’s niche because it’s written in Italian. I was stunned by the author’s ability to make a graphic sex scene actually work despite Italian’s atrocious sex-related lexicon–trust me, it’s a struggle. If you’re into Zoro and the reader ganging up on Sanji and you understand Italian, definitely give it a read.

Spa day for the soul

Fics where you take care of Sanji, or Sanji takes care of you, or where there are actual spa activities thrown into the mix. God knows this man needs some TLC once in a while.

14. 🌶 My Pampered Prince by @sheerxfiction

It’s Sanji’s turn to spend some time flat on his back on the kitchen table–it’s what he deserves. If you’re craving a brilliant smutty fic where Sanji gets pampered then you've foudn it, the reader take really good care of him in this one–and I have to give bonus points for the heavy dose of Sanji’s self-worth issues and the readersinsert fighting back against his refusal to get taken care of. Get loved, idiot.

15. 🌶 Shower Time by @chibieggplant

Cute, hot, sexy–I’m talking both about the writing and Sanji in this fic. He takes a shower with the reader and spends the entire time in disbelief that he gets to tenderly wash her body, feeling quite embarrassed by how into it he is, despite the fact that this an established relationship fic. And that’s how I like my boys!

16. 🌶 Vinsmoke Sanji: Not all Men are Rats by livingonadaydream

I love, love, love fics where Sanji gets pampered…but it doesn’t hurt to read the complete opposite once in a while. A very sweet Sanji makes sure that the reader gets a very happy ending.

First Time

We'll never know the canonical sexual history for any One Piece characters because Oda is, unfortunately, a coward. However I'm not surprised that Sanji is considered by many the most virgin to have ever virgined in the history of virginity—so here's a list of fics where you pop his cherry. Be delicate, please...he's very sensitive.

17. 🌶 Say When by @venomatically

This one has to be the first I tell you about. If you go check the comments on Ao3 you’ll find me absolutely losing my mind after my first read, and there’s no quick comment I can add here to fully explain how much I love this author, her writing, and–Good Lord in Heaven–the way she writes Sanji. He’s a virginal pervert. He’s got that dog in him and it happens to be a cute little puppy. He’s so sweet and adoring he can’t bear to tell you how often he thinks about fucking you. I need someone to invent him in real life, it’s not even funny anymore. (Also, if you like to see Sanji actually get a little depraved, check out her other fic, too: 🌶 Letting Off Steam)

18. 🌶 Lust by @tetzoro

Ooh, this one’s hot. It starts so poetic and romantic, but as Sanji loses himself in the feeling the descriptions get more carnal. I love his POV here. Also it involves one of my favourite things ever: the readers starts on top but when it gets too good Sanji can't resist and he flips her over to do all the work himself. Who else cheered?

Sex Pollen

While writing this rec list I realized I have at least four sex pollen fics where Sanji eats something he shouldn’t and then…I wanna say “regrets it”, but the consequences are that he has hot sweaty sex with someone he’s really into. If he were to notice the trend I think he might start putting the wrong thing in his mouth on purpose.

19. 🌶 It’s a what flower?! by @sanjifucker42069

From the blog name alone I knew I’d found a kindred spirit. They have written for both the animanga and OPLA, and to be honest it’s hard for me to pick a favorite work. That’s a lie, this one’s my favorite. The author has a great sense of humor, and this fic in particular is both very funny and incredibly hot. I love how desperate and pathetic Sanji gets, and how hard the reader insert is trying to keep things PG before it becomes obvious they just have to fuck! Good problems to have if you ask me.

20. 🌶 a fever you can't sweat out by @cryocandy

I remember reading this one day right before work. My shift was about to start, and I was sitting by myself in the car reading the smoking hot sex scene for no good reason at all, ensuring that I wouldn't be able to focus on anything productive for the rest of the day. Sanji in this fic is so dreamy and cute and pathetic, all qualities enhanced greatly by the amazing writing. If you don’t think you like fuck-or-die fics, do yourself a favour and read this one anyway.

21. 🌶 Needy Boy by @maddddstuff

My note on Ao3 for this one was “Single-handedly made me into spanking btw, if you even care”, and I stand by it. He’s the one that gets spanked by the way, in case someone was in doubt.

22. 🌶 Someone Help Me by @fanaticsnail

Sanji’s a mess in this one. A total and complete mess, and I loved every word of it–also, since in the first part Sanji is struggling against the effects of the sex pollen all on his lonesome, this fic might also appeal to my fellow Sanji whump fans.

Dom!Sanji & Co.

Just because I have a preference for Sanji being a sub it doesn’t mean I will scoff at fics where he’s more dominant in bed. Here are the ones I stumbled upon that I’ve really liked! (Also I’m using the term “dominant” very loosely here, in some of these fics he’s simply more assertive in bed.)

23. Too Much (Take Me Home) by @secretwritingspot

This is THEE dom!Sanji series for me. There’s no sex in it, it’s more of an exploration of the sub/Dom dynamic and why someone would crave submitting to another person. Sanji finds himself in the dominant role with little warning, but he’s damn great at it in his usual adoring and tender way. I’m linking the first fic of the series, but the author has written more for this scenario!

24. 🌶 Leg Day by 1LucaCola1

The title says it all; fantastic premise for a smoking hot pwp fic. If I had the opportunity to train and make good use of Sanji’s expertise, I’d also push myself too far until my legs were shaking, and then let him do other things to me to make the shaking even worse.

25. 🌶 very professional nights by @missfrustration

Ugh, I love this one! Sanji is your superior at the Baratie, and he’s so very stern with you until he isn’t at all. Love the bait and switch of a Sanji whose professionalism makes him act a little cold when clients’ satisfaction is on the line but simply melts when he’s alone with the reader. And everything he ends up doing to the reader in this fic, I’d hardly call a punishment.

26. 🌶 Doodled Hearts by Twisted_Inkwell

Soft dom Sanji fucks you hard but he’s sweet talking to you in French the whole time. I don’t know what else to add to convince you to read this one, that should be plenty.

In the kitchen

To fuck the cook, you’ll have to look for him in his natural habitat. Then you can proceed to ruin the kitchen table for everyone else.

27. 🌶 Midnight Snack by BombasticBastard

This fic is a part of a Sanji/Reader/Zoro series, but I’m linking Part 2 where it’s just you and our lovely boy. As the title says, the reader is craving a midnight snack and goddamn, she gets the best one the Sunny’s pantry has to offer. This could also go in the Dom!Sanji category because he quite literally talks you through it, as the kids say nowadays, but he also showers the reader in compliments & he confesses his love, so overall he’s too much of a big ol’ softie to call him dominant in any way.

28. 🌶 All It Takes by mooseskulls

Reader catches Sanji being the pervert that he is, stolen underwear and badly-hidden moans included. This one has both a gender neutral version and a transmasc!reader one, I thought that was lovely–this way lots of different people can enjoy the “getting bent over the kitchen counter” scenario.

29. 🌶 Compliments to the Chef by @tigreblue

The Author says this is their first fic–if that’s the case, they’ve got a bright future ahead of them. We all know Sanji doesn’t easily accept love and gratitude, but some good ol’ finger-sucking ought to convince him. Things degenerate beautifully from there.

Dark(er)

By darker I mean that I’m adding here fics where Sanji is something other than an absolute sweetheart. You’ll understand how actually dark any of these fics are from my comments and the authors’ tags, but they all have the general vibe of “Sanji is a sleazy pervert” in varying degrees of illegality.

30. 🌶 appetite by @groubee

Ooh…this one’s fucked up. Sanji is an unreliable narrator that makes non-con somnophilia sound kinda cute, actually (it really isn’t.) In his defense he’s written as some sort of incubus-slash-sex-demon. The author doesn’t go into detail but they don’t need to, it’s all about the sickly sweet mood (emphasis on sickly) of a tender lover who’s also a horrible, horrible person.

31. 🌶 Letting Off Steam by @venomatically

He’s a freak in this one, but he’s soooo nice about it and he’s soooo thankful that you’re letting him be a complete pervert who can get away with waking you up by stroking his cock over your face.

32. 🌶 Smile for the Camera by @thus-spoke-lo

This one broke my heart and turned me on at the same time, I give it a full five stars. It’s a short and sweet one-shot where Sanji breaks down all your walls and then does the same to your trust in men…enjoy!

33. 🌶 Compliments to the Chef by @thus-spoke-lo

I realize only now that this fic and Smile for the Camera are by the same author. That’s not gonna stop me from reccing this little series, too–in the notes on Tumblr you can see that this was written for a “sleazeball collab”, which should tell you something about Sanji’s characterization. While reading this I felt like that lady in the comic about sexual harassment on the workplace…like yeah maybe I would be okay with it if the guy was hot enough. And by workplace I mean a shitty restaurant, and by guy I mean Sanji in the role of the line cook who smokes too much and is very transparent about wanting to bang you on the counter where lunch service is prepared.

34. 🌶 Use me by moosetracksandscenechanges

This fic! My God! I’m adding it here not because there are hard kinks or morally dubious dynamics between the characters, but I still think it fits. It has its sad moments due to a generally darker atmosphere and a more aloof version of Sanji (not that aloof, still recognisably himself)...but also he willingly gets tied to a bed. Sub Sanji lovers stay winning. My hopeless romantic heart hopes that Sanji and the reader will actually get together, but there’s a lot to love about the fwb dynamic they’ve got going on right now. A bittersweet read in the best way.

35. Conjugate the Ways by @secretwritingspot

Oh, Sanji has a foul mouth in this one, but he’s speaking French so he’s forgiven…also the reader has no idea what the hell he’s saying to her. It’s creepy in a cute way! The fic doesn’t include actual smut, it’s just Sanji fantasizing out loud about the things he wants to do with you, but if you’re in the mood for some good ol’ sexual tension, give it a read.

36. 🌶 Ma chérie by marriedtosanji

He lied to you! About being French, of all things! I would never forgive him. He’s really good in bed though, so he makes up for it. The smut here is so delightful it does a 180% and goes back to breaking my heart over the fact that I’ll never meet a cute stranger in a bar who wants to seduce and is also Mr. Sanji Onepiece himself.

Voyeurism

I swear this isn’t even in my top 10 kinks, I guess that Sanji’s character simply inspires a lot of authors to put him in situations where he’s staring. Watching. Ogling. Observ–you’ve got the gist of it.

37. “It’s entirely too obvious [...]” by @ofallthingsnasty

[giggling and kicking my feet] the reader makes Sanji sweat cold in this one…I love when he’s nervous, I love when he’s desperate for forgiveness! He doesn’t do anything bad, but the fic is all about him watching the reader eat and obviously liking it a bit too much. The mood is suggestive but overall it stays pretty innocent until the end.

38. 🌶 Voyeurs by snackshack

Thank you Zoro and Nami for your help in making this happen, we couldn’t have done it without you. Sanji and the reader are in a freak4freak relationship, a match made in Heaven. Very good smut and a delicious premise!

39. 🌶 Perversion by glossyjoonie

@Sanji: babygirl you suck ♥ Short and sweet fic part of a larger collection (there are other Sanji-focused chapters, check out those ones, too!) where Sanji gets caught spying on all his favourite ladies: Nami, Robin, and you. Robin sticks around for a while in this one, but in the end the reader is the one who shows Sanji what happens to boys who misbehave.

40. 🌶 Just Between Us by @mytanuki-kun

This man is always spying on you in the shower, in bed, from behind a bush or whatever…it’s about time he gets a taste of his own medicine. I adore this fic, I remember reading the first chapter and hoping the author would update as soon as possible because I was hooked. Sanji catches you ogling him in secret and he plays into it cause he’s a horny bastard and the love of my life. The writing is incredible and Sanji’s characterization is so, so dreamy and sexy and adorable.

That’s all, folks. You have enough material to survive a nuclear war, you can spend many happy decades closed in your bunker eating canned food and reading reader insert One Piece fanfiction.

My final, desperate request is this one: does anyone have the link to a Sanji fic where he’s 40 years old and he hired a babysitter (you) for his kid, but then one night the kid is somewhere else and you two end up hooking up? Please? Pretty please? I think it was part of a collection or series but I can’t find it anywhere!

#sanji/reader #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji/reader rec list #sanji/reader fics #sanji fanfic #one piece reader insert

332 notes · View notes

measuredingold · 1 year ago

Note

hi, angel <33 back with a request! also also no pressure at all ofc, if you’re not vibing with it just delete 🥰

just had a lil fluff idea, friends to lovers type beat. reader is on tour with the band, tagging along as a friend when she’s out late one night with the guys, gets a lil drunk/tipsy and ends up in the wrong bunk. (Noah’s.) he didn’t go out, he went to bed early. she doesn’t realize and she’s like “what are you doing in my bed?”

neither of them end up moving, and it doesn’t help that she’s a cuddly drunk. plus, he has a hard time saying no to you 🥺💗

anyway, do with that what you will 💖

just friends

authors note: thank you so much lovely anon for requesting this! i enjoyed writing this and kind of want to take it further, but i'm not sure? :) anyways, i hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3 reminder that my requests are open! also, happy birthday noah :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff (like tooth-rotting fluff imo), friends to lovers, confessions/admission of feelings, drinking/reader is drunk, 18+ minors do not interact

"Easy there, girl."

You giggled as Nicholas helped you onto the bus, his hands pressed against the small of your back to keep you in place. You didn't even mean to drink this, usually not one to do so, but after Folio had challenged you to see how many shots you could take in under a minute you had to prove to him that it definitely was more than two. Now here you were, giggling obnoxiously to yourself as Nicholas guided you onto the bus, feet tripping over one another.

"Nick," You hum, eyes squinting around the bus. "Is the room spinning?"

"It very much is not. You," A finger pressed to your forehead, and you barely registered that Nicholas was now in front of you, a smile tugging at his lips, "are very much drunk, though. Come on, let's get you to bed. Go change and I'll get you some water and Tylenol for that headache that should be kicking in... now."

You go to retort, but there was already a dull pain in the back of your head causing you to wince. Your headaches came a lot earlier when you drank, not waiting until the morning to hit. You give him a grateful smile when he hands you your bag you kept above one of the seats up front, knowing your drunk ass could not get that even if you tried your hardest, and you pulled out a change of clothes and made your way back to the very small, and very tight bathroom.

You change, clumsily, and shuffle your way back to the front of the bus where Nicholas was waiting for you. You take the Tylenol and bottle of water gratefully, swallowing down the medicine in one go. You take a few more sips of water, realizing just how thirsty you were before deciding you were good to go, twisting the cap back on a tossing it onto the couch.

“Good?” You nod, giving Nicholas a thumbs up in response. He smiles. “Alright. I’m gonna meet back up with guys, but Noah’s still here.”

Your brows furrow for a moment before you remember that Noah is still on the bus, opting out of going out with you and the crew after tonight’s show. You give Nicholas another nod as your response.

“If you need anything, just wake Noah up. He’ll get you whatever you need.” He leans forward now, tipping his head down to press his lips to your forehead, and you smile brightly up at him when he pulls away. “And if he doesn’t, hit ‘em upside the head and then call me.”

You laugh, “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I need anything. I’m drunk, not injured.”

He rolls his eyes at you before you gently shove him away, pushing him towards the door. You say your goodbyes and watch the door shut behind Nicholas, leaving you to stand alone in the front of the bus all by yourself. You stay put for a second, the dizziness coming back before a yawn rips from you, and you decide to finally shuffle your way towards the bunks.

All you needed was your favorite blanket and your bunk, and that duck squishmallow Noah had gotten you a few months ago. It’s quiet and you think Noah’s probably asleep already, and you yawn again as you finally reach your bunch, pulling the curtain back. You stare quizzically, though, at the man curled up in your bunk, and he stares right back, brows raised and just as confused.

"What the hell are you doing in my bunk?"

Noah blinks at you before pulling his airpods out, a brow raised. "What?"

"I said," You let go of the curtain to place a hand on your hip. "What the hell are you doing in my bunk, Davis?"

He stares at you for a beat before his lips slowly start curling into a smile.

"How drunk are you?" Noah squints at you.

"Why does that matter?" You argue, words slurring slightly. "I'm drunk and you're in my bunk. Two very obvious and true things. Now answer my question."

Noah snorts out a laugh. "You're right about one thing, you definitely are drunk. This is my bunk, though."

If you were sober, you would realize that yes, he was right. This was definitely not your bunk, yours was right below his, but for some reason in your drunk and hazy mind you were sure that this was your bunk. It looked just like it - just like the rest of the damn bunks on this bus - so it had to be true. You purse your lips, arms crossing over your chest.

“Very funny, Noah. Now get out, I’m tired and want to go to sleep.”

“I’m not moving.” He says more firmly, eyes narrowing at you. “This is my bunk, yours is over there.”

You turn as he points to the bunk across from his, the curtains drawn, and you squint. You look back at him, then back at the other bunk, and a voice in the back of your head is telling you that he was right. That was your bunk, not the one Noah was currently occupying. None of your stuff is there, your pillow isn’t even there, but for some reason the drunk – and very stubborn – part of you was firm on your stance.

Noah was in your bunk.

You turn back to him, arms still crossed over your chest, and you square your shoulders. “I’m just gonna climb up if you’re not moving, dude. So, either get out or we’re cuddle buddies for the rest of the night.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you see the exact where Noah’s shoulders drop, realizing there’s no point in arguing with you because you are right (no, you’re not) and he sighs deeply, though you barely catch the slight curl of his lips.

“Whatever. Get in.”

You climb into the bunk beside Noah, slowly because you knew in your inebriated state that was a disaster waiting to happen, and the boy sighs to himself again, rolling onto his side and pressing his back against the wall to make room for you. You roll onto your side, back facing Noah, and press against him. It wasn't hard to do with how tight the space was, and you hummed to yourself when you finally got comfortable enough to relax, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

"Comfy?" You hear Noah murmur behind you.

You nod, "Very."

"Good."

You feel him shift behind you and if you had been sober, maybe the thought of being so close to him would have your skin blazing, but as your thoughts swirl, the only thing you can really think is how nice he feels pressed against you and how comfortable you are. His arm slings over your waist underneath the blanket and you swear he pulls you closer to him, if that was possible. A pleased sigh escapes him, the air fanning over the back of your neck. Now that has your body firing up, tiny goosebumps scattering across your skin. You melt against him.

"Why didn't you go out?" You ask through a yawn, eyes fluttering.

"Didn't want to."

"Why not? Everyone else did."

"Just wasn't in the mood," He mumbles behind you, his breath fanning against the back of your neck again. "Cold? You got goosebumps.”

You shake your head but feel Noah pull you closer anyways, sweatpant covered legs slipping in between yours. His limbs snake around yours and practically confines you, locking you against him. You're finding out that you like it way more than you probably should for a friend, but the drunken haze of your mind doesn't care too much about the technicalities of it all.

"Did you miss me?" You ask after another beat of silence, and you feel Noah's body tense behind you.

“…Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe."

You pause. "Is that why you're in my bunk right now? Because you missed me?"

Noah lets out a groan and you can't help but smirk, soft giggles escaping you. You feel his hand move down to your hip, pushing your shirt up slightly to pinch at your skin playfully and you squeal, squirming against him. You barely move because this six-three, giant man has you tight in his grasp, and you feel his chest move against your back with his laughter.

"Oh my fucking god," He grumbles into your hair, but you hear the smile in his voice. "Go to sleep. Please."

"I'm trying." You whine out, eyes slipping shut at the feeling of his hand now spreading out against your tummy, rubbing soothing circles there. "My head hurts too much."

"Did you take anything?"

"Mhm." You hum. "Nicholas gave me some Tylenol and water before he met back up with the guys."

"You drink all the water?"

You shrug. “Maybe like half?”

"Good enough for me." You feel the brush of his lips against the back of your neck and your eyes spring open, freezing in his hold. "You just need to relax. It should start kicking in soon."

You don't say anything, hyper-focused on the way his lips felt against your skin and the way you liked it too much. Even in your inebriated state you knew what that meant, and maybe you always had, but was just too scared to even think of the possibility. You and Noah were just friends... who sometimes teetered the line between friends and something else. It went unspoken for as long as you could remember, and you're not sure why you never said anything.

You don't know if it's the alcohol, or if you're finally sobering up, but your stomach turns at the thought. Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't he say anything? You feel dizzy again, and there's a voice in the back of your head trying to tell you to shut up and sleep but you've never been a good listener, even to yourself, and your lips move before you can think twice about it.

"Noah." Your voice is hushed and the feel of his fingers rubbing circles against your bare hip as your head spinning more than it probably should be right now.

"Hm?"

"You do realize friends don't do this, right?"

It takes him a moment to reply, "Do what?"

"This."

You feel more sober than you did five minutes prior. You're aware of everything - where you are, who you're with, who you're pressed against. Noah lets out a sigh and you feel him nose at your shoulder, a shiver running through your body at the feeling.

"You know we’ve never exactly been just friends."

You can't believe he had just said that as your eyes almost bulge right out of your head, and you try to turn in his arms so that you can face him.

"Noah-"

His grip only tightens on you, and you can't move, stuck where you are, and you hear him huff out a laugh before saying, "Nope. No way. We’re not having this talk right now when you’re drunk as shit, and we’re trapped in this glorified death box. Go to sleep.”

"But-"

"If you remember this in the morning, then ask me again." You feel his lips move against the back of your neck and you shiver again, squirming against him.

"I will." You finally whisper after two beats of silence, trying to settle back against his chest. "I'll ask you tomorrow."

He presses another kiss to the back of your neck and your entire body flushes, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Okay."

You both lay in silence and it's not long for sleep to find you, body finally relaxing after the long night.

…

You wake some hours later, groaning quietly as you lifted your head up from the pillow. You blink blearily around you before rubbing at your eyes, trying to rid them of sleep as last night’s shenanigans flooded your brain. With another groan you roll onto your back and stare up at the top of the bunk, picking a part your memories.

Going out with the guys, taking way too many shots with Folio, Nicholas having to walk you back to the bus, the Tylenol, Noah… Your mind pauses at the thought of the male, and you realize you’re in the bunk alone. You remember everything clearly, from arguing with him about how this was your bunk – it in fact very much was not – from climbing into said bunk and cuddling with him. You remember him saying that the two of you have never been just friends but refused to elaborate.

If you remember this in the morning, then ask me again.

The bus is quiet, the only sound you hear are Jolly’s snores coming from below you, and the soft sound of the bus’s engine running. You were most likely on your way to the next city. You’re sure Noah’s already up, probably in the front working away on his laptop, and you peel his blanket off your body and do your best to get down from his bunk.

You find him where you expected him, beanie on top his head and hoodie wrapped around his body, headphones on as he typed away at his laptop. You’d make a joke about him always working, but you’re only thinking of one thing right now.

You come stand in front of him and he notices you almost instantly, pushing his headphones off his head as he stares up at you.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

You blush, eyes dropping for a moment as your arms come to cross over your chest.

“What did you mean last night?” You blurt out.

Noah pauses but his eyes never leave you, and you watch as he slips his computer off his lap and into the seat next to him. He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees.

“Ask me again.”

“No, I’m not-“ You huff out a groan and brush your fingers through your hair, wincing a bit at the knots that caught between your hands. “I’m not playing that game, Noah. What did you mean we’ve never exactly been just friends?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” He leans back against the couch now, arms crossing over his chest. “And you know I’m right.”

Your heart hammers against your chest and all you can do is nod at his words, cheeks flushing with color. He was right. You two have never been just friends, too close, too touchy to be labeled as platonic. You’d be lying if you said last night was the first time you shared a bed together. But now what? You got the answer you were looking for, but for some reason you can’t even look at Noah, but his eyes are burning into you, watching your every move.

“Okay…” You start, sucking in a breath as you finally moved your gaze back to Noah, eyes locking with his. “If we’re not just friends, then what does that make us?”

He smiles. “People who like each other more than friends but are too scared to admit it?”

Damn. He got that spot on. You blush again, trying to find the right words, but come up short. Your brain is still playing catch up, sleep still very much in your veins, and Noah notices. He leans forward again and gestures you to come closer and you do, his hands reaching out to grab your own.

“We have the next two days off. Let me take you out. Dinner or something. A movie. Whatever you want.”

“And then what?”

He shrugs. “And then we see where this goes. I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

You can’t stop the smile that’s slipping onto your lips, your fingers curling around his as warmth spread throughout your chest.

“That sounds good to me.”

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #mine #request

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months ago

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday. Bring Me Home won last week's poll. But it was a close one! If you want a say in what I post next week, be sure to vote in this week's poll. ^.^

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

We switch to Tim's POV for this part.

Warnings: Aftermath of torture

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

The instant Kon got the door to the lab open, Tim sprinted down the stairs. The first thing he saw was Jack and Maddie standing over a table, green ectoplasm, blood covering everything.

Then his eyes fixed on Danny. Danny, cut open and bleeding with a muzzle on while his parents looked at his insides.

He rushed forward, tackling Maddie and tearing her away from Danny. She screamed and fought back, landing one punch before Tim kicked her back a step. Then he pulled out his staff and landed a hard blow across her chest, forcing her further back.

Next to him, Cassie was taking care of Jack. He exchanged a quick glance with her and the two began herding the pair towards the wall. Away from Danny.

Behind him, Tim could hear Sam call out for Kon then a cry of pain.

“He’s still alive!” called out Kon. “I can hear both his core and heart.”

Tim couldn’t relax. Alive didn’t mean much. He put more force on his next swing of his staff, aiming for Maddie’s shoulder. But she ducked and twisted just right to get under the swing and move closer.

She slashed back with a scalpel, one still covered in Danny’s blood. Tim growled as he blocked it with his arm, the armor of his suit preventing it from reaching skin. He swung his staff again, getting her in the side hard then jerking up to hit her in the armpit.

He smiled in satisfaction when he dislocated her shoulder, causing her to drop the scalpel.

“You’ve got this all wrong!” she protested as she held her shoulder. “Jack and I are the good guys here. The ghosts, they’re all evil!”

Tim snarled. “The only evil I see here are the two so-called scientists who were torturing their own son!”

Maddie tensed at his words. “Don’t you dare say that. I’m trying to save my son from the monster that took his body.”

Tim swung again, aiming for her feet. Already distracted by the pain in her shoulder, the hit landed and she fell. He hit again and he felt her ankle break. Good, she wouldn’t be getting away.

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up,” growled Tim.

Jack landed on the ground next to his wife, taken out by a punch from Cassie. Tim took the time to swing at him, too.

Again and again and again, he brought his staff down on them. Not stopping as they cried out in pain or as he felt more bones break under his blows. Until the time when he tried to swing down, but his staff refused to move.

He spun around, scowling, to come face to face with Cassie who had his staff firmly in her own grip.

“That’s enough, Rob. They’re down and they won’t be moving. Impulse and I will make sure of it. You need to go with the others.”

Behind her, Tim could see Sam fussing over Danny, still on the table. Bart and Tucker were at the computers trying to download as much information as they could. And Kon was staring right at him.

“Transport?” asked Tim.

Kon pulled out his phone to check. “Just arrived. Let’s go, Rob.”

Tim nodded. “Fine.” To Cassie, he said, “I want them in custody.”

She nodded. “Obviously. We all do. Impulse, Tucker, and I will take care of things here.”

“Then let’s go.” Tim stalked away from Jack and Maddie, refusing to look back. He wasn’t sure he could stop a second time.

Someone must have found a blanket and gotten it under Danny. All Kon had to do was touch the blanket, and it lifted up. Danny was held completely straight in the make-shift stretcher as Kon single-handedly used his TTK to carry him, Sam leading the way out of the lab.

The doors opened for them on the way out, Kon’s TTK again. And sure enough there by the curb was a nondescript van, engine still running.

Jazz got out the driver’s seat the instant Kon appeared in the doorway to open the back of the van.

“Bring him in here! I’ve got a bed set up,” she said.

Kon, of course, went first. But Tim and Sam were only steps behind him. Inside the van, the bench on one side had been fitted with a futon mattress to form a makeshift bed. Overhead, lights had been fitted to make sure the area was bright enough to see. Kon carefully laid Danny down then backed up so Sam and Jazz could move in.

“Keys are in the ignition,” said Jazz. “Get us away from the house, then let Sam and I patch him up.”

“You’ve got it,” said Kon who took his spot behind the wheel.

Tim shut the doors to the van and stood against the opposite side of the van. This was his first good look at Danny.

His friend was still in his Phantom form, but his jumpsuit had been torn and peeled away from his body. His chest was covered in so much blood he could barely see the wound, but the tell-tale y-incision was unmistakable.

Jazz and Sam were carefully wiping away the blood as best they could, using towels that had been neatly stacked in a box next to the cot.

Tim looked around until he saw an empty bucket. He pushed it towards the two girls. “Put the dirty ones in here.”

Kon pulled away from the Fenton house, aiming for their local out-of-town-limits rendezvous spot. “I can keep Danny from being jostled by the road. Don’t know if I can do the same for the rest of you if you’re moving, though.”

“Let’s not test it right now,” said Tim. “But we will be practicing that later. Never know when we might need it again.”

Jazz dropped her first towel and grabbed another. Her hands were shaking.

Tim knelt by her side and placed a hand on her wrist. “Let me. Right now we’re just trying to hold him together and I can do that as well as you can. He’s going to be just fine, I’ll make sure of it.”

“But I’m the one who trained with Frostbite.” Her voice cracked on a sob.

Tim grabbed the towel from her hands and used it to put pressure on Danny’s wound. “And I don’t need specialized training for this part of it.”

Jazz hesitated a moment longer, but with a last look at her brother, she spun and ran to the other side of the van. Tim listened to her muffled cries as he held the towel to Danny’s chest.

Sam shifted until their shoulders were pressed together and he leaned slightly into the touch. Neither said anything.

Soon enough, Kon was pulling off the road and the van came to a stop. The instant it did, Jazz was pushing her way into his place, two boxes in her hand. She opened one to reveal a large first aid kit, as well stocked as anything he had in his most-used safe house.

Tim took up a position at the foot of the bench and pulled out a small camera he had in his belt. He took careful pictures of all the visible wounds. Kon came up besides him and put an arm around his shoulder.

Jazz opened the second case, letting out a hiss of cold air and frost. Without hesitating, she put on two heavy duty gloves and lifted out what looked to be an ice cube.

Sam, meanwhile, was measuring out enough glowing green thread to cover Danny’s wound. Tim took another picture.

Jazz placed four ice cubes into the injury—one at the end of each cut and one where the lines intersected. Then Sam laid the thread over the wound. She muttered something and it phased into Danny’s skin without the use of a needle and pulled the injury together.

The glow faded slightly and if he didn’t know better, Tim would’ve thought they were regular stitches.

From there, they focused on cleaning off the remaining blood. The van was mostly silent—Sam and Jazz only communicating the bare minimum necessary to care for Danny. Even Tim’s camera was entirely silent, designed as it was for stealth.

As Danny was wiped clean, more and more injuries were revealed. Only years of bat training kept Tim standing and taking pictures. But his grip on the camera was much tighter than it needed to be. Kon’s fingers were digging into his shoulder almost painfully, but Tim didn’t say anything. Sam and Jazz were forcibly holding themselves together, but the odd hitch in their breath or tremble in their fingers gave them away, too.

A nasty burn spanning Danny’s left side was revealed. Tim clicked the camera, and Sam applied an ectoplasm-based ointment to it. Then Jazz covered the injury with a bandage.

The process was repeated time and again for each injury they discovered. But eventually, all the wounds were tended to. Once Jazz did a final look, she nodded with grim satisfaction.

“Superboy, could you use your powers to wrap his chest?”

“Of course!” Kon left Tim’s side to grab a roll of gauze and took up his own place at Danny’s side. All he had to do, though, was place the roll on the bed and his powers took care of everything else.

Tim wished he could do something half so useful. Next time Danny managed to get to the Realms, he was so joining him and getting his own lessons directly from Frostbite.

“Just one more thing to do,” said Jazz. She reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a small box. Inside sat a syringe filled with ectoplasm. She jammed it into Danny’s thigh and pressed the plunger.

Danny’s eyes flew opened and he let out a yell as his back arched off the bed.

Sam was already hovering over him. “Danny? How are you feeling?”

Danny panted for breath, but looked at her with a wry smile. “Pretty much the worse I’ve ever felt.” He looked from Sam to Jazz to Kon before meeting Tim’s eyes. “You came.”

“I always will,” said Tim.

-----

Please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

I'm not an expert on emergency medicine, so I figured why not go the magical route?

Tim wishes he could help in a more hands-on way, but documenting injuries is important if you want to bring them up in court. No one knows yet if Danny will want that, but this way they have them in case they're necessary.

Tucker, Bart, and Cassie are remaining behind to bring the Fentons to JL holding cells. Tucker is the one who knows the Fenton computers best after Danny, after all.

All ready we can see some major changes from my original version. What else will change? And, more importantly, what will stay the same?

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #kon el #jazz fenton #sam manson #these poor kids #should not have to deal with situations like this #whatever adult heroes are on duty #when impulse and wonder girl come up #with some trussed up mad scientists #with a bunch of broken bones #crying about illegal experimentation on sapient creatures #are going to regret being on shift #they're not gonna be getting much sleep for the next #...#long while

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wangxianficfinder · 9 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

March 23rd

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1. Hi. Looking for this fic wherein wwx tried to prank lqr and the elders by acting like a Lan. It backfired because they thought wwx was possessed by Lan An, especially when jwy visited cloud recesses (almost causes a war between jiang and lan). For it to end, wwx pretended to be Lan An and said goodbye then fake fainted (as if Lan An left wwx’s body)

please help me find it 🙏

Hi! I’m from the recent fic finder #1. Unfortunately that’s not what i’m looking for because I remember it being post canon (meaning wangxian are already married). I also remember the Lans asked lwj if lwj still do lovers stuff with wwx (as they really thought wwx was possessed by lan an)

FOUND? Wei Wuxian is Definitely Not Possessed by CursedBlessing (T, 20k, WangXian, Misunderstandings, General Dumbassery, Humor)

#1 I think was deleted. I know the fic they're asking about and I can't find it either.

Number 1 is the correct fic, it's just Chapter 3. / Yeah, 1 IS the correct fic, op's scene is the entirety of ch. 3

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2. Hey, I'm looking for a wangxianfic, in which wei ying and lan zhan are already married. Wei ying goes on a night hunt with the juniors and gets hurt. I think it was a cut on the stomach with poison. Lan zhan cares for him but wei ying is almost dying. Lan zhan is davasteted and says that he can't wait for wei ying again. It was a completed work and I think just 4 chapters. Please can you find the title? With kind regards @smarti1997

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3. I'm not sure if this is something I think happened in a fic, or it really exists, but on the off-chance someone know what I'm talking about - the Sunshot Campaign ends differently with Wen Qing/Wen Ning in charge of the Qishan Wen, and as part of reparations(? Maybe?) the family vaults are revealed. Wen Qing warns people not to touch anything but JGS is too greedy and grabs something and dissolves in dust? And then WQ opens the real vault, the first was to stop thieves. Thank you in advance! @katonahottinroof

I know which fic #3 is talking about but i cannot find it either, gonna go deep dive on ao3 tho (is it that one where the wens have a secret passage into the throne room that opens only with wen blood isnt it. unless im mixing fics too)

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, WangXian, XiQing, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, madam yu bashing (again not completely), MXY Deserves Better) the thing with jgs happen in chapter 34

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4. Hi writing in hopes that someone remembers this fanfiction.:

i once read a fic where LWJ and WWX were stuck in the Xuanwu cave and WWX was i think on the verge of dying but then something emerges from the waters and gives LWJ a deal that if he gives up his voices then as an exchange he can save WWX's life which LWJ obviously does so his voice goes away but by the end of the fic Wangxian go back to the cave where LWJ gets his voice back because he once again strikes a deal with that creature giving up his immortality or something that has to do with him being worshipped for gaining his voice back. was a one shot that i remember clearly and was on ao3 platform also thank you so much cause this blog has bought me my favorite Wangxian fics.

FOUND! Outside Another Yellow Moon by Vamillepudding (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Fairy Tale Elements, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Needs a Hug, Curse Breaking)

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5. help. hey i am certain the fanfics in my memories exist but they keep on eluding me so there are these 2 fics:

A) the premise of this story was time travel where modern WWX travels back in time when other WWX is living with the wens in the burial mounds when LWJ comes to the borders with his modern counterpart and when modern wangxian meet they have a sweet reunion in which they share a kiss after that they are joined by the hip much to the mortification of OG wangxian. WY's parents are dead (car accident) but madam Lan's alive and he calls her mother or mom and modern them is engaged they also have their phones by which they click a photo and after coming to modern world WY sees that as proof that it actually happened. read it on ao3 muti chaptered (completed) with either 4 or 6 chapters 6 being maximum

B) in this one the main Lan fam is captured body swap between WRH and LWJ occurs and after LWJ realizes what has happen he commands that his body's head be severed which is currently housing WRH's soul and LXC and LQR are present to see that happening and grieve over LWJ not knowing WRH was the one who died and LWJ doesn't inform them about the body swap but tells the guards to take LXC and LQR to their rooms he keeps his own body's severed head in his room also. LWJ asks guards to bring him WWX which they do but injured and WWX sees LWJ's severed head and gets angry he also practices to be more like WRH so nobody suspects this is the most clear i remember there were also i think one appearance of WQ and some from WX and WC was on ao3 ongoing atleast when i was reading think over 5 chapter but under 10 the last i had checked (i was so curios to know what happens next but i lost the fic)

thx and sorry if its too confusing

5B)

FOUND? where the sky begins by Shializaro (Not Rated, 17k, WangXian, Bodyswap, Blood and Violence, Body Dysphoria, Dissociation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Crack Treated Seriously)

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6. Hello! This is for ficfinder, I have lost track of two fics, and would very much like assistance finding them again!

A ) an Addams family style modern au. I cannot remember the title, but Lan Wangji enjoyed the taste of Hemlock tea, Wei Wuxian always dressed in gothic clothes, A-Yuan keeps getting possessed, Wen Ning would die temporarily every now and then then, and the reason Lan Wangji went to Yiling in the first place was to find his mother (madam lan is alive in this one).

B ) Young Prince Lan Wangji fled the palace to avoid an arranged marriage, and met an older Wei Wuxian and traveled with him, keeping his identity a secret. Lan Zichen catches up with them after Wangxian have spent the night together (bottom LWJ), and Lan Zhan is taken back to the palace. Wei Wuxian returns to claim his hand, revealing himself as Baoshan Sanren’s heir. Fix ends with them watching their kids play in Lan Zhan’s mother’s garden.

If you can help me find these, I would appreciate it very much!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ @cullen-blue23

6A)

NOT FOUND🔒The Altogether Ooky WangXian Family by FluffyHippogriff (T, 72k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Modern AU, Addams Family AU, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, mostly because death can be overcome with the help of a little necromancy, Kid Fic, Comedy)

FOUND! lovely thorns and singing crows by isabilightwood (E, 37k WangXian, Modern AU, Addams Family Vibes, meet cute at a funeral, Madam Lán Lives, Light Horror, Curses, Possession, Fluff and Humor, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs)

NOT FOUND🔒darkness there and nothing more by wvlfqveen (M, 21k, WangXian, Addams Family Fusion, Magical Realism, Body Horror, Addams Family Levels of Violence, Identity Issues)

6B)

FOUND! Beyond These Walls, the Heart Calls by wayward_wing (E, 13k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Adventure & Romance, Prince LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Jealous WWX, LWJ Flirts, Sleeping Together, Masturbation, Slight Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, eating ass, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Getting Together, Naive LWJ)

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7. Hi. I've been trying to find this Untamed fanfic which I bookmarked but somehow is not in my bookmarked collection anymore! :(. I think it's post-canon but WWX (of course) is injured and LWJ is helping him recover, told from LWJ perspective totally in-character where he has to remind himself to breathe. Once,wj returned to inn room, found WWX gone from the 2nd bed and he tripped over his own feet and was "resigned to the fall". Once he tucked WWX into his bed and sat at his desk to breathe.

FOUND? Always Light My Way by cqlorphan (E, 27k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Friends With Benefits, to lovers, wherein dual cultivation may be counted as a benefit, Jealous WWX, a little bit, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, angsty sex, Switch WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Service Top LWJ, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, the angsty sex happens in the beginning but they get past it dw, Oblivious LWJ, archer wwx, Smart WWX, Porn with Feelings, probably at least half of this fic is just that, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dual Cultivation)

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8. thank you again for this wonderful blog! loading up on fics for my next offline trip and i have one that is driving me nuts. I remember seeing the reference here awhile back but for some idiot reason didn't bookmark it. What I remember is something like this : its after canon - Wei Ying is back, its after Guanyin's temple - but Lan Zhan has a soulmate to get back to so leaves Wei Ying alone on the road. that scene in Untamed haunted me. does this ring any bells? appreciate any help!! @oldoni

FOUND! Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers (E, 60k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Case Fic, betrothed to someone else, unfurling of wifexian scrolls: the fic, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, (it gets resolved lol), WWX POV, Protective wwx, WWX centric, explicit stuff only happens between wangxian, (or wwx and his own hand), Masturbation, get wwx a fainting couch agenda, Alcohol, wwx has some brain problems in this one, Consensual Non-Consent, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, straight boy WWX)

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9. Hello! Please help me find this fic. I don’t remember much, but there was an OC lan elder, who is rescued or helped by Wei Wuxian. I am not sure but Wei Ying didn’t know he was a lan or something. Later on they meet again and elder favours or helps him. I am sorry for being vague, but this is what I remember. It would be great if somebody knows what this fic may be !

Hello, this is requester for number 9. I am really grateful for the person who replied but unfortunately I don’t think that it is the fic I am looking for. As far as I remember wasn’t QHJ, rather an OC lan elder. However I really love the suggestion and enjoyed the fic, so thank you for that!

NOT FOUND The Shadows of My Old Palaces, Falling Across The Moats by ChilianXianzi (T, 8k, WangXian, onesided QHJ/WWX, Canon Divergence, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, QHJ lives, Domestic, Angst, POV Outsider, Age Difference, Fix-It of Sorts)

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10. for the FF: it was a fic where wx are full time dom/sub (sub wwx), i dont rmmbr much except that theres a part where jc causes a scene fearing lwj is abusing him (bc fulltime d/s, he chooses what wwx eats, wears, etc) and jyl has to tell him to shut up and that her and jzx are in a d/s relationship too! i read it ages ago T^T its not "something so flawed and free" by verseau btw! thank u guys <33 love u all mwah

FOUND! rainfall by daltoneering (E, 37k, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, lifestyle kink, 24/7 D/s, Kink Negotiation, kink discussion, Communication, BDSM, dom lwj, Sub wwx, Top LWJ, Bottom wwx, Kink Exploration, collaring, Body Writing, Breathplay, Orgasm Denial, Bondage, Subdrop, Safewording, Panic Attacks, [Podfic of] rainfall by exmanhater)

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11. Hiii! I don't remember much except for the first few chapters, but the fic was really long. I think the plot started off as "What if the Incident in Qiongdi Path never happened?"

The first chapter or so takes place at Jin Lings one month celebration

Wei Wuxian is really damn depressed the whole time (he's really damn depressed the whole fic actually)

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan never die. Yanli wants to spend time with Wei Wuxian and she makes some soup, but he gets spooked at some point and Wen Ning helps him run away back to the Burial Mounds???

At some point later on in the fic, Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli go to Cloud Recesses and they bring some food for Wangxian.

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12. hii :D im looking for a modern au fic where lz works as a in pharmaceutics and meets wy who is the tech guy of their apartment. he calls himself mo xuanyu and lives with ayuan and is trying to escape his past with the help of police officer nmj. i think there was an autistic lz tag in that fic too. it was so good but i think i forgot to bookmark it.. thanks for your help! @harapecowee

FOUND! Stop and Stay by Fantazy_Eyeland7 (M, 98k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/JGY, SL/XXC, WIP, Blood and Violence, Hurt WWX, Kidnapping, Torture, WWX discovering weighted blankets, Pining LWJ, Modern, FBI Agent NMJ, Protective LWJ, Emotional Manipulation, Toxic JGY, not JGY friendly, LWJ learning how to communicate, WangXian have competence kinks, adopting children, Bad Parent YZY, Protective JYL, Protective JC, Protective NMJ, Past Child Abuse, Precious LSZ, Baby LJY, Warning: XY, Blind Character, slaps top of WWX: This bad boy can fit so much trauma inside, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everyone is ending up in well-needed therapy, Child Abandonment, Genius WWX, Obsessive XY, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Eventual Smut, Bad Parent JFM, Junior Quartet Dynamics, (As Babies!), Implied/Referenced Suicide, sort of a slow burn, but not really, because they KNOW, they just can't, Good Uncle LQR, eventually) It doesn't have the austistic!lz tag, but everything else fits.

~*~

13. Hi! 🤗

I'm looking for two fics:

A) A fic where WQ makes a second operation with WWX and JC. The only thing I remember is that WWX is really in a bad condition and they ask JC to give the half of the golden core to WWX. He accepts.

B) I'm not sure if it's one o two fics that I'm mixing, but all I remember is that LWJ when he knows about the lost golden core of WWX, decided to make a second golden core inside him to give it to WWX.

Thanks for the wonderful work! 🥰 @wangxiansgirl

13A)

FOUND! The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

NOT FOUND! Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) might also be, (around chapter 43)?

NOT FOUND! in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian)

13B)

FOUND? 🧡 Discarded by teawater (E, 178k, WIP, WangXian, Lots of Angst, Hurt/Comfort, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect, Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ) If 13B is different from 13A, maybe B is Discarded Lan Zhan creates a "seed core" that Wei Ying can use to grow a new core.

FOUND? these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, ...eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign)

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14. Im trying to find a fic

It was modern setting and maybe has cultivation still? wwx is a tattoo artist and I believe lwj saw some type dark energy out side his shop. So he went in and ending up saying he wanted a tattoo, wwx was who ended up talking to him about it and making him a design. I think it had something to do with bunnies and, then finally when the day came for lwj to get the tattoo. He’s like I’m sorry I never wanted one, wwx gets upset and tells lwj to pay him money in cash for compensation. Lwj does that’s all I can remember I think wwx might have adopted or least helps take care of a -yuan. @zerokogane

FOUND! Demon Ink by Jade_Valentine (E, 189k, WIP, WangXian, Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Tattoo Artist WWX, Magic, Chaotic Bisexual WWX, Demisexual LWJ, background NieLan, Slow Burn, Angst, But substantially less angst than canon, Mutual Masturbation, Domestic Fluff, Welcome to my LWJ & NHS friendship agenda, Shower Sex, Brief mentions of past Lan Bro abuse at the hands of LQR, wangxian family feels, WWX is the Best Dad Ever, WWX's canonical abuse at the hands of Madam Yu, Blow Jobs, Slight Make-Up Kink)

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15. Fic finder request please!!

This is a short omegaverse wangxia? I think it might’ve been part of a series? where it’s Omega WWX and YZY gets him married off to LWJ where she expects him to be treated badly. Instead bc the Lana treat omegas very well, WWX is happy and content. Meanwhile JYL is jealous that WWX actually got mating bites and equal status bc Jin Zixuan didn’t even do that for her. I can’t remember anything else. 😅

FOUND!🔒Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 21k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters)

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16. Sorry to be asking this(fic finder), I really don’t remember how I got to this fic but now I cannot find it but I feel like it probably was here

It’s a fic about how when wwx comes back to life he meets lxc instead of lwj in Mo manor. he asks for lwj and that confirms to lxc that he is wwx and not Mo xuanyu and asks him to go back with him to cloud recesses where he takes care of lwj who couldn’t heal after the 33 leash punishment.

At first wwx doesn’t want lwj to know that it’s him. He brings him bunnies and helps him re learn how to play the guqin(he cannot play it due to his injuries and because he hasn’t practiced since he was punished) lan Yuan helps wwx to learn how to play it and lwj starts being more active

Lxc is happy and let’s wwx go to a small one week vacation but lwj gets worse that week, he also discovers mxy is wwx I think

Tsm for the help🙇‍♀️

~*~

17. hi! i’m looking for two fics:

A) one where wei ying lives with ghosts and is a teacher and runs into lan zhan for the first time in years during a class field trip

B) all i can remember is that wei ying wrote a software called yiling

17A)

FOUND! won’t take the easy road by twigofwillow (T, 47k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, WWX & WQ, space au, yearning, found family, complicated family feels, ghosts, food, teacher WWX)

17B)

NOT FOUND Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression, Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing) I think no. 17 might be "Tempo Rubato" but the software is "Stygian"

NOT FOUND The Fated Fortuity by devinokaze (T, 26k, wangxian, WIP, Royalty AU, Modern, Social Media, WWX is Wen Ruohan's son, Qishan Wen Kingdom, stangers to lovers, Prince WWX) The software is called Yin Tiger Tally and Su She tries to claim he wrote it lol.

~*~

18. Hello!! All good? I'm looking for a fic in which WWX becomes a god after his death, I think he's the god of death if I remember correctly. I remember a part where Madam Yu and her Husband (the leader of the Jiang sect) decide to reincarnate... I don't remember much, it's been a while since I read it, another thing I remember is that he communicated with Jiang Cheng through dreams. I already searched the Tag Deity Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian but I didn't find it... Thank you for your work!! @sweettiebah

FOUND! 🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

~*~

19. heyy could u help me find a fic, I only vaguely remember the details

I read this quite a while ago, wwx is some sort of courtesan, pretty sure he works in a brothel, lwj is either a cultivator (like in canon) or he's a noble/king smth like that! he meets wwz in the brothel place and I think wwx is pretty sly, MAYBE he's wearing dresses and I'm pretty sure they get married in the end? I think someone in the lan clan is against wwx (either lxc or lqr) and I'm also pretty sure it's a pwp, they might have been conspiring too, it's all very vague! any help would be appreciated thanks!!!

FOUND! 醉 | drunk; intoxication by sweetlolixo (E, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mythical Creature WWX, everyone falls in love with weiying at first sight..., Besotted LWJ, Romance, Pregnant WWX, Fluff)

~*~

20. Hi I’m looking for a fix where sizhui and jingyi travels back to the past (maybe to the conference) and they make commentary during the entire time they were waiting to get back to their present. I think in this fix, sizhui revealed that some of the people (madam Yu and others) are listed on lan zhan’s lists. Sizhui also mentions that lan zhan has several lists for different things. Also jinyi called Jin guangshan jin guangshit throughout the whole time they’re there. Thanks

FOUND? A Room Full of Dead People by BurningBlueDiamond (T, 10k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, but not really, Canon Divergence, Conference in Qinghe but canonically they stay in Gusu, strangely fluffy, POV Outsider)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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tinfoil-jones · 1 month ago

Text

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 4

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.4

"If we’re going to get to the pit of this peach we gotta get some variables outta the way first. I need a scan of his brain and yours. While conscious.”

“Mine as well?”

“You said he’s your identical twin - he should be genetically the same as you. We can use a scan of your brain as a comparison to see if there’s physical damage on the organ itself, because brain damage is the most common cause of amnesia.”

“I do have the technology available for an in-depth scan, but… ”

“But what?”

“It’s in the shape of a ray gun, but like a traditional MRI whoever is getting scanned has to stay completely still.”

“I don’t s’pose in the time it took me to go into town and get supplies, you managed to reconcile with him?”

“Reconcile? He’s still convinced I’m a mad scientist out to harvest his organs, 'or worse turn him over to the IRS'- don’t ask about that second part. If I point anything gun-shaped at him, he’ll freak out.”

“Can’t say I blame him…”

“Hush, Fiddleford. There’s an easy way we can get him to hold still.”

“Stanford- Stanford put the tranquilizing doohickey away. We both know that concoction of yours wasn’t formulated with humans in mind. Surely you have less caustic means of sedation.”

---

“Stanford, anyone can tell that bottle’s been tampered with.”

“I have a theory that this persona of his is so self-destructive he’ll still drink it.”

“Y’know, this bottled water tastes suspiciously like two crushed Ambien tablets.”

*Stan keeps drinking it anyways*

“I am impressed, but I also hate that your theory was correct.”

*Ford undeafens the cell*

“Stanley, if you think there’s zolpidem in that, why are you still drinking it?”

“You think two Ambien is enough to take me down? Guess again, I’ve used this stuff to cut coke. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, PhD.”

“Hmm, so we should have used Coca-Cola instead of water…”

“That ain’t what he meant by- how did you survive by yourself out here?”

---

“Hello there …Stan?”

“Sup babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I was wondering - you’re so handsome already, but it’d surely tickle my fancy a bit more if you put on this here necktie.”

“Hell no.”

“Do you not know how to tie one? I’d be happy to-.”

“I know how to tie a tie, specs. But I’ll never wear a necktie ever again. Not after Colombia… I still can’t shave that part of my jaw without nightmares.”

“I beg your pardon?”

---

“I couldn’t convince him to put the mind control tie on.”

“Fiddleford, why are you staring a thousand yards away?”

“He was explaining to me his time in Colombian prison, then he went on a tangent about necklaces and now I don’t think I can change a tire without thinking about it ever again.”

“... Interesting. We’re not resorting to the tranq gun yet?”

“This is your own brother you’re talking about.”

“There’s only one thing we can do. The only thing that will 99.99% work on my brother. I didn’t think it would have to come to this so soon. But it’s our only unharmful option left.”

---

“Stanley.”

“Doc.”

“I will give you twenty dollars if you stay still for thirty whole seconds.”

“On one hand this is a set up… On the other hand, I’ve done worse for twenty dollars.”

“You what ?”

“Ten bucks up front.”

To be continued...

#if we take inflation into account 20 bucks is a lot of money okay #early amnesia au #you know the situation is pretty bad when Fiddleford has to be the ethical one #I dont know what happens when you mix Ambien and cocaine or coca cola just don't try it at home youd probably just die #Stan did it because he's a fictional character who follows a degree of toon logic #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #stanley pines #stan pines #fiddlestan #but in the background #gravity falls #fanfiction #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #Stan calling Ford anything except for his name #mystery trio

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senualothbrok · 3 months ago

Text

Come What May

Summary: On what Gale believes is his last night alive, you cannot give him your body. But there are countless ways to declare love, and infinite ways to express it.

An alternative act 2 romance scene, featuring a Tav who is a cleric of Ilmater. "Come What May" is a song from "Moulin Rouge".

AO3 link

Non-18+. Angst with a happy ending.

Trigger warnings: references to prostitution (Tav's mother), sexual trauma, grief/bereavement, graphic depictions of illness, Gale's suicidal ideation.

A/N: This fic is a response to the anon who requested an alternative act 2 romance scene between Gale and a Tav who wants to save intimacy for after marriage. I feel that I should apologise because I am clearly incapable of writing a straightforwardly sweet/romantic piece which does not involve trauma and angst of some sort. I have no idea why this happened, please forgive me.

Please note the trigger warnings and exercise self-care. It is, however, angst with a happy ending.

I highly recommend listening to "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge during/after you read this.

I deliberated over whether to post this. It feels like my weakest work, and I feel slightly ashamed about it. I'm still not sure if it's good enough to post, but decided to bite the bullet because I wanted to give it to the anon who reached out. I really hope it does bring some comfort and enjoyment to someone out there.

I cannot thank my dear friends @inglorionamy-ammy and @dekariosclan enough for being truly wonderful beta readers and helping me with some major edits on this piece. Thank you and I am forever grateful for your kind hearts and keen minds.

“I’m in love with you.”

There is anguish in Gale’s eyes. His voice trembles with fear and urgency. You feel it all, a sunbeam shooting through the blue-green haze he has conjured around you. For you.

You gaze at him, breathless. Nothing compares, not even the beauty and wonder of his creation. When Gale looks at you, you do not feel dread, that ancient squirming beneath your skin. He is not the lumbering colossus of your nightmares, leaving a trail of whimpering bruises on your mother’s flesh. When he is near, you feel a yearning to draw closer, not away. You had never thought that possible with a man.

In that moment, you are possessed by a wild terror. An agonising thought that he will slip through your fingers, as though he never was. His last night alive.

Your heart surges, and you cannot stop it. You answer without thinking.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Panic seizes you. Your admission is a sacred boundary crossed. A bulwark broken. You have the urge to bolt before all is lost.

But then Gale’s face lifts. It radiates with a smile, and all at once, you are beaming with the knowledge that you are the cause. Fleetingly, you let yourself imagine the miracle of seeing that smile again and again for the rest of your days. It is not a leering grin from which you flee, nor a repulsed grimace from which you hide. Sometimes, in his presence, there is something about solitude that no longer feels like safety, but loss. It bewilders you.

He huffs out a laugh, and you are mesmerised by the curl of his eyelashes, delicate as butterfly wings.

“That’s a relief. It’d be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.”

There is a flame in his eyes that sets you alight. You cannot look away. You do not want to. Something swollen simmers in the space between you, just as it had that night when the Weave had made you one.

He dips towards you. You are drifting towards him, dizzy from his scent. It is like nothing you have breathed before. There is no trace of sourness, no stale grease. It is sandalwood and leather, scrolls and soap. You are entranced by the plump curve of Gale’s lips, the soft earth of his eyes. In your mind, you see the smooth curve of his shoulders, broad and welcoming. His feather light fingers turning a page, like a sculptor’s touch on setting clay.

The glaring marks on your mother’s neck, withering into wounds. The blood of her scabs, pooling in her navel.

You flinch.

Confusion flits across his features. You shift away.

“I'm sorry,” you manage. “I can't.”

You are winded by his spasm of hurt, a storm of despair, rejection, doubt. Part of you wishes you did not have this gift, this curse of Ilmater - to read others’ pain, to feel others' suffering so deeply it becomes your own. And you know, as you reel from the chains you cannot shed, that you should say no more. But you cannot bear it. You cannot let him suffer from a lie.

“I love you,” you choke. “But I can't.”

His brows steeple. He is silent. The thought that he does not believe you is a torment. You cannot be another loss, another reason for him to believe his life means nothing. To convince himself there is no one who would mourn his death.

The words spill out as though you are clutching, searching.

“I made a vow.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “A vow.” His gaze darkens. “You're promised to another.”

“No.” You jerk your head, frantic. “No. It’s not that…”

He stiffens, as though he is braced for a blow. That he would expect harm from you is devastating.

“I made a promise to Ilmater,” you confess. “I can't be… intimate with anyone. Not like that.”

His eyes widen. You notice that there are flecks of gold in the brown of his irises, flaring with surprise. You fumble for proof, excuses, anything to skirt around the edge of it. The scar inside you that no one but Brother Rogier has seen. Your burden, your wound. Yours and yours alone.

“It keeps me safe.” You sound frenetic. “So that I can heal. I can't be charmed, or harmed by phantasm. Ilmater protects me from–”

It is ridiculous. You feel it as you speak. To suggest that such feeble protections would keep you from the magnitude of his love, when he is certain he will soon be dust and ash. Insulting. You are ashamed.

Disbelief curdles in the tight line of his lips.

“Please. There’s no need for that.” He looks away. “You have a compassionate heart. That much is clear. But there's no need to go to such lengths to spare what remains of my pride.”

You stare at him, bereft. “Gale–”

“I understand perfectly.” His voice is broken glass. “And I would never force my heart on someone who doesn't reciprocate my affections, no matter how pitiful I may appear.”

He turns his back to you. You can no longer see his face. This is the right thing, you tell yourself. The good thing. He will walk away, and you will remain intact. Safe. You will endure.

But a frenzy has come over you. As you watch the sagging of his shoulders, the clenching of his hands, you realise that you do not want it. You do not want this sacrifice, this secret.

You want him.

You have never wanted anything so much.

You lurch forward. He spins around at the desperate questing of your fingers, lacing into his. You fall to your knees, pressing his hand to your heart. Recognition sparks in his eyes as your tadpole brushes against his.

“Please,” you whisper. “Let me show you.”

****

She used to be beautiful, you thought, kneeling there beside her. You stared at the welts marring her olive skin, her scarlet hair flaking to rust. There was a sore on your mother's thigh, weeping with pus, and you looked away when Brother Rogier pressed on it, ashamed at your squeamishness.

You had seen far worse, waiting in dark alleyways and side streets while she heaved, clamped against the wall by some hooded giant, or kneeling as a grunting shadow loomed over her. You had never felt disgust or shock, only vague impatience, as you watched her finish and rearrange her skirts. Coins jangled in her pockets as she took your hand, bounding towards the promise of candlelight in the distance. Later on those nights, she would hold you close in a warm bed, lulling you to sleep with whispered songs. With a full stomach and a formless hope, you ignored the greasy stench of strangers’ sweat which she could never shed.

It angered you, how nauseous you felt, as you listened to the bubbling crackle of your mother's breathing. You were only ten, but you were no longer a child, and you knew her moments were numbered. To feel disgust as she lay there, leaking into a peeling pallet, a guttering flame - it was the greatest betrayal. A sin you could never forgive. When Brother Rogier covered your mother's modesty with his usual gentleness, you started to cry.

You had been suspicious of him at first, stooped and shrouded in his tattered grey robe. You had never met a priest of Ilmater. All you could see was his bald head, so shiny it looked wet, and the backs of his calloused hands, hairy as a beast’s. When he first took hold of your mother after her collapse, you screamed.

But he did not scold or strike you. He spoke to you softly, as an equal, not a child.

“I want nothing from your mother, or from you,” he said. “I have sworn a vow of chastity.”

He had crouched to look you in the eye. It was a dignity you had never been given before, as the ugly runt of a streetwalker. It made you feel like he truly saw you, in a way that no one but your mother did.

“It means I will never take a woman or a man. She is safe with me. And so are you.”

And you were. With him, you felt safe. He was the only other person who would touch her, when the sickness ravaged her body and her mind. He tended to her in the temple with poultices and prayers, giving you food, water and shelter. She was well beyond thanking him by then, all speech and thought swallowed up in decay. Yet when her fire was snuffed out, he was the one who stood with you, cleaning her for burial. He was the one who anointed her so carefully, so reverently, for a return to Ilmater’s embrace.

“Ilmater sees you,” Brother Rogier had said. “He bears your suffering.”

And as you wept into your mother's cold, hard hands, with Brother Rogier steadfast beside you, you thought of every stranger who sucked and thrust your mother's beauty out of her. You thought of their relentless claws in the darkness, and Brother Rogier’s tender fingers in the light. You thought of your life, broken and empty, but for Ilmater's unexpected kindness.

And you made a promise. You promised you would never give your body as your mother had. All that you were, all that you had, you vowed to give to the Crying, Broken God, the one who stood with you and endured.

****

There is a tiny scar near his temple, framed by a dew drop of a mole. You had never noticed them before. As you lie facing him, cocooned in the illusion of the lush grass beneath and the boundless night above, you drink in every pore of his bronze-kissed face, every shadow that lifts as his gaze roams over you. You feel it like a caress, drifting over the patches and blemishes marring your skin, and for the first time in your life, you do not feel the need to hide them.

“Tav.” His voice is so low, you strain to hear it. “I’m so sorry.”

He draws closer. He has seen the gaping hole inside you, and he remains. You can feel his longing to comfort, his desire to heal. It is a familiar urge, your second nature. It would be a gift, if you could accept his reassurance. If you could rest in his embrace. If only.

He senses your hesitation. Abruptly, he pauses, his fingers hovering above yours.

“Is this… alright?” Worry twists his features. “Are you comfortable with–”

“It’s alright.”

He gestures between you. “Because if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can–”

“It doesn’t.”

He frowns, questioning, fretting.

“I'm sorry.” You look down. “I'm sorry I can't…”

He jolts. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the point of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“I love you.” His brow quivers. “There are countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. The joining of bodies, the pleasures of the flesh…they're but one stitch in a vast tapestry. My love for you goes far deeper, burns far brighter.”

You gaze at him, motionless. When you speak again, your voice is torn.

“I want to. With you. One day, when I’m not...”

You grimace as the images flash through your mind. The weeping scratches on your mother’s breast. The oily sheen on her calloused skin. You try to blink them away.

“When I can, I want to.”

He nods slowly, firmly. He shines, as though there are no more shadows between you. That there never could be.

“It’s different with you.” You try to explain. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to hide. When I’m close to you, I feel…safe.”

You know it is not enough, but it is all you have. You can only give him the truth, no more, no less.

“You’re not like the others,” you say finally. “I… want to be with you. To…touch you.”

You clasp his hand. There is the faintest glow of lavender that trails down the muscles of his neck, a glinting sliver of his chest through the opening of his robe. You look at him with concern. He grimaces slightly. You think you see a trace of embarrassment, but you are not sure.

“I - ah –”

His mouth opens, closes. He struggles for words.

“Is it hurting?” You wince. “We can try that poultice again, I have some in my–”

“I’m alright,” he huffs. “I’m quite alright, Tav.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Not…quite.” He shakes his head. “Not now. It’s–”

He bites his lip. There is a strange silence, as though you have reached a frontier you cannot pass. And yet, the intensity of his gaze draws you, like a thread tethering your soul to his. Your fingers follow its path, hovering over the dark ring at his centre. He tilts his head, and almost imperceptibly, he nods.

His eyelids flutter at your touch. The lines of the orb feel like a scar, a stitch sinking into his skin. There is a coldness to the purple pulse under your fingers. You notice that Gale has stopped breathing. You draw back.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he answers immediately. His lips are parted. You catch the wet glimmer of his tongue. “Not at all.”

He clears his throat. You swallow. For a moment, you cannot look at each other. He runs his hand through his hair, while you fuss at your tunic. A hushed heat falls over you, and as if on cue, you both roll onto your backs, fixing your gazes on the celestial canvas.

It is quiet for a long time. And then your hand returns to his, as if it belongs there. You trace the grooves on his palm, as he caresses the callouses of your knuckles.

“I would wait an eternity for you.” His voice is rough, fractured. “If only I could…but the orb, the fate Mystra demands of me–”

“You don’t deserve this,” you choke.

He scoffs, a burst of anger and disgust. “I was foolish. Selfish. It was unconscionable. I endangered everyone around me–”

You spin back to him. “You don’t deserve this, Gale. Not this. Not her abandonment and punishment. Not any of it.”

He stares at you. There is both a hardening and a softening in him as he wrestles with your words. You understand. You know how it feels to grapple with a burden, haunted by whether you can ever lay it down. Plagued by whether you should.

A tangle of hair falls into your eyes. Slowly, tentatively, he reaches up to tuck it behind your ear. Your skin tingles from the ghost of his touch.

“I could never tire of looking at your face,” he breathes. “Hearing your voice, seeing you smile. Watching you laugh. Being with you, basking in the miracle of your presence.” He closes his eyes, as if committing you to memory. “When the time comes, this is what I’ll picture. Only you.”

The sorrow of his smile floods you. The resolution, the resignation in it. All at once, you are drowning. He gasps, flinching forwards.

“Please.” His thumb draws gentle circles on your cheek, brushing away your falling tears. “My love, please don't cry.”

He speaks with a tortured awe, as though no one has ever wept from his pain.

“I would never want to bring you grief. Only joy. Beauty. Happiness and wonder.”

“Then don't do it.” You try to stifle your sobs. “We can work this out together. You don’t have to die.”

You cup his flickering hand against your skin.

“Any goddess who would ask you to do this isn’t worthy of your love. You're worth more than any mistakes you’ve made. So much more than this cruel forgiveness. You’re… everything.”

Ilmater would never ask this. He would see Gale, his regrets, his triumphs, his goodness and kindness. His love. Ilmater would bear his suffering as his own. He would walk with Gale through the roses and the thorns. You wish you could make him see.

But he does not see it. “Please don't cry,” is all he says, as he wipes away your tears.

***

“What's your happiest memory?”

It feels like a deflection at first. A misguided focus on your sorrow instead of his own. You do not want to back down. You want to convince him that Mystra is wrong, that he deserves to live, that he should endure. But there is a plea in his question, a ragged insistence, and you cannot refuse him.

You close your eyes as you consider.

“My mother loved to sing,” you start. “When she sang, it was like time stood still. Her voice was so beautiful… I can’t describe it, but I remember it. Everything about her was beautiful… until she got sick.”

You feel your mother’s crimson waves, wrapped like a veil around you. The cradle of her arms, so thin and willowy, yet strong as spider silk.

“Just before she got sick, my mother took me to a tavern to see Red Millie. A singer - you won’t have heard of her, but she was a celebrity around our parts. The barkeep took one look at us and tried to throw us out, but we managed to hide away at the back.”

You remember your glee, sneaking with your mother through the gaps in the crowd, shrouded in shadows. There was a whimsy, a spirit within your mother that no amount of degradation and destitution could ever kill. Not until the very end.

Gale’s jaw clenches. “Blind prejudice. Needless cruelty, to deny such simple pleasures to a woman and her child. What I wouldn’t do to give that fool a piece of my mind.”

A tide of tenderness washes over you. You squeeze his hand.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. But thank you.”

Reluctantly, he eases. His anger moves you in a way you cannot describe. You are reminded of how Brother Rogier chased off the boys that spat and threw stones at you, as though there was nothing that mattered more than your dignity.

“It was incredible, anyway,” you go on. “My first time at a real show. It was the only time I saw my mother’s face light up like that. Red Millie had red hair just like hers, and a voice that could bring warriors to their knees. And that night, she sang this song, a song I’ll never forget.”

It takes you unawares, how clearly you can still hear it. How it echoes inside you like a temple bell.

“Afterwards, my mother looked at me like she’d never done before. She was smiling, and there were tears in her eyes, and she held me so tightly I thought she would never let me go.”

Your chest heaves. She is a bottomless ache. You struggle to find your breath.

“What was the song?” Gale asks softly.

The grasp of his hand stills you. No one but Brother Rogier has ever heard you sing. You have always thought your song fragile, brittle, like thawing ice. It has always been a secret part of yourself, set aside for your mother and Ilmater alone. But when Gale asks, it is a foregone conclusion. Something you give him freely and without reservation.

And so, with your tears mirrored in his eyes, you sing him your mother’s song.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you

Until the end of time

Come what may

I will love you

Until my dying day”

****

“Come.” He stands suddenly, lithe with determination. “I want to show you something.”

He reaches down to you, and when you take his hand, the world around you dissolves into a whirl of blinding light. You stumble, but with his fingers intertwined in yours, there is no space inside you for trepidation. There is only wonder.

He strides forward. You gasp as a vista of oak, marble, and vellum streams from his free hand. Not for the first time, you are enthralled by Gale in his element, working miracles from the Weave. You marvel at the sculptures and paintings that appear around you, the plush seats and ornate walls enlivened by the spines of a thousand books. Within this sanctuary of deep reds and gilded greens, open tomes and scribbled notes gleam in the glow of the fireplace. All you see and feel and smell is Gale.

“This is my home in Waterdeep. The centre of my universe.”

You stand speechless, taking it all in - the gift of Gale’s trust, the purity of his love as he bears his soul to you. With a flourish, Gale leads you towards an intricately carved piano that waits in the corner of the room.

“This is beautiful, Gale.”

You are referring to all of it - Gale's art, his home and haven, Gale himself. But Gale beams down at the piano with a special focus.

“It was my mother's.”

His thumb grazes its elaborate markings. There is such a delicacy in the gesture. An act of worship.

“She gave it to me, when I finally got my act together and moved into my own place. What a day of joy and mourning that was.”

He chuckles, brimming with memories. You wish you could see them all.

“She was a marvellous pianist, back in the day, when her fingers were nimbler. Truly exceptional. She was no wizard, but to hear her play–”

His hands dance, fervent with admiration.

“She played with such passion, such unparalleled mastery, that her music had a magic of its own.”

He gestures to the bench in front of the piano. As you sit, your thigh brushes against his. His fingers trail idly over the keys.

“It was always a treat as a child, to perch here beside her and watch her play. No matter how much of a menace I'd been, how exhausted she was from the endless havoc I wreaked and all the questions about the universe I demanded she answer. No matter how incandescent she was with me for burning this or summoning that…”

He gives a huff of affection.

“She would still invite me to sit beside her and listen. Every time.”

Gale's smile illuminates every part of him. It is a smile like no other, a fixed star in an endless night.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

He bobs his head. “Indeed. Formidable, and fearsome, and wonderful. You would like her. And she would adore you.”

There is an instant before he holds your gaze - a flurry of his fingers, a low murmur. And then, the piano bursts into life with a familiar song that shatters your heart into a thousand pieces before restoring them one by one, sealed in gold.

You are shaking. “Gale,” you whisper through tears. “The song–”

He takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. You feel it all - the roughness, the smoothness, the swelling storm, the steady sea. There is so much more you want to tell each other, things that spill over the seams of speech, lapping at the edges of all your empty spaces. In this moment, you do not need it. You simply listen.

****

You are sitting on the balcony. Framed by golden shafts of sunlight, he looks like a vision from your dreams, real and unreal at the same time. You know everything around you is an illusion, a haze of yearning and remembrance. Yet it is truer than anything you have ever seen or felt, greater than all your nightmares, the spectres of the past. It is his world, melting into yours, making you one.

“My favourite spot.”

He pats the velvet seat beneath you. Dust motes shimmer in the rising air.

“Many times, evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words.”

He looks out into the horizon, the shifting waves and seagulls soaring overhead. You are reminded that he has created all of this from memory. The undulations of the arches before you, the chiselled grooves of the stone floor beneath you. The bustling docks and well worn buildings of Waterdeep in the distance. The empty wine glasses on the table, reflecting the setting sun. You feel the love and longing in his creation. You see the mourning in his frown, the dark determination in the twisting of his mouth. A farewell.

“You'll come back here,” you tell him. “When this is all over. You'll be back.”

He turns back to you. There is a faltering, a crack in his conviction. You hope, with every ardent prayer within you, that it is enough.

Your hand seeks his. “What's your happiest memory?”

A fleeting surprise passes over his features, but there is no hesitation.

“This,” he says. “Now. Being here with you.”

You are taken aback by the force of his sincerity, the gratitude that glistens in his gaze. Of all his accolades, all his many accomplishments and adventures, of all the people he has loved and lain with, this is what he cherishes most. You, bruised and battered as you are. Only you.

“And for you, I’ll wait.” He clasps both of your hands in his. “I'll wait for as long as it takes. A thousand years could pass, and I'd still be here, waiting.” His lips curl. “If you'll still have me, that is.”

You cannot help but laugh at his unexpected pun, and the hint of pride in it. Your cheeks flush with the implication of his smirk. It takes you a beat to register what he has said. When you do, you halt.

“Is that a promise?”

He freezes. Desperately, you search his face.

“It's a promise.” You surge forward. “You're going to wait till the day I can give myself to you completely, mind, body and soul. You're going to live.”

He looks down at his hands, wrapped up in yours. You can feel the roiling inside him, the relentless battle between hope and sacrifice. And when his eyes meet yours again, you are overcome by a love that blazes through everything hidden and broken within you.

There is the ghost of a nod, and his hair skims your neck as you reach for him. When your lips find his, he trembles, his hands questing, coming to rest at the small of your back. You cup his cheeks, and the caress of his tongue against yours is a prayer answered. A vow.

In the warmth of his embrace, you watch the weary sun take its dive into the sea. He holds you close, and as the piano whispers your mother’s song, you let the gentle rhythm of his breaths lull you into sleep.

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

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partially-controlled-chaos · 9 months ago

Text

New Life Shall Prosper, ch. 2

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (as gender neutral as possible, given the context)

Rating: T? (not really smut but there's some heavily implied in previous chapters. pregnancy related bits, tad bit of gore)

Warnings: There's not full blown smut but it borders on the edge, mentions of illness and pregnancy, mostly just fluff

Summary: Months after the fall of the Absolute, you and Halsin have carved a happy life for yourselves within Thaniel's Realm, making a safe haven for all. A life full of hope and prosperity, only enhanced once you discover the very real possibility that you are with child.

Word Count: 11.5K

an: This ended up taking so long because it went through three rewrites and it's still massive. BUT I did finally get it posted. There will be one more chapter, possibly two with how I shifted some things, but there's at least one more coming! Thankfully, because I did rewrite and move some things around, about half of the next chapter is already written. Mostly proofread, but I was tired when I posted this so I'll update it later for any mistakes. Thank you to everyone that has enjoyed this so far!!

Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Find chapter 1 here! Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Masterlist

Loving, tender kisses peppering your exposed shoulder and a heavy dip in the bed roused you from your slumber. Slowly, your eyes blinked open as they adjusted to the light, your vision blurry until you could make sense of your surroundings. You recognized the lumbering shape of your beloved druid. With a content smile on his lips, Halsin loomed over you; his arms supporting his weight above your head as his knees dug into the bed by your hip, causing your body to slightly slope downward.

“Good morning, my heart,” he said softly, “how did you sleep?”

“Fine, but I would do better if you would let me sleep a bit longer, love.” You said groggily as you turned your face from the beaming sun. You heard Halsin chuckle as he littered more slow kisses to your cheek.

“As much as I would love to, dear heart, I’m only doing what you asked of me.” You groaned as you buried your face to your pillow, his comment jogging your memory from the night before as he slid from atop you. Since your discovery that you were with child, you’d noticed significant changes to your energy levels. Being one to typically rise early, you’d found yourself sleeping in later each morning and desiring a nap around mid afternoon. Not that you wouldn’t mind to sleep in every once in a while, it just wasn’t suitable to your current lifestyle. You and Halsin were both early to rise and late to bed, filling your day with growing and expanding the area you now called home. Plants needed harvesting, home needed building, children needed enrichment and growth, and all of it simply couldn’t be done if you slept half the day away.

So, to counteract your sudden inability to wake up at a decent hour, you had practically begged Halsin to wake you in the mornings if you were still asleep when he returned from his daily patrols. He reluctantly agreed, wanting you to rest in accordance to what your body wanted, citing that you should be listening to the call of nature and not the call of a city. When you had finally convinced him, you made him promise that he would make sure you would rise and not go back to sleep, something you could kick yourself for now that the moment had come.

“Come on, my love,” he said as he pulled the blankets from your body and exposed you to the cool air of the room, “there’s much to do today and I made a promise.” With a groan of false annoyance, you rubbed your eyes and finally sat up. Halsin stretched out along side you, effectively taking up as much of the bed as he could to dissuade you from crawling back in. His head rested on a closed fist, sitting up partially to still make conversation.

“And what business do we have planned for today that requires such an early start?” You asked as you draped your legs over the edge of the bed, your arms stretching high above your head with interlocked fingers as your back arched forward. When you were done, you glanced over to Halsin after not hearing a response and you found him gazing at you. His eyes slowly traced along your body, a tender smile across his face the lower his eyes traveled.

“Or did you have something else in mind?” You asked in a low voice as you reclined back as best you could, given that the bulk of his frame was in the way.

“With you? Always,” Halsin said with a smirk before offering you an affectionate kiss to the lips, “but there are some matters that require our attention.” His smile had faded by the time the final words left his mouth and his face had lost its softness. It seemed that his need to wake you stretched beyond your request for a wake up call.

“Is something wrong?” You asked as you straightened again. The change in his demeanor was enough cause for concern for your to snap out of your groggy state of mind. Since the fall of the Absolute, there had been very few times that you’d seen Halsin return to his duty driven mindset and he was teetering dangerously close to that precipice. Something was gnawing at his mind, although you weren’t sure what.

“Not quite, but there’s potential. It’s… it’s better if I just show you. Let’s take a walk when you’re dressed.” With a slight degree of hesitation, you made your way to your feet and began to dress. With a lingering yawn you tugged on your small clothes to cover yourself a bit more as you toyed with your hair, trying to your best to brush away the evidence of sleep. You smiled to yourself as you noticed Halsin watching your every step, his admiration for you never faltering even if you did the most mundane of tasks. He looked as if he was lost in a daze; his expression was no more than a lazy smile and half-lidded eyes.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” you said as you caught his gaze, “you’re going to have to do something about it.” With a hearty laugh and a quick shake of his head, the druid sat up from the bed, his eyes still glued to your body.

“Although you are the epitome of nature perfected, my heart, you’re not picking up on what I am.” You raised an eyebrow, your head cocking at the comment.

“And what would that be?” You asked softly. Without another word, he made his way to his feet, offering his hand for you to take with a knowing smile.

He guided you to the standing mirror by the water basin, turning you until your back was pressed to his chest and you both were reflected in the glass. You watched the reflection as his head leaned forward, pressing the softest of kisses to your still bare shoulder as his hands traveled the length of your body, stopping along your waist. You felt his hands lightly grip your hips, angling them forward until he had you in the perfect position. When his hand left your hip and slowly caressed the skin under your navel, you finally realized what Halsin was so transfixed on observing. There, in the reflection of your mirror, you noticed the slightest of swells to your lower belly. It wasn’t a large bump, but nevertheless it was the smallest of bumps beginning to form. After weeks of seeing no progress, you were now staring at the reflection of a pregnant belly.

“Hells, I hadn’t even noticed,” you said softly as you turned your reflection in the mirror to make sure you saw what you thought you did, “and when did you make this discovery, dear bear?” Your eyes were stuck to your reflection, wholeheartedly admiring the tiny bulge of your lower belly. Although you were still early on in your pregnancy, just seeing the evidence of your growing child filled you with an immense sense of joy and almost disbelief. Until now, the idea of being with child didn’t seem real. Other than a bit of morning sickness and being a bit more tired than normal, at times you forgot you were carrying a child. But now, with the proof of one in front of your eyes, it felt more than real.

“Last night,” he whispered in your ear, “after your bath.” You hummed softly as the memory of the previous night flickered in your mind. You had just barely stepped from your bath before you had felt Halsin’s lips and hands caressing your skin and curves, ravishing you until you both needed another washing.

“Well, then,” you said playfully, “that explains your sudden urge last night.” Halsin said nothing, but the low growl and gentle bite to your earlobe confirmed your statement.

After lingering a few moments more to admire the growing bump to your frame, Halsin’s hands left your hips and left you to finish dressing for the day. You said nothing to each other as you hoisted up a pair of trousers and clean shirt, however the silence between you was not strained. Something was on Halsin’s mind, but whatever it was, was not directed towards you. When you had finished dressing and signaled you were ready to go, you were met with the same loving gaze and tender touches. This set your mind a little more at ease even though you were still curious as to what had gotten the druid so tense. It must be something in the community, perhaps the sense of duty, or maybe an issue with one of the refugees. Either way, you were determined to help him through it and set him at east once again.

You walked through your home together, hand in hand, and walked at a pace that wasn’t quite a stroll, but also wasn’t hurried. It had been a while since you had walked the city together, usually preferring to go your own ways and meeting again at the end of the day, so you quite enjoyed the change of schedule. Halsin’s large hand engulfed your own, holding it securely and offering a sense of peace and protection. You eventually made your way to the opposite side of the town, stepping from the cobblestone streets and into the beginning of the wood line.

“Where are we going? I thought we had business in town?” You asked as you continued your stroll, making note of the slightly firmer grasp that he now had on your hand.

“Business, yes, but it’s out in the forest on the outskirts of the town.” Halsin’s vague answers made your shoulders tense. You were not opposed to surprised, but you felt that this one would most certainly be unwelcome.

“Care to enlighten me? You’re not one to keep secrets, my dear.” You nudged Halsin with your shoulder as you walked, hoping it would make him open up and no longer keep you in the dark. You were impatient, wanting only to see what he was leading you to.

“I promise, it’ll be easier if I just show you, just be patient. We’re close now though, as much as it pains me to say it.” You picked up on the slightest hint of dread in his voice, the droop on his face only confirming your observation.

Admittedly, you had been utterly confused by Halsin, not understanding his sudden hesitancy to explain anything. He was always open with you, even with the most grueling of topics, and you were thankful for that. Both because you appreciated being in the loop of knowledge, but also because you didn’t want him to share the brunt of responsibility alone. He had done that enough in the past and it was high time he was able to share his burdens. Before the fall of Ketheric Thorm, you had made a promise to Halsin to help him through any hardships and even though it had been some time since you’d defeated Ketheric, your promise still stood. It always would. It was your vow to him and you were determined to uphold it.

After some time, you both had made your way to a small clearing on the outskirts of your established community on the line where your home met untamed wilderness. With your hand still firmly in his grasp, Halsin took you to one of the first trees along the tree line, walking you to the backside. There, just above your line of sight, was a symbol meticulously carved into the bark. A skull seated partially in a triangle, the outstretched fingers of a hand adorning it like a crown. You recognized the symbol immediately and a familiar twinge of unease settled in your stomach and your breath caught in your throat. Months after the battle, you were staring at the freshly carved symbol of the Absolute.

“I noticed it yesterday when I was roaming,” Halsin’s voice broke the silence and the tension of the moment, “a defilement of nature and a perfectly good scratching post.”

“By the gods.” You whispered softly as your eyes spotted the marking on the tree. You reached out slowly, your fingertips barely grazing the carved symbol in the tree, almost afraid that it would hurt you in some way.

“You’re certain this is new? This isn’t a remnant of a few months ago?” You knew the answer, but still felt the need to ask. It was a fresh, clean mark; something that had only happened in the past day or so. But, there was one small part of you that hoped and prayed it was a relic from all those months ago.

“Oh, very.” He said as he traced his finger along the carving, “Look at the flesh of the tree. It’s still weeping sap and the cut hasn’t yet browned. It’s recent, my heart.”

Your breathing was slow and methodical, an attempt to keep your rising fears at arms length. For a brief moment the idea crossed your mind that somehow the Netherbrain had survived the final battle and was once again enchanting mind flayer tadpoles, but you were certain this wasn’t true. The Netherstones had done their job of convincing the brain to destroy itself and there was no denying that the same brain that had sunk into waters surrounding the city was anything other than dead.

You then remembered the dying man and his siblings you had met on the road very early on in your journey. The man had been infected with the parasite, but his siblings remained free from a worm of their own crawling in their brains. However, they still followed the teachings and the call of the Absolute, despite not being True Souls themselves. You quickly realized that this mark wasn’t left by someone infected with the tadpole, but by someone who still believed in the Absolute. Someone who believed in the teachings and the power it offered enough to begin a resurgence of the cult, even if there were no tadpoles. The idea wasn’t that far fetched. You knew of plenty of instances where cults or even important figures that had fanatics that carried on the legacy of the entity. The most notable one that could come to mind were the handful of people that served the Szarr palace in the hopes of serving a vampiric lord simply because they were enthralled by him.

“I don’t think it’s cause for concern just yet, although we must be vigilant.” He said as he pulled is hand from the bark, “I roamed the woods the entirety of yesterday as well as this morning. This is the only symbol I can find and I haven’t found anyone lingering. Whoever left it, left it as a warning, but is gone from the area.”

“You don’t think it could be someone in town, do you?” You asked after you’d worked your way through your thoughts.

“It’s possible, but highly unlikely. You know them better than I do, so you must know how everyone feels about the Absolute. These are children and adults who lost their homes and had their lives uprooted because of this cult, I don’t believe anyone would be a follower. Unless you think otherwise?”

“No, not at all,” you said as you continued to observe the marking, “but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. As you said, remain vigilant. Let’s see what comes of this.”

“I sent out a scouting party late in the afternoon. They plan on looking further into the forest and beyond to see if they can pick up on any trail. I would go myself, but if there is no pressing need for me to go out then I would prefer to stay here. I have many people I want to protect.” He lightly pressed his hand to your newly discovered bump, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

With another brief look to the symbol, you were ready to leave and return to the safety of your home. You understood why Halsin would always patrol the community and the surrounding area each morning, but you never thought anything would ever come of it. Maybe it was the lull of a peaceful home or perhaps you had just gone soft after the final battle, but this new discovery had caught you off guard. Any sort of resurgence of the cult could lead to disastrous consequences and it threatened the safety of your very home. There were already so many men and women that had been lost and displaced, not to mention the dozen upon dozens of orphaned children you were now in charge of, and the thought that they could face it all again made a shiver run down your spine. To top it off, you were now welcoming your own little one into the world; a world you assumed was safe.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said as you began the long walk home, “I’m not sure what to make of it, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“Don’t let it burden your mind and unsettle your nerves, my heart,” Halsin said as he reclaimed your hand with his, “our home is safe.” You pulled Halsin’s arm around you as you walked, allowing his hand to rest on your lower back as you leaned into his frame. He was right, for the time being your home and community were safe, and you felt even safer being wrapped in his embrace.

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

It had been many weeks since your discovering of the carving in the woods and thankfully everything remained quiet. Life carried on as it had been and you frequently tucked the memory into the far recesses of your mind. You sat cross-legged on your bed, the back of Halsin’s hand rested on your rounded belly as you carefully plucked splinter after splinter from his fingertips. You gently traced your fingers over his, feeling for any more pieces of wood stuck under his skin. Although he was already a skilled whittler, Halsin had recently taken up woodworking. It was a hobby you found to be surprising, but when you learned he desired to master the craft simply because he wanted to hand carve a crib for your little one, you couldn’t be happier. Since then, you always made it a point to pluck any pieces of wood from his fingers.

The partially completed crib sat against the wall of your bedroom, still needing a few finishing touches before it ready for a sleeping baby, but there was still time before it would be needed. Despite needing a bit of sanding and polishing, the crib was absolutely beautiful and incredibly detailed. It taken him a few weeks, but in that short time he had crafted the piece completely by hand and with copious amounts of love. He had even gone so far as to carve the smallest of details along the head of the crib; a parade of carved bear cubs wandering through the beauty of nature and swirls that mimicked the patterns of his tattoos adorned the wood panelling.

With a final look over his hands, you had decided that you’d pulled out any remaining fragments of wood, lifting his large hand from your belly. You held your palm against Halsin’s, taking note in the difference in size. His hands engulfed yours, two of his knuckles easily able to overshadow your fingertips if he were to bend them. Your eyes traveled from his hands and along his arms, observing just how large they actually were and how they seemingly continued to grow at they reached his broad shoulders. You laced your fingers with his as you continued to look him over, not noticing the adoring look on Halsin’s face in the process.

“Is something troubling you, my heart?” He asked as he brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing your fingers.

“Not at all,” you said as his voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you shifted to your regular spot on the bed, “just doing a bit of thinking.” You adjusted the pillows under your head until you were comfortable on your side. With a gentle pat, you motioned for Halsin to join you.

“Do tell, my heart.” He followed your invitation, reclining on his side as well, positioning his head against his hand as he gazed down at you. Gods, you would never tire of the way he looked at you. His gaze was always filled with the utmost admiration and infatuation, which had only increased in the recent months.

“You are rather large for an elf, you know.” You brought your hand to your head, mirroring Halsin’s pose as you spoke.

“Is that so?” Halsin cocked an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his lips at your comment.

“Oh hush, love,” you said with a chuckle, “you know I mean no harm. It just has me wondering about this dear little one of ours.” You ran your hand along the side of your belly with the thought, still in disbelief that you would be having a child in a few months.

“Are you afraid our child might be taller than you one day?” He teased, placing his hand atop yours, seemingly sensing the worry gnawing at your mind.

“Not at all, but I am worried about having to somehow birth a baby the size of quasit if they end up taking after your size.” You chuckled softly, although the thought was seriously lingering in your mind. Elves and half-elves were typically small in build, but Halsin was of course no normal elf. Simply comparing the size of his hands to yours indicated just how big he truly was. So it was very well in the realm of possibility that your newborn would be well above average in size.

“I don’t think they’ll be quite that large my heart,” Halsin said as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, “but even if they are, I’ll be there for you. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. Despite facing the end of the world, the idea of childbirth terrified you. You knew the risks associated with the birthing process and it was a daunting prospect. Healing couldn’t be offered until after the actual birth, so knowing you’d have to endure the hours long process without aid unsettled you.

“Will you be there?” You asked after a moment. You knew it was a dumb question; Halsin wouldn’t dare the miss the birth of his first child or leave you to deal with the trauma of birth alone, but with your hormones fluctuating the way they did, it was nice to have the confirmation.

“Of course, my heart. It’s not even a question.” He quickly kissed your lips in reassurance, “Put your mind at ease. I will be there for the entirety and afterwards.”

Halsin pulled you towards him, nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head, kissing it softly. In turn, you rested your face across the expanse of his chest, taking in his natural warmth and scent as you felt his hand slowly run along your back, soothing your worry. You hummed as you melted against his touch, your muscles finally relaxing after a long day.

“Have you heard anything about the symbols you found?” You asked after a long yawn, the desire for sleep finally catching up to you.

“Last I heard,” Halsin said after a long period of silence, as if he was hesitant to say anything, “there was a small group of followers to the north. Goblins, mostly. And a few orcs if what the scouts have said can be relied upon. Don’t let it bother you tonight, my heart. It can be discussed in the morning.” With your eyes suddenly heavy, you didn’t argue his plea.

Given that it had been many moons since you first discovered the markings on the tree, you weren’t too concerned with the lingering cultists being an immediate threat, but it still crossed your mind frequently. Between the ministrations along your back and sound of Halsin’s steady heartbeat against your ear, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, securely nestled in the embrace of Halsin’s strong arms.

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“It’s a good thing I’m better a wielding a sword than I am a knitting needle,” you said as you observed your work, “otherwise we’d all be mind flayers by now.” You held up the infant sized sweater you’d spent an hour knitting, your nose scrunching in distain when you realized not only was it far too big for a newborn, but lopsided with different lengths on the sleeves and a warbled neckline.

“Well,” Halsin said with a chuckle as he looked up from his whittling, “let us give thanks that nature has blessed you with other talents.” Although he had already finished the beautifully crafted crib, his whittling hobby had picked up even more now that you were close to your due date. Small ducklings, bear cubs, tiny bunnies, and even squirrel kits were all figures he had started carving, the idea of having a child of his own clearly influencing his design choices. Lately, many quiet afternoons were spent like this, with you and your beloved elf taking much needed downtime together, happily preparing for the arrival of your little one.

“I’m sorry,” you said with feigned hurt, “but are you telling me that this isn’t the beauty of natures creation?” You saw his attempt to hide the smirk threatening to come across his face as he eyed your knitting once more, chewing on the side of his lip to keep it from rising.

“I would, but you made it, my heart, not nature.” You snorted and playfully knocked Halsin’s arm with yours before unraveling your hard work in an attempt to remake it.

The two of you were lounging in the center of town, reclined against the large oak that had miraculously been renewed with life when the shadow curse had been lifted. You leaned against one of Halsin’s large arms more than the tree, trying to find some relief for your aching back. If your calculations were correct, you still had roughly two months left before you were set to give birth, but you were heavily struggling with the physical toll it took on your body. Your back frequently ached and pain would settle in your hips, making sitting anywhere absolutely abysmal, not to mention trying to get up by yourself.

Despite this, you could never say you were too burdened with your condition. Halsin always went out of his way to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, which always filled you with a sense of adoration and love. He was always quick to offer a soothing back rub if your muscles were tense from a long day or if the pressure from your growing little one made your bones ache, making sure to massage deeply and slowly until you melted under his touch. Or if you were overtaken by a sudden craving for a particular food, he would be sure to bring you whatever you desired to your hearts content. He would frequently soothe your emotions if you were overcome with confusing hormones, being by your side until you worked through whatever was plaguing you and would stay until he could see you smile again.

In all of this, his desire for you never faltered; if anything, it was stronger than ever. It wasn’t always sexual, however. His desire to just be close to you only grew stronger the more your abdomen grew. Gentle touches across your back, arms touching when sitting together during supper, holding you snugly against his body while you slept; anything to stay close to you. The same sentiment held true even in ursine form, of course. You frequently found yourself sitting beneath a tree or in a sunny field with the head of your bear placed gently in your lap during a midday nap or felt a wet nose nuzzling against your swollen belly.

Not to say that his more intimate desires for you wavered in the slightest. It was hard enough for you to keep your hands off each other before the discovery of your pregnancy, but had only intensified since. Many nights were spent in each others embrace and were filled with soft kisses and playful bites. Each time was always gentle and seemed to feel more loving than the last. In every aspected you could imagine, Halsin was the perfect partner; not that you had imagined any less from him. The love you had for him had only intensified in the recent months and you could see the same sentiment reflected from him each time you caught him staring at you. His eyes always filled with softness and love, something that made your heart melt on a daily basis.

A shift in placement of your baby made you grunt, your side now aching with the pressure of some appendage now pressing into your ribcage. You sat up from your position against the druid, leaning forward and side to side to try and stop the pain. As much as you loved the feeling of the tiny bits of movement here and there, you couldn’t help but groan whenever the child landed in a particularly inconvenient spot. Occasionally you’d feel a kick here and there, but you mostly just felt the entire body of your child moving in your abdomen. Despite being near you constantly, Halsin had yet to feel a kick or a bit of movement from your belly. It always seemed to stop when he placed a hand on your stomach to feel for movement. You felt them, of course, but wished Halsin could do the same.

“Is everything all right?” Halsin asked as he noticed your movements. He placed his whittling knife and piece he’d been working on to the side, turning more towards you in the process. His large hand slowly worked its way up and down your back, trying to rub out any knot or muscle tension.

“Oh yes,” you said with a sharp inhale, “I just feel as if I have a foot in my ribs. Right in here.” You took his hand in yours, sliding it from your back to the side of your belly where the pain was, hoping he would finally have his change to feel the baby move. His thumb lightly caressed your stomach in an attempt to encourage the tiny little foot to move.

“Well, given the circumstance, I’d wager and say you probably do.” He said with a laugh. As the discomfort in your side finally subsided, you found yourself reclining on your hands with your legs extended in front of you. The change of position seemed to move your little one just enough to alleviate the discomfort and you finally had a moment of relaxation. Your head fell back and lightly brushed against the trunk of the tree, your eyes closing as you felt a gentle breeze across your face.

Halsin’s hand remained on your belly, gently running it along the side and around the front until it eventually settled on top. With a deep sigh you finally opened your eyes, your head rolling to the side to meet Halsin’s gaze. However, instead of meeting your eyes, his own were fixed to his hand atop your stomach, a grin spreading across his lips the more he lingered, but there was the faintest hint of something else in his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” You asked softly as you took in his expression. He was lost in thought, his mind drifting as you both sat in the coolness of the shade and you returned to your former position. Your hand rested atop his for a moment before sliding up his forearm and back down, the ministrations finally grabbing his attention from his deep concentration.

“Everything,” Halsin said after a long pause, “as always. But I have to admit that as of late I find myself worrying about you, mostly, my heart.”

“How do I worry you? Is it the baby?” You asked, surprised at his answer, “Please, tell me. Let me ease your mind. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me.”

“Well, partially it’s the child. In my many years I’ve seen countless others give birth and I’m aware of the risks. I know the dangers child bearing can bring and leave in its aftermath. So I have my concerns in relation to that, but most of my concerns lay outside of that.” His palm light trailed across the expanse of your belly; his touch soft and loving.

“Tell me, then, please.” You lightly brushed a few stray strands of hair from his face, tucking them behind a pointed ear.

“We’ve discussed this before, but I have to ask,” he paused as he spoke, that rare look of vulnerability flashing across his face as he tried to form his words, “are you happy? Truly happy? With everything that’s come after the Netherbrain, I mean. Can you say for certain that you are satisfied and content with the life we’ve built here?”

“Halsin, my love, I couldn’t have dreamed of a happier life.” The hand that had brushed through his hair came down his neck and finally rested on his chest, directly above his heart. “Why would you even need to ask such a question?”

“To ease my mind, I suppose. I pulled you from a life of praise and newfound opulence that came from saving Baldur’s Gate only to thrust you into a life of quiet, often thankless, servitude. I just want to be certain that this life is something you want and not something I’ve forced you into; especially now that you are so close to having a child. I don’t want you to have regrets.” He spoke quietly but surely.

“I don’t want or need the praise and wealth the city offered. You, though? You I need. And I can’t go without you for even a second. I chose to leave with you to build a life here because that’s what I wanted. We both did. You didn’t force me into anything. In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, I had to practically beg to convince you that it’s what I wanted, did I not?”

“Oh yes,” he said with a slight smile, “I believe I recall you calling me an ass.”

“I was terrified of you turning me away!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, “You can’t blame me for my words when I wanted nothing more than to follow you and be by your side. And to this day there is nothing I want more. I would choose this life we’ve built and I would choose you again and again.”

You leaned forward slightly, trailing your hand back up along his neck and chest until it rested on his cheek, gently pulling his head towards you until your foreheads met in a gentle caress. You’d come to adore your frequent forehead touches with the elf, almost enjoying them more than a kiss in a moment like this. It was a simple, intimate gesture that brought the both of you so much comfort in moments of insecurity and uncertainty.

“And I would do this all over again in every lifetime, my love. In every possible form we may find ourselves in. All without an ounce of hesitation or regret. And now that we’re having a child? My dearest love, my heart is full. We have built something truly wonderful not only in this community we call home, but something wonderful and beautiful in this tiny little child we’ve created.” You lingered against his skin for a moment more before finally pulling away, your hand still cupping his cheek as you spoke again.

“Halsin, please, don’t every worry that you’ve taken me from something. In reality, you have given me the greatest gift possible. Release those fears from your mind. They hold no weight here.” You whispered softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his tattooed cheek.

“You truly are a gift from Silvanus himself, my heart. You’ve brought back the youthful optimism and stamina of this old, pardon…older druid, my heart.” You smirked at his attempt to remember your distain for referring to himself as old, appreciating the effort.

“Trust me love, if my condition is any indication of how spry you are, I’d say you have the vigor of someone just barely over a hundred.” You said as you began to recline back again. Not satisfied with your quick contact from earlier, he gently took your chin in his grasp and pulled you to him until your lips softly connected. A string of slow, soft kisses soon followed, along with praises coming from each of you after each brush of your lips.

Shouting from across the town square broke the serenity of the moment. You and Halsin both turned in the direction of the commotion, instincts immediately springing into action at the sound. Screams of terror and anger could be heard behind you, steadily growing louder. You were still struggling to even begin to get up when Halsin told you to stay where you were; a command more than a request. Before you had time to argue, Halsin had rushed the the cause of commotion, leaving you on the ground struggling to stand.

“Gods above.” You muttered to yourself as you finally managed to get to your feet, using the tree as support in the process. As quickly but as carefully as you could as to avoid disrupting your little one, you hurried to the sound of the commotion, despite Halsin’s request fo you to stay put.

You had gotten to the town square just in time to see what the commotion was. The freshly deceased body of a war painted goblin was splayed along the ground, its throat having been quickly sliced apart by the enraged cave bear looming over the corpse. You immediately knew the bear to be Halsin, who had no doubt changed at the first sight of the attacking goblin. Two other goblins had accompanied the deceased one, but had quickly turned tail in fear at the emergence of the bear. Not to the surprise of anyone in the community, Halsin quickly chased after them, releasing a roar loud and deep enough that you could feel the reverberations in your body. He would no doubt make quick work of the intruders, giving you the chance to ensure there were no other lingering goblins or nasties before checking in on any potential injuries.

With your hand placed on the underside of your belly for support, you squatted next to the slain goblin, taking note of the silver pendant hanging around its neck. You felt a cold chill run down your spine when you saw the symbol of the Absolute within the safety of your home. Anger surged within you as well, cruising yourself for not handling this problem sooner. Thank the gods that no one was injured, other than the goblin, but the experience was enough to shake everyone. Thaniel’s Realm was meant to be a sanctuary for the lost and lonely, safe from threats of any kind and a place to live in harmony with nature. Now, however, that safety had been shattered and danger was no longer a looming threat, but a real and bloody reality.

You spent the rest of the afternoon checking in with everyone, ensuring their safety and checking for wounds. The children of the realm were shaken by the events of the day, but they were resilient. They had faced too many hardships and dangers with the threat of a mind flayer invasion and Netherbrain control for them to be running from a handful of goblins, but you wanted to be there to lend a hand to hold and a lap to sit on if needed. The nightly supper and bedtime stories for the children continued as usual once the remnants of the mutilated goblin had been cleared away, the usual nightly feel of home returning once everyone had a full belly. You walked home quietly, your mind racing with the events of the day and your emotions high strung. With a grunt of effort you sat on the few steps that led to entrance of your home. You sat in silence, absentmindedly running your hands along the expanse of your stomach as you waited for your druid to return.

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It was well past nightfall by the time Halsin finally returned home to you, bloodied and still in bear form. Even though you were certain would never harm you while in wild shape, there was no denying just how intimidating his form was. His snout was absolutely drenched in goblin blood, splatter even reaching to the top of his head, and you could feel the hot pants of his breath against your legs as he approached. There was the faintest glow still present in his eyes, making it very clear that he was still deeply angry about the situation at hand. The low growls emitting from his chest could be felt in your bones as you gently reached out to place a hand on the underside of his chin. You could feel his pulse begin to return to normal as your fingers brushed against his pulse point, despite the thick layer of fur between his skin and your fingers.

“Come along love,” you said to your bear softly, “let’s get you cleaned up.” His sharp claws were also covered in blood, bits of flesh and cloth dangling from a few of them. Given the sight of him, you didn’t want to imagine what was left of the goblins that had stormed your home, if there even remains at all. Either way, Halsin was drenched in assorted viscera and could do for a warm bath; both to clean and to soothe.

Once you pulled your hand from his chin, the bear erupted in a familiar flash of light, ending the wild shape of the bear and transfiguring Halsin back to an elf, who was just as bloody as the bear. He was still breathing heavily after the transformation, remaining silent as he rolled his neck and shoulders and shook out any remaining feelings of the bear. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself a calming breath before look back to you, his gaze much softer but no less expressive. Despite the intense rage you had witness earlier, he was as gentle as ever with you. With a soft touch, he helped you to your feet before quickly looking over you, checking for injuries. After reassuring Halsin that you and your child were fine, you led him inside and drew him a warm bath.

Once he had seated himself in the water of the washtub, he began to calm and relax more, the temperature of the water helping to ease any remaining tension in his muscles. After he had seemed to cool off a bit, you set to work. With a soft cloth and a gentle touch, you began washing the dark blood from his face. Starting with his forehead and working your way down, you worked quietly, not sure of what to say to ease his mind more. With each wipe of his face, you dunked the soft cloth back into the water to rinse it before returning to his skin. When you wiped away the last of the blood from his chin, he finally spoke.

“We cannot afford to sit idly anymore.” He said as you shifted your attention to the rest of his body, wiping along his chest and down his arms meticulously.

“No,” you murmured as you checked for wounds along his shoulders and arms, “we can’t. We can head out in the morning? The next day perhaps? Figure out where the group is, how strong they are, look at the defenses-” Your speech was quickly cut off before you could finish your thought.

“We? I hope you’re not suggesting that you come along as well.” His brows knitted together at your response, utterly bewildered that you would even suggest such a thing.

“Of course I am,” you said quickly, “I can’t sit at home and twiddle my thumbs and expect you to handle it all. I told you when we first came here that we share the responsibility of our home. It’s not your burden to bear alone, Halsin.”

“And you have done an absolutely beautiful job of doing so, my love, but you must stay here.” His hands lifted from the tinted water, reaching out to cup your cheeks with his palms. He looked you in the eyes, holding a stern gaze with you.

“The people here can survive without us for a few days. They’re not completely helpless. They already do most of the cooking and running of the market and the children will be fine under their watch.” You tossed the cloth into the water, standing in the process. Now was not the time for arguing; it was the time for action. Your home had just been invaded and arguing over who should go and when was irrelevant in your eyes. You were both more than capable of dispatching goblins. You pulled a towel down from a nearby shelf after hearing Halsin hastily step out of the water, patting him dry as you checked his lower body for injuries as well.

“Yes, they can. They are prospering beyond what either of us could have imagined and in such a short time. And we are prospering ourselves,” he softly placed a hand on the peak of your belly, “and we cannot risk losing this blessing.”

“I can take care of myself,” you scoffed at the remark, “it’s not the first time I’ve faced a handful of cultists, my dear.”

“You would be a target.” He said firmly, not relenting in his stance on the matter, “If the remaining followers of the Absolute are just as vicious as I remember then they would target you in an instant. Just by looking at you, it’s no secret that you’re carrying a child. I don’t even want to think of what they could do to you or the child if they managed to get a hold of you.”

You could hear the fear in his voice, despite the firmness in which he spoke. Unfortunately, he was right. Being only a handful of weeks away from going into labor, your belly extended far and would only get bigger from here. Targeting you would be the easiest way to distract a raging cave bear or sword wielding druid. And, realistically, you were in no condition to travel, let alone fight. You had a hard enough time earlier in the afternoon just to get up from the ground. Traversing the land, sleeping on the ground, and battle would not only be uncomfortable, it would be impossible. Not to mention the risks it could pose to your child. It could result in an early birth or a loss of the pregnancy altogether. Plus, the idea of toting around a newborn while trying to hack away goblins would be less than idea.

“I know,” you sighed, resigned to the truth, “I know. It’s agreed then, I’ll stay.”

“Thank you, my heart,” his hands landed on your shoulders now, “if the scouts’ information is correct, it should only be a few days walk to their encampment. Give it a ten-day and we should all be back home.”

“What about you? Are you not staying with me?” It was your turn for confusion to cross your face. You knew Halsin would want to leave with them to battle the upcoming fight, but you needed him at home with you; albeit for more selfish reasons.

“Someone has to lead them,” he said, “they are capable, but they need a leader for battle if it comes to that. And given that most of our neighbors are children, I need to be the one to lead them.” You shook your head, understanding his logic, but disagreeing fully.

“And what happens if you get hurt? Captured? Killed? What then?” The pitch of your voice increased, emotion beginning to get the better of you.

“Were you not just willing to walk into a battle with me while with child? Why has that changed all of a sudden?” He huffed at your reaction, not understanding why you both couldn’t see eye to eye on the situation.

“Because if I’m with you out there then I can see you. I can see with my own eyes that you are safe and alive. If I stay here and you go out there, I’ll be left in the dark. I won’t know if you’re alive or if your corpse is rotting on the side of the road somewhere. Maybe captured and left in a cage to starve or something even worse. I need the peace of mind of knowing with absolute certainty that you’re still breathing, my love.” You’d already saved Halsin from a cage once before, so you knew it was possible for it to happen all over again or worse. No. You needed him home so you could make sure he was safe. Safe to remain with you and safe so he could meet his child.

“If I fall in battle then that is nature’s will. And I’ll have died making sure that you, this community, and this little one are safe. It would be a sacrifice made with love; that I can assure you.” He said softly, trying to ease you into the reality of what was needed.

His words squeezed your heart, making you push from his embrace in recoil. Your lips quivered as your eyes became wet, your breath hitching in your throat. Without another word, he pulled you into him, your arms pinned between his chest and yours. Your cheek was pressed firmly to his bare chest, still slightly damp from the bath, and you felt your throat burn with the anticipation of a sob. You couldn’t think of that; of the possibility of Halsin leaving and never returning because he was killed by an off shoot of a cult you’d already defeated once. He held you tightly to his chest as best he could, given the size of your belly, and kept you there until your breathing had slowed and you could speak without your voice cracking.

“I can’t do this alone,” you said after you’d calmed a bit, “I need you here.” You voice wavered as you spoke. Your memory flittered back to the months you travelled together on the road, camping where you could and bringing the best suited to battle. It was often that when you asked one of your other members to stay behind for a spell, they would always question your judgement. They trusted you with their lives, but there was always the hesitancy of staying behind. Like you in this moment, they felt as if they would be the best choice to bring along. After all, what harm could befall your or everyone else if they came too? As much as you found the back talking to be a nuisance, you finally understood why they would do it. It wasn’t to be in control or undermine your judgements, but it was done simply out of a desire to protect.

And now, you wanted to be the one to protect Halsin from whatever dangers he may face. You had both worked too hard to reach the bliss you’d settled upon to let it be unraveled by a handful of goblins and vagabonds. However, you knew in your heart that you couldn’t go. You were a liability and a target. You needed to stay, much to your dismay. But, despite your sudden realization, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why Halsin specifically needed to go. He needed to stay; for both his sake and yours. The idea of giving birth scared you more than facing the Absolute, but more so the thought of your child losing their father before they could even meet weighed more heavily on your mind. Wherever you need me. That was always what he told you when you asked him to stay in camp. He never questioned or argued or requests then, so why is he now? Why did he have to be so stubborn at times?

“And you won’t be, my love,” he softly kissed your temple again, “but those that are going need guidance and I should be the one to answer that call. I’m not venturing forth because I want to roam or feel the rush of battle. Protecting this place we’ve built, and all those in it, are my duty now. You, my heart, and our little one are my duty. To keep you both safe. As I said, it shouldn’t be more than a ten-day. I’ll be back long before this chid of ours comes; you have my word.”

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Sleep would not come to you in the night. The thought of Halsin leaving you for a ten-day at minimum, potentially more, kept you wide awake with a knot in your stomach. You lay on your side, your back pressed firmly to Halsin’s chest as he slept lightly beside you. His breaths were absent of his typical snores, signaling that he was having trouble sleeping himself or a lesser quality of sleep at the very least. His arm was wrapped securely around you, cradling your heavily extended belly as his gentle breaths tickled the hair on the nape of your neck.

Moonlight trickled in through the window, painting the room in an ethereal glow that would have been idillic if it wasn’t for the foul thoughts swimming in your brain. You knew Halsin was more than capable of surviving against a small band of crazed cult worshippers, but you still had your doubts. Saving your beloved bear from a cage in a goblin camp was the first time you’d met the man, so that particular memory kept eating away at your mind as you tried to sleep. If he did end up captured, or worse, would mean that he would be stuck in whatever gods awful place the remnant cultists were holed up in until someone, more than likely you, could find him.

However, that alone would have to wait until after you birthed your little one because ultimately, Halsin was right. You couldn’t afford to go out adventuring in your current state. You had a hard enough time standing from a seated position due to the size of your ever growing abdomen, so to actively battle someone and not injure yourself or your child would be practically impossible. So, you’d have to wait until after you gave birth, but would also have to decide on how long to wait until after they were born. You couldn’t bring a newborn on the road with you and you also couldn’t bring yourself to leave them home. Suddenly, as if he could sense your unease and inability to rest, you felt Halsin stir beside you.

“Rest, my heart.” He all but growled in your ear, his grip around your tightening around you slightly as he shifted himself again, “You’re going to worry the little one into the world far too early if you don’t ease your mind.” His voice was groggy from sleep, but still firm enough to get his point across.

With a huff, both from annoyance exhaustion and discomfort from the amount of effort it took to move because of your pregnancy, you rolled to your opposite side. You couldn’t be as close to him as you would have liked, given the size of your bump, but you managed as best you could. With your nose nestled into the warmth of the crook of his neck and your arms squeezed between you, you finally found a comfortable position that may allow for the slightest amount of sleep. Halsin’s strong arm surrounded your body once again, his arm lightly tracing patterns along your back in an attempt to soothe your nerves. Eventually, and much to your gratitude, you managed to settle into a slumber. It wasn’t the most peaceful night you’d had in a long while, but you couldn’t argue that some rest was better than none. Your sleep was dreamless; just a dark voice of silence.

Come morning, the familiar embrace of Halsin’s lips to your forehead and calloused hand cupping your chin caused you to stir, your mind slightly foggy from the haze of sleep you’d finally managed to settle into. Your lover was hovered over you, planting his usual loving kisses to your skin to gently rouse you from your slumber. You hummed softly at the touch of his lips, reaching up to place your hand over his only to come into contact with his old bracers. The wood was rough under your touch; familiar yet a stranger in these past months of bliss. When your mind finally cleared of your slumber, you realized he was already dressed for the day, ready to take to the road in pursuit of the Absolute assailants.

“First light was agreed upon, my love. Otherwise I would stay here with you for every precious moment.” He said as you sat up, the resurgence of dread filling you. With a deep sigh, you quickly pulled on a loose fitting outfit with the intention of seeing Halsin off for his journey. You still disagreed with him leaving, but you also knew there would be no changing his mind or stopping him. He was leaving out of duty to protect both his home and his growing family, and he was more than willing to die for both.

“A kiss for the road?” You asked softly after you’d pulled on your quick outfit, meeting him to the main threshold of your home.

“Of course. As if you even had to ask,” Halsin said as his hands rested across your shoulders, "It is as I said before you faced the Netherbrain, this shall not be our last, my heart.”

His lips pressed firmly to yours, but there was still the softness you adored. He was always so, so gentle and loving with you. You gripped the edges of his old armor firmly, desperately trying to keep him as close to you as possible as you shared your parting kiss. He groaned against your lips, not wanting to part from you and only desired to hold you to him, but you both knew you needed to part ways so he could meet the scouting party across town. After all, the sooner he left, the sooner he would return to you and your child.

“A ten-day, I promise.” He said as you finally parted ways, meeting your gaze with soft eyes that almost threatened to form a tear.

“And not a day more.” You said it almost as a command, but you also muttered it as a prayer.

With a brush of his nose to yours, Halsin pulled from you, his eyes lingering on your features for a moment longer before his gaze drifted to your abdomen. He knelt to one knee in front of you, placing both hands on either side of your belly before pressing a lingering kiss to the area above your navel. Once his lips parted, he pressed his forehead to the same spot and you could hear him muttering a prayer to Silvanus for safety and guidance. You placed your hands along his, bowing your head to join in on his prayer. Before long, he finally stood

“Not a single day more, my loves.” He repeated when he finally lifted his hands from your body, turning to leave as he did. You shared one final look to each other before he eventually left, calling out his love for you one more time. You leaned against the doorway to your home, your eyes fixed on Halsin as he made he way across the realm.

When Halsin’s bulking frame finally faded from your line of sight, you couldn’t help but sigh as you strolled your way back inside your shared home. The exhaustion from the terrible nights sleep was still weighing heavily on your tired eyes and with Halsin’s fate in the hands of Silvanus, you decided to try and rest more. There was much to do around the area, but for now the people of Thaniel’s Realm could carry on with your absence for the morning. You plopped down on Halsin’s side of the bed, a grunt escaping your lips in the process. Just as you prepared yourself to crawl back under the covers, you felt it.

You could feel the tiny, glorious little kicks from inside your belly. You smiled at the feeling, running a hand along the patch of skin where the kicks were most prominent. It was always a strange sensation, but a most welcome one. The small amounts of movement you could feel coming from your little one always reminded you how worth the hardships of child bearing were. Every morning you woke up ill, every piece of food that made you nauseous, and each ache and pain your body endured were always worth it just to feel the small signs of life coming from within. You sometimes felt guilty when you felt the movement, a feeling a selfishness always coming to a head when you failed to make it to Halsin in time for him to have a feel for himself. Throughout the entirety of your pregnancy, he had yet to feel a kick from your beloved little child.

When the movement from your belly lasted longer than usual, you decided to make a final attempt at allowing Halsin to sense the movements for himself. Without a moment to spare, you quickly made your way to your feet and out the door to your home, your hand placed firmly along the side of your belly to keep track of the movements. With the grace of a deer crossing a meadow, you flitted your way through town, which was unusually busy and full of residents saying goodbye to those traveling with Halsin. With a string of apologies and pardons, you weaved your way through the crowd, being careful to avoid any collisions. You weren’t sure if Halsin was still even in the town, considering he’d gotten a head start to the journey to the entrance, but you were determined to try your hardest to let him experience the feel of his child.

When you made it to the town square you paused, both to scan the crowd for the druid and to rest. In general, movement had become harder for you the more your abdomen grew, causing you to tired easily and not do a much as you were accustomed to doing. You inhaled through your nose and exhaled slowly through pursed lips as you continued to look for Halsin. You took a few steps forward and were delighted to see that your quick footsteps would soon be rewarded.

“Halsin!” You called when your eyes finally spotted him, quickly ushering him over to you with a wave of your hand, the other placed along the side of your extended belly. Halsin’s head quickly snapped in your direction, seemingly hearing the urgency in your voice as his gaze settled upon you. He had been conversing with Thaniel before you interrupted, but he wasted no time in giving a quick, light pat to the boys shoulders to excuse himself before he made his way to you. His steps were quick, bordering on a jog as he approached as quickly as possible.

“I’m here, my heart.” He said as he came to you, “Is something wrong? What can I do?” You now realize that your excitement had come across as potential cause for concern and that concern had quickly consumed his mind. His face was stoic, but with a quick glance to his eyes you could see the worry building. His hands had instinctively made their to your arms, holding you close as he searched your face for answers. There was a twinge of guilt that made its way through your mind with the realization you had instilled fear in your beloved druid, but knew that concern would quickly melt away once he realized why you’d come to him to urgently.

“Nothing,” you said as gently as you could, your excitement almost taking your breath away, “Nothing’s wrong; far from it. Just…just wait. It’ll come back.” Without giving a more detailed explanation, you took his large hands from their place along your arms and moved them to your abdomen. You both stood there in silence, staring down towards your stomach as you waited for another sign of movement.

“There!” You whispered as quietly as possible, but your excitement had still gotten the better of you, “There, my love. Do you feel it?” You placed your hands atop his, pressing them lightly to your belly with the hopes he could have his first feel the feather light kicks coming from within.

The worry that was written across Halsin’s face quickly disappeared and was replaced with a look of what you could only call bliss. The fear in his eyes softened and his eyelids seemed to droop. His lips pulled into a smile and you could swear you caught the faintest glimpse of a tear threatening to fall to his cheeks.

“Yes, my heart, I do.” Halsin whispered as he pressed lightly against you, desperately wanting to feel another gentle bit of movement. As quietly as he could, the druid gave a gentle chuckle as if he was in disbelief in what he was feeling.

“I was afraid it would stop if I kept walking,” you explained as he shifted his hands around your front side to feel more, “I didn’t want you to miss this.”

With his hands still cradling the swell of your belly, Halsin leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours, sighing happily as he felt another kick against his palm. Several kicks later, you felt him lean more heavily against you, almost nuzzling as his shoulders and muscles relaxed with your touch. He basked in the feeling of his little one moving against your combined touch. You hummed in contentment as you felt him rock you both back and forth slowly, as if you were entangled in a slow dance together. In that moment, despite being surrounded by dozens of people, there were only the two of you, standing together as one to bask in the warmth and joy that was the child wriggling in your belly. Nothing else mattered except the safety of the embrace you shared and the soft, tiny kicks you both could feel.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin, “for everything. For allowing me this moment.”

“Just be sure to be back before this child is born, love,” you said softly, “I want you to enjoy many more.” Your eyes opened only to be met with his soft gaze. You’re not sure how long he’d been looking at you, but the warmth behind his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Oak Father preserve you, my heart.” With a final lingering kiss to your forehead, Halsin reluctantly pulled his hands from your belly as he took a step back.

“You as well, my love.” You said quietly. You knew that if you spoke any louder your voice would crack and tears would spill from your eyes. You understood and respected his obligation to protecting the community he had worked so hard to build, but part of you wanted to be selfish and keep him home. You had seen him in battle many times against the Absolute so you knew his strengths, but you also couldn’t shake the memory of your first meeting in the goblin camp. There was always the very real possibility that he could find himself captured once again or even killed and that thought terrified you to your core. You didn’t want to see anything happen to him for a variety of reasons, but the biggest one being the child the two of you were getting ready to bring into the world.

After everything he had gone through and the misery he’d endured for centuries, he deserved this. He deserved to be there to welcome his child in his arms and drink in those first precious moments. You wanted to see the joy in his face in watching that child prosper in the land he held dear to his heart; to see them flourish and grow to respect the balance between nature and civilization. And, more selfishly, you wanted him there when you gave birth. You were terrified to be alone for that and only wanted his soothing presence there to help you though it all.

As you watched the last of the scouting group leave the gates of the community, you turned to head back towards the market. It would soon be time for dinner and with Halsin now gone, the duty of the community now rested on your shoulders. You offered a quick prayer to Silvanus for the safety of Halsin and the scouting party, but also that your merry band of children would enjoy your nightly bedtime stories in Halsin’s absence.

Tag List: @incrediblethirst, @reignydeys, @thoughts-of-bear, @im-eating-rn, @beardedladyqueen , @simplysaying @emorylovescats, @distelsterncat, @cryingoverpixelsetc

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #gender neutral reader #daddy halsin #halsin romance #halsin brainrot #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #halsin fluff #halsin fanfic

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alastor-is-best-deer-boi · 11 months ago

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The Littlest Morningstar

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Tags: Pre-canon, fluff, domestic fluff, parenthood, canon compliant for the most part I think except maybe one headcanon

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar admire their newborn daughter, Charlotte.

Note: After episode five I just had to write this! I had it stuck in my head and needed to get it out. I know posting it right before new episodes tomorrow seems crazy, but better now than tomorrow I think. Hope you enjoy all the fluff! This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic, so I hope it's not ooc.

Also, I know the title is ironic considering Charlie grows up to be taller than her dad, but it fits in this context.

Additionally, we need more little Charlie gifs! I know it's not accurate to the fic, but it's the best I can do.

Also Read on AO3

Lucifer sat slightly curled up with his wife, Lilith, on their bed. The couple leaned against each other, taking in the quiet, peaceful moment with the newest addition to their family, their newborn daughter.

He watched how his wife doted on her sleeping daughter, bundled up comfortably in a soft blanket. Lilith whispered sweet words to the infant, a smile on her face. Lucifer felt like he’d fallen in love with his wife all over again, his heart full of love for his precious family.

“What’s on your mind, dear?” Lilith spoke, still keeping her tone soft to not wake up Charlotte.

Lucifer looked up at her, a small smile on his face. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have both of you in my life… and, I don’t know, I guess I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with love right now.” He chuckled softly, wiping a tear from his eye.

Lilith beamed, taking his hand in hers for a moment, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb on his skin.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

She let out a small sigh, though still with a happy expression. “Tired… but overjoyed.”

“It was a lot to go through, but you, of course, handled it gracefully throughout the whole thing.” He kissed her hand.

“The whole thing? I feel like you may be exaggerating just a tad.” She joked.

“No, I mean it. How could I possibly lie about my beautiful, strong, and amazing wife, huh? It’s not something I’d do.” He grinned, meaning every word he said.

“Thank you, honey.” Lilith smiled and placed her hand on his cheek, leaning closer to kiss him.

Lucifer gladly accepted, closing his eyes and enjoying her presence. They eventually parted and rested their foreheads together; both smiling.

He pulled away when he heard the tiniest-sounding yawn he’d ever heard in his life; causing a wave of emotions in his heart. Lilith and he looked down at their tiny daughter. Her face had scrunched up, and with some effort, she opened her eyes.

“Oh, just look at her, Luce…” Lilith cooed, making sure her daughter was still settled comfortably in the blanket.

He could feel tears welling up again, quickly wiping them away and smiling. “She’s beautiful.”

“She looks like you, has your eyes.” She murmured, looking down at her with a small smile.

Lucifer felt a swell of pride seeing how similar his daughter’s eyes looked to his. Long ago, he struggled with some of the changes that had been done to him when he fell, the color of his eyes included. But seeing them in his daughter, they suited her wonderfully.

“Her eye shape is like yours, and she kinda has your nose,” he commented. “I think she’s a perfect mix of us, right?”

Lilith couldn’t help but smile again. “Absolutely perfect. Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, really? You sure you’re ready to hand her over? Just look how small she is, practically the size of my hand! So fragile… I just… well, I…” He chuckled nervously, stammering.

“Honey, you won’t hurt her. It’ll be okay.” She cut off his anxious rambling, attempting to soothe him.

Lucifer looked up at her, slightly furrowing his brows and nodding, attempting to get his nervousness under control. “I’m sorry, you’re right… I guess I’m just…”

“Scared? I understand. You’re not alone in this.” She gave him an empathetic look. “We’ve been practicing for the whole nine months. You got this.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and nodded again. “Thank you, Lili. I’m ready.”

“Don’t forget to unbutton your shirt a bit. Skin-to-skin contact is important for newborns.” She explained.

“Oh, uh, right.” Lucifer muttered and worked on unbuttoning a few top buttons on his shirt. He was significantly dressed down for the whole experience, wearing a long-sleeved plain button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and slacks.

When he was done, he held his arms out, carefully taking the infant in a secure hold as his wife slowly passed her to him. Little Charlotte blinked a couple of times, looking around the room. She had managed to wriggle one of her tiny hands out of the swaddle, still having her little fingers in an instinctive fist.

Lucifer held her close to his heart, hoping she could feel all the overwhelming love coming from the people who loved her most. He smiled, listening to her soft breathing and quiet coos.

“We’re so glad you’re here with us, little one,” he spoke softly, noticing how curious she was, continuing to look around. “Yeah, it’s a big change… all these new sights and senses. But you’re safe here with us. I promise.”

Lilith rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, watching them both lovingly.

Lucifer gently touched her soft, chubby cheeks. His thumb carefully rubbed the adorable little red circles on her face. They were just like the ones on his face.

Charlotte made a little content coo, already heading for the process of babbling. Though it would be a long while to get to that point. She reached her tiny hand out, gripping Lucifer’s finger.

“Wow… she’s way stronger than she looks.” He chuckled softly. “I suppose she takes after her mother.”

Lilith placed her hand on theirs for a moment, not fighting the urge to smile again. “She takes after both of her parents.”

He nodded, feeling tears in his eyes start to well up again. “She’s perfect… thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a father, I mean it.” He looked at Lilith, feeling nothing but pure love.

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. Next, she kissed her daughter’s head; causing the newborn’s face to scrunch up in surprise for a split second.

Lucifer chuckled at her adorably confused expression. “You okay, Char Char? I guess it’s another new thing to get used to.”

“Char Char?” Lilith repeated, an amused smile showing on her face. “She’s barely hours old and you’ve already come up with a nickname?”

“Ah, well, I guess I couldn’t help myself… she’s just so cute!” He blushed a little from embarrassment.

“Of course she is. Look who her father is.” Lilith teasingly flirted a little. She laughed shortly, seeing how red his face turned.

“Thank you, dear.” Lucifer smiled and looked away for a brief second before looking back down at his daughter, gaining his composure somewhat.

Even though she wasn’t at the age yet to know how to smile, the corner of Charlotte’s mouth pulled up a little, giving the appearance of a smile.

Lucifer rested his face against Lilith’s shoulder for a second. “I don’t know if I have the strength for this Lili.” His voice muffled slightly.

She picked up on why and chuckled quietly. “Why is that?”

“Just—look at her! My heart can’t take how cute she is,” he said in a hushed tone, turning to look at his daughter again.

“I guess you’ll have to get used to it.” She smiled.

“I have no choice.” He sighed, clearly smiling as well.

Charlotte cooed again, and he gently patted her head, feeling the soft golden curls of her hair.

“I can tell she’s getting sleepy again… or maybe hungry… or both.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m going to have to learn all the differences.”

“You’ll get them in time,” she replied.

“Do you want to take her again?” He asked. “I don’t want to hoard all the baby cuddles…”

“If you’re okay with it, and there’s no such thing as hoarding baby cuddles.”

Lucifer scoffed lightheartedly. “Yet.”

He kissed Charlotte’s little red cheeks before handing her back to her mother. He watched her settle back into her mother’s arms, yawning again.

“Oh, you were right about her being hungry… I’m guessing after this she’ll probably fall asleep again,” Lilith spoke, nursing her daughter.

“Sounds about right. That’s the life of a baby, especially one as new as her.”

Eventually, as they had predicted, Charlotte fell asleep. Lucifer listened to her calm breathing again, feeling at peace, which had been hard to come by in his life before.

“We’re parents now,” he stated. “This is our new life…”

“Still feeling glad about it?” Lilith asked.

“I’m overjoyed.” He spoke honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

She nodded. “I’m sure after a bit we’ll settle into our new routine.”

Lucifer looked up at her and smiled, appreciating how wise she was being. What would he do without her?

“I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m so lucky to have you two… I love you both.” He managed to keep his voice steady.

Lilith kissed his cheek. “I feel the same.”

Lucifer hoped he’d be good at this whole father thing. He knew that realistically every parent made mistakes, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give it his best. And it didn’t change the fact that no matter what, he would love his daughter with everything he had.

“I love you, Charlotte. More than anything.” He thought.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel amazon prime #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #lucifer x lilith #baby fic #kid fic #my writing

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nancy-reads · 1 year ago

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am I the one you think about?

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you're struggling to move all the boxes into your new shop in diagon alley. good thing that you have such a lovely redhead neighbor to help you....after you nearly kill him, of course.

warnings: slight angst and a cliffhanger

authors note: there will be a part two! i promise this has a happy ending i love these two too much. also this is mostly unedited because i really want to post it like right now

CROSS-POSTED TO AO3

As soon as you apparated to your new shop, you knew you should have taken your friends up on their offers to help you move in. The bricks were uneven, the stairs were steep, and you had what felt like a million boxes to move into the shop and the flat above it. Magic would speed up the process, but you could only lift so many at a time.

You’d dropped your third box when you tripped on the stairs and nearly broke your arm. Rubbing your arm and cursing yourself for your stupidity, you weren’t paying attention as you walked outside to retrieve more boxes.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” you cast, anger coloring your tone. Two boxes shot up into the air, and before you could stop them, they hit the man walking past right in the face.

You clapped your hand to your face and lowered your wand, immediately causing the heavy boxes to fall right on top of him.

“Shit!” you cursed as you ran over and squatted next to him. “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

You cursed yourself. Of course he’s not alright. You just hit him in the face with a heavy box. Twice.

“Christ,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You really know how to make an impression.”

Heat flooded your cheeks. Of course, he was attractive too. Fiery red hair, a strong jawline, and freckles all around his face. It looked like he was tall too. You couldn’t really tell since he was mostly on the ground, but he looked strong.

“I am so sorry,” you repeated. “I have some bruising salves and if anything hurts more I can probably fix it, I mean I am a healer-” you cut yourself off. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, I think it's just my pride that’s bruised,” he said, smirking as he moved into a seated position. You cringed as you saw the blue and purple mark that was already developing on his forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to fix that bruise? It looks pretty nasty.”

“Just your pretty face should be fine.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you grabbed the salve. Still, he was cute…

“I don’t know,” you teased as you began applying the ointment to his face. “Delusions like that might indicate some sort of brain damage.”

His smile widened. “Does that mean you’re a hallucination? Because that would be cruel.”

You rolled your eyes as you finished. “Seriously though, I am so sorry,”

“Seriously though, it’s fine,” he mocked with a deadpan expression. “I’m Fred, by the way. My brother and I run that shop over there.”

Fred stood as he pointed to the massive orange shop labeled Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“Really, I couldn’t tell from the massive statue of your face on the front.”

He smirked. “Can’t miss it,” he paused for a second. “And you never told me your name.”

You introduced yourself, and Fred smiled. “Pretty name.”

“Uh…thanks,” you stuttered. It felt like the flush on your face would never go away.

It was silent for a moment before Fred asked, “Do you need any help bringing those boxes up?”

You immediately shook your head. “No, no I’ve got it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you sure?” he smirked. “It seemed like you were struggling a little bit before.”

You glared at him. “I was perfectly fine until you got in the way.”

“Got in the way!” He gasped in mock-anger. “I was simply walking the pavement when someone hit me with like ten flying boxes!”

“It was not ten, you liar,” you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you continued to banter with him. It was just so fun.

“Wow,” he tutted. “Barely known me five minutes and you’re already calling me a liar.”

“I’ve always been a good judge of character.”

Unbeknownst to you, Fred had already taken his wand out of his pocket and was beginning to edge toward the boxes. He waved his wand, and two boxes rose into the air as if they were feathers.

Of course, he has to be good at magic too.

“No. You are gonna go home and make sure that you don’t get hit by any more stray boxes,” you demanded, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

Fred’s smile grew as he lowered the boxes (much more gracefully than you ever have) and placed his hands up in surrender. “How about we make a deal?”

You cocked your head. “What kind of deal?”

He clasped his hands and stepped closer to you. “How about I help you with these boxes-”

“No.”

“Let me finish, I swear did no one teach you that patience is a virtue?” There’s a smiling lilt to his voice that makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“Fortune favors the bold.”

“Anyway,” he continues, smiling still as he rolls his eyes. “I’ll help you with these boxes, and in return, you’ll come and visit me in my shop tomorrow.”

You paused, pretending to think for a moment. Of course, you were going to do it. More time with cute ginger shop boy who was definitely taller than you and looked like he had some very strong arms? How could you say no?

“I suppose I could fit it into my schedule,” you said, daring to elbow him in the side as you both walked toward the boxes.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with more laughs than you thought possible. Fred was so funny, you supposed it made sense that he ran a joke shop. It felt like both of you were laughing every single second.

And the best part was when you found out how strong his arms really were.

Fred had just been telling you about one of his Hogwarts escapades when he and his brother used an age potion to try and enter the Triwizard Tournament.

“So you really grew long white beards?” you couldn’t stop giggling as you followed Fred down the stairs.

Fred threw a smile your way as he reached the bottom of the steps. “Yup. We nearly started fighting each other too. Would have if not for- woah!”

In your incessant laughter, you hadn’t been paying much attention to your very steep stairs and found yourself falling…

…straight into Fred’s very strong arms.

It was silent for a second as you stared into each other’s eyes. His arms held you tightly as if you weighed nothing at all. You could feel heat creeping up your neck.

Fred paused, looking like he was thinking hard about something.

“You know, I guess you could say that you fell for me,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

You smacked his (heavily muscled) arm. “That was disgusting.”

“Sorry darling, I couldn’t resist.”

Was it possible to die from joy and embarrassment at the same time? It had to be.

You told him more about your shop as you floated the last few boxes upstairs. You were opening an apothecary with potions, ointments, and other helpful tools for healing so that people didn’t have to go to St. Mungos every time they had a problem. You were also thinking about offering small healing services once you had more staff.

“Thats so cool!” Fred grinned. “I think we’ll probably end up with some similar customers.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I’ll get all the victims of your schemes.”

“I just sell the stuff,” he objected. “What my customers do is their own business.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Sure Fred. You tell yourself that.”

He gave you an innocent smile as both of you looked outside to realize that you had just brought the last boxes in. You stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” you said. “I did make a promise to see your shop.”

“That you did,” Fred replied. “I better see you. I didn’t carry all these boxes for nothing.”

“That excited to see me, huh?”

“Yes, actually,” his smile was genuine. “I can’t wait to see your reaction to all my ‘schemes’ as you call them.”

Heat spread through your cheeks. “I’m excited to see you too.”

The next day was torture. Showing up at Fred’s shop at eight in the morning would have been the definition of creepy, so you forced yourself to set up your shop and unpack most of your boxes.

You were quite proud of the work you had done for the last few hours. Twinkling lights were strewn around your shop, and magical plants wrapped around the shelves. All in all, the glass potion bottles and herbs would fit right in.

You finally allowed yourself to head upstairs and choose an outfit. It took far longer than it should have, considering that Fred saw you yesterday in what was quite possibly the ugliest outfit you owned.

Then you messed with your hair and your makeup. You knew it was kind of stupid, considering how flirty he had been yesterday, but you wanted to feel confident. And looking good was probably the only way you were going to get there.

Finally, after spending far too long on your appearance, you stepped out the door of your shop. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was the brightest thing on the street, and your eye was immediately drawn to the massive statue of Fred at the front, the orange coloring, and the smiles and laughter that surrounded the building. Even just looking at it made you want to smile.

As you walked briskly toward the building, you could feel your heart beginning to race. You bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that was emerging, because really, you should not have a crush this big. You'd met the man once, for Merlin’s sake.

Your smile immediately dropped when you actually got to the shop.

Because Fred was standing there, his smile wide but different than yesterday. It wasn’t filled with the same laughter and joy. He wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at someone else. He was looking at another girl. Another girl who leaned in a kissed him. And he kissed back.

And you turned on your heel and fled back to your shop.

#sorry #fred weasley x reader #x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #fanfic #writing

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michellemisfit · 4 months ago

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✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

#tag game #weekly tag wednesday #Mys stuff

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oliverljones · 7 months ago

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~to be updated when I post a new fic, so I have them all in one place~

you can find me as bucksclipboard on ao3 💕 kudos and comments make my day!

bucktommy fic masterpost here

be someone (T, 2.4k) | ao3 | rebloggable

A call leaves Buck wondering if he’ll ever be a parent. Not just a donor, a dad. A great dad. Chimney tries to convince him of his qualities – and Eddie has a hard time staying quiet.

or: eddie thinks buck already is someone to chris

will you remember me? (T, 4.5k) | ao3 | rebloggable

You know the trope: Someone suffers from amnesia and they don’t remember their partner. Well, this is the opposite. Buck doesn’t remember a thing – except that he loves Eddie. How is Eddie supposed to tell him they’re not actually together?

for summer of buddie – week 5: break the cliché

nobody compares (G, 1.3k) | ao3 | (ambiguous bucktommy/buddie)

"Sorry", Eddie said and scrunched his nose.

"No, you’re right", Tommy admitted. "I don’t want that. I want to give him something he’ll love."

"Well, then not a gift card. Look, I’ve been a terrible gift giver in relationships, so I’m not judging. But you look like you’re getting a migraine, so maybe… let me help you?"

A deep sigh escaped him. "How?"

or: eddie helps tommy shop for buck's birthday gift and inadvertently makes things worse

unless you're choosing me (T, 4.4k) | ao3 | rebloggable

"Could you check that?", Eddie called from the kitchen. He had insisted to make something for them tonight instead of ordering their usual pizza and ice cream dinner.

"Sure", Buck replied and snatched the phone off the coffee table. He knew the pass code – it was the day Eddie had started working at the 118. There was no new text, just a message from his phone provider, but an earlier conversation was still opened. Before Buck could place the phone back on the table, something caught his eye. Why was Eddie talking to Hen about him?

or: buck reads a text he wasn’t supposed to read

when it all melts down (T, 2.2k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Buck thinks a beach day is the perfect distraction from an empty house and a lack of summer plans. Eddie thinks if Buck walks out of the ocean like a Greek god one more time, he might just lose his mind.

or: there’s only one cure for a frozen tongue after too much ice cream

I wish I could help (E, 2.1k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Eddie is so pent up he can barely focus on his job – and Buck is all too happy to help. That’s just what friends do.

or: I couldn’t find any smut referring to *that* scene in 7x05, so I wrote it

thanks, babe! (T, 1.8k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Eddie accidentally calls Buck babe and refuses to have a meltdown over it. It was just his subconscious betraying him because they were surrounded by couples, right? Right?!

or: I love “accidental” tropes, how did you know

more under the cut

do you want to know a secret (T, 3.2k) | ao3

Buck overworks himself and his family worries. When Eddie overhears a conversation between Maddie and Chimney, he learns he might just have caused Buck’s change in behavior. The good news is – there’s something he can do about it.

or: maddie and chimney worry over pining!buck – eddie takes charge

it's just the thought of you and what I leave behind (T, 6.4k) | ao3 | rebloggable

As the cruise ship starts to sink, Bobby and Athena aren’t the only ones in desperate need of saving. The 118 goes on a high-risk mission and a close call brings Buck and Eddie together.

or: 7x03 reimagined

I let my guard down for a moment (M, 6.5k) | ao3 | rebloggable

"It didn’t stop. Buck went from hoping the packages were from someone special to suspecting someone was toying with him. The hopeless romantic in him was slowly wilting. When he opened the latest letter, suddenly he was not so sure his secret admirer was of the good-natured kind. "

or: who needs police protection when you have eddie diaz by your side?

hold tight, you're slowly coming back to life (T, 3.1k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Eddie runs into Natalia at the grocery store. He learns something about her and Buck’s breakup that gives him the final push to take care of his own complicated love life.

or: what if buck didn’t tell eddie the entire truth

how's your head? (haven't had any complaints) (M, 2.3k) | ao3 | rebloggable

When he glanced over, Buck had already drifted off to sleep. He looked so innocent, Eddie almost couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth mere seconds ago. Almost. Because he was 100 percent sure he’d heard it.

or: you can’t just make this kind of joke and forget about it

rose-colored boy (T, 1.6k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Buck is draped across an armchair, rambling about rosefinches and Eddie just can’t help himself. In some kind of out-of-body experience, he gives his best friend a completely casual, meaningless (lie!) forehead kiss.

or: yes, another accidental kiss fic because I don’t think there can ever be enough

we should be at the club (E, 2.8k) | ao3 | rebloggable

When Buck hears that Eddie has been going golfing to put himself out there, he offers to be his wingman. The world’s worst wingman. Although, to be fair, Eddie brings his best friend to the club and leaves with a new boyfriend.

or: just an excuse for them to wear tight pants and take them off

8 days a week (E, 6.3k) | ao3 | rebloggable

A sweet moment of weakness helps Buck and Eddie get together. While Eddie doesn’t expect much to change about their relationship, Buck slips back into old patterns.

or: eddie notices all the ways buck tries to make himself smaller

don't blame me, love made me crazy (E, 1.6k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Steam was fogging up the room and Eddie cursed inwardly. Was Buck trying to cook himself? Eddie wasn’t one for steaming hot showers but Buck ran cold even on his best days and this wasn’t one of those. He must’ve been desperate to warm up and soothe the pain his bruises were causing him. Eddie was suddenly very aware he was intruding on his best friend's privacy, even if he did need help, and decided to announce himself. “Buck, it’s me, I-“ He stopped in his tracks when Buck came into vision and met his gaze. Worry turned to lust quickly. Buck was hard. Incredibly so.

or: eddie joins buck in the shower (plot? what plot)

I only ever want you (E, 2.7k) | ao3 | rebloggable

When a handsome guy flirts with Eddie, Buck can’t stand to watch. He leaves the 118’s bar outing in a hurry, only for Eddie to follow him to the loft and confront him. A misunderstanding of why Buck is so jealous leads to a confession – and more.

or: there’s jealousy, there’s fighting, there’s delicious makeup sex

love is stored in the picnic basket (T, 4.9k) | ao3 | rebloggable

Buck participates in the 118’s basket bidding on Valentine’s Day and things go exactly as (Bobby) planned. When Eddie is done standing on the sidelines, he makes the grand gesture Buck has been dreaming of.

or: buck’s heart (um, picnic basket) is up for auction and eddie is ready to pay

whose peace are you keeping? (G, 3.9k) | ao3

Buck tells Eddie about the Buckley-Han family dinner and how odd it felt hearing his mother call him a “miracle baby”. Why can’t he trust his parents’ support when that’s all he’s ever wanted? He doesn’t know that Eddie lost his temper with them when they visited the firehouse two years ago. Now it’s time to come clean. A call that feels all too familiar interferes but a good night’s sleep brings them back on track.

or: it’s actually incredibly easy to love evan buckley – and eddie told his parents as much

my heart is trying to crawl out of my chest to get to you (G, 2.1k) | ao3

Buck is released from the hospital and while the rest of his family is understandably on edge about his recovery, Eddie throws himself back into work. He refuses to be a part of Maddie’s “operation buck up buttercup” and Hen grows suspicious. Listen, it’s not like Eddie isn’t worried, quite the opposite actually. He just found a better way to watch over Buck, without having to spill any of his secrets. Unless technology plays a trick on him, as it usually does, and his foolproof plan goes wrong. But Buck might just surprise him.

or: the one where eddie takes buck's recovery a little too seriously

and my attempt at rpf if you're into it:

closer than ever – ryliver (E, 2.k)

if you made it to the end of this post, thank you so much for reading!

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #911 #911 abc #911 fic #fic masterpost #911ramblings

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weevil-wallflower · 7 months ago

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Touch

Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: While away on a mission, Cal couldn't help but yearn for your touch.

Warnings/Tags: No warnings, SFW, no use of Y/N, no pronouns used, can be interpreted as gender-neutral, established relationships, during/post-Jedi: Survivor, no spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.

A.N.: My first entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 1 prompt 'Touch'. I'm hoping to do one for all seven days but with work and studies, I shall see ;3 Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~600

Separated by the vast expanse of the galaxy, Cal Kestis found himself on a mission in the heart of Coruscant while his thoughts lingered on You, his beloved. Among the hustle-bustle of the city planet, his heart ached for the warmth of your touch.

While the redhead walked through the labyrinth-like streets, his mind constantly drifted to the memories of the tender moments you both had together. He missed the feeling of your hand in his, the soft stroke of your fingers against his cheek—which would be often followed up by your sweet words of admiration for his beard. He longed for your comforting embrace that grounded him in times of uncertainty.

Despite the skepticism of his companions—rebels who accompanied him to the mission, and ones who assumed that thoughts of his beloved would distract him from their mission, Cal discovered that the opposite was true; The memory of your touch only strengthened his motivation and propelling him to succeed in his mission, knowing that with each victory, he got closer to the moment when he could hold You once again.

With each passing moment, Cal’s yearning grew stronger, his desire to hold You in his arms overwhelming. He closed his eyes, willing himself to feel your presence, to imagine the sensation of your touch even from across the galaxy.

In the quiet moments between missions, Cal stole fleeting glances at his holocommunicator, wanting to send You a message but unable to find the time to do so during the stressful missions. The distance between you both often felt overwhelming, but he found comfort in the knowledge that the bond he shared with You transcended physical distance.

During a rare moment of respite, Cal sat alone in the cheap, dingy motel room—his temporary quarters while he stayed in Coruscant. He paid his gloomy environment no mind as his thoughts were occupied with You. With a deep breath, the Jedi activated his holocommunicator, your holographic image appearing before him after a few seconds.

“Cal!” You immediately greeted him with a bright smile. “I wasn’t sure when would be the right time to call you cause I didn’t want to distract you from your mission… So, I’ve been waiting for your call instead…” There was an apologetic look in your eyes. “I’m so happy to hear from you. How are you holding up?”

Hearing your sweet voice provided some relief from his stressful mission, like a soothing melody among the chaos, bringing a sense of peace to his tired soul. “My love…” he began, his voice full of longing. “I miss you. I miss your touch.”

In response, your expression softened and your eyes filled with understanding. “I miss you too, Cal,” You replied, your voice gentle and reassuring. “But remember, no matter where you are, my love for you remains unchanged. We’ll be together again very soon. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms, and I’ll make sure to cook all your favourite meals when you’re back. I know you barely feed yourself while you’re out on missions.”

Cal chuckled softly at your playful jab about his poor eating habits. “You know me too well, my love,” he said fondly. “I’m already counting down the days until I can enjoy your cooking again— among other things, of course.”

As you both spoke through the night, your words provided him with the warmth he desperately needed, soothing his restless heart. And in that moment, despite the distance between them, Cal found solace in the knowledge that the love you both shared was unwavering and your bond unbreakable, even in the absence of physical touch.

#calkestisweek2024 #Day 1: Touch #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #star wars #minor angst #hurt/comfort #pining #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #🥀 wallflower writes

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starlightguh · 3 days ago

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Baby It’s Cold Outside

Word Count: 1,875

Summary: The annual Akso Hospital holiday party has more to celebrate, with their head doctor newly engaged. The alcohol and festivities seem to take ahold of the couple as they celebrate.

A/N: Happy holidays! You can also find this fic on Ao3 where I will also be posting my writings for the other holiday stories for the other li! I plan on doing something similar to this where I have a scenario based on a classic Christmas song. Please enjoy!

Akso hospital throws a Christmas party every year. They weren’t over the top extravagant, but for the staff, they were always really rewarding and such a nice reprieve.

For the past two years I’ve been Zayne’s plus one as his girlfriend. Recently however, this will be my first year attending as his fiancé. His coworkers were thrilled when he proposed early December and said that they would put in extra effort to make this Christmas party a special celebration for us.

Currently I was finishing up my hair and makeup in our shared bathroom when Zayne walked in to check up on me.

“We still have an hour to leave before the party,” he placed a kiss on my shoulder.

“I know. I know. I’m just really excited for this year’s party. Plus I heard Grayson ordered us a ride to the party?”

Zayne just chuckles and shakes his head, “Apparently the whole staff thought tonight should be the night that we let loose and celebrate.”

“They’re not wrong. You’ve been quite busy since our engagement to really celebrate. But your patients are safe….So your favorite patient is giving you permission to let loose tonight.” I turn and kiss his cheek since I haven’t put my lipstick on yet.

“Alright. But I won’t get too irresponsible, I still have to look after you,” his eyes trail down my form as he surveys the skin tight red dress he bought me for this occasion.

“I think I can handle myself,” I quirk my brow with a slight pout, “Besides it’s rare for Dr. Zayne to be allowed a moment of celebration. I think your team will be happy to know all their party planning efforts didn’t go to waste.”

“We’ll look after each other,” he runs the backside of his finger down the exposed skin on my arm, causing me to shiver.

“Always,” I snatch his hand from my shoulder and placed it on my blushing cheeks.

Getting ready was an easy process, till I was nearly finished and could hardly keep Zayne off of me. His lips sent chills up my spine as his lips ghosted so softly over the nape of my neck with such a passion.

“Zayne, I’m not letting you ditch this party,” I huff as his lips meet my jawline.

“But how could I refuse a taste of such a delicious sight before me?” He whines a bit as his teeth get ahold of the top of my ear.

“Paws off mister,” I playfully shove his chest, “We’re leaving for this party in a few minutes and I intend on leaving our apartment fully clothed thank you.”

He laughs at my words and concedes as he pulls away and puts his hands up in the air as a sign of innocence. “If my wife demands it, who am I not to listen?”

“ Fiance ,” I correct him.

“That’s just another word for my wife to me,” his hazel eyes sparkle with hints of mischief in them as he smirks to retort to me.

Before he could start another onslaught of kisses, our ride to the party shows up and we grab our coats and head over.

As we arrive to the rented out conference space in a fancy five star hotel, Zayne is immediately met with excited greetings from his peers and colleagues. I think this was my favorite part about attending the holiday parties, sure I visited Zayne a lot at work sometimes, but seeing how many people respect and look up to him makes my heart warm. He works so hard, and to me, every moment and minute of his efforts have all been worth it for moments like these.

“Oh! This misses is here too, very nice to meet you ma’am I’ve been doing a rotation with your husband and he’s taught me so much,” an excited young man says as he shakes my hand with such enthusiasm I can’t help but chuckle.

“I’m glad, my fiance has been such an inspiration to you, I hope you also continue to take care of him in the workplace,” I move my hand over to block the side of my mouth that Zayne could see, “He really forgets to take care of himself sometimes, don’t let his coolness fool you.”

“I can hear you dear,” he pinches my side in retaliation.

We make our way through the decorated venue with ease after some greetings when Greyson excitedly approaches us with a bottle of champagne, “Zayne! Misses!” With his glasses askew he presents us with a bottle, “Congratulations on your engagement!”

“Thank you Greyson,” I laugh and take the bottle from him, “Shall we pour some glasses for the rest of the guests to do a toast?”

Zayne is being quiet, I peer over at him, and his ears have a red tint to them as he looks off pretending to be uninterested.

So bashful, I think to myself.

As champagne flows, a very cheerful Yvonne joins us as she seems to be on her third glass of eggnog and clinging on to my waist in a joyful hug, “It’s about time! We’ve been waiting forever for you to finally marry this woman doctor! You better not take this long to have babies either!”

Greyson panics immediately and takes Yvonne off me with a nervous chuckle and a very embarrassed Dr. Zayne. Zayne downs his champagne flute in record time to ease his nerves and I can’t help but laugh at this whole scenario.

“Thank you Yvonne, we’re very excited for the future,” I turn to my shy fiance, “Right dear?”

“Yes. I know this was a long time coming, but I wanted to ensure the timing was right for both of us,” he pauses his speech with a sweet smile, “I am very happy to have my team’s support to my future wife. Thank you guys.”

After he says this, a group of doctors squee with excited and we all clink our glasses and toast to the future Dr. Zayne and I have ahead of us.

The flute of champagne was the first drink for both me and Zayne, but the team ensured it was not the last. I immediately had an espresso martini shoved in my hand and Zayne had some cranberry cocktail that tasted delicious. He forced me to swap with him since he hated me drinking too much coffee due to my ‘heart condition.’ I did call him a party pooper, but sipped my cranberry concoction with delight.

Time seemed to drift away from me as the warm buzz of alcohol took over my system. While Zayne never once let go of my hand or waist, I knew he was drunk based off his grip on my person. He held his composure well, but I spotted the subtle signs of intoxication.

I think I should write Greyson a personal thank-you note, as he had poured the shot that had sent my poor doctor over the edge. As soon as the tequila shot hit light-weight doctor Zayne’s system, that man had his head in the crook of my neck.

I rubbed my hand up and down his back, “You alright baby?”

“Mmmm,” he purred right in my ear, “You feel so warm…”

“So do you,” I brush my hand through his dark hair.

“Maybe I’m stealing your warmth.”

“Oh? So you’re a thief now huh? What a divergence in career paths Doctor.”

He chuckles and the vibrations from his voice rumble on my body, “Guilty as charged when it comes to you.”

Suddenly our flirty drunk moment is interupted by the nice apprentance that greeted us when we walked in, “Misses, Dr. Zayne! You guys should really do karaoke, Yvonne said you’re naturals at it!”

A flushed Zayne detached himself from my neck and stood tall in front of his underling and nodded his head, “Yeah, we are. Let’s show them darling,” he grabs my hand and pulls me on stage.

Drunk Zayne was very confident. In truth, I’ve never heard my fiance sing, he’s hummed ‘Mary had a little lamb’ once or twice in private moments, but we’ve never done karaoke together.

Suddenly the jazz swing tune of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ starts as we’re both handed microphones. I haven’t even begun to sing, but all the Akso hospital staff is clapping and cheering as us newly engaged lovers take the stage to sing this christmas classic.

I start the song off with a gentle, “I really can’t stayy.”

And my jaw goes slack as Zayne’s deep velvety voice sings, “But baby it’s cold outside.”

He sounded like a natural jazz singer and it caused me to laugh a bit as I sang out my next line of, “I gotta go wayy.”

Zayne really got into his role as he grabbed my hands and rubbed the back of them while singing, “I’lll hold your hands they’re just like icee.”

As I sing I pretend to try and be leaving and he keeps pulling me into him to match the lyrics of the song. I honestly cannot tell if I sound amazing or terrible as my heart starts to race when he sang “Your eyes are like starlight now…” with his hazel drunken eyes boring into me as he holds my waist.

Our voices merge together as we sing the chorus, “Baby it’s colddd outsiidde.”

“You’re very pushy you know?” I say playfully reading off the dialogue within the song.

“I like to think of it as opertinustic,” Zayne delivers sarcastically with a flirtatious laugh.

The crowd in front of us feels like they’ve disappeared as me and Zayne continue to sing through this playful and flirtatious Christmas song. He begins to twirl me around as I sing out, “But maybe just a cigarette more.”

We finish the song with laughter as Zayne dips me low and lifts me up with a huge smile, he kisses me chastly, but we’re interrupted by the Akso hospital staff whistling and cheering.

“Thats our boss!”

“Go Dr. Zayne!”

“Wow I didn’t know he could sing like that.”

I then flush red and exit the stage with Zayne in hand and we’re met with the staff congratulating us once again. Someone hands Zayne another drink, but I snatch it away, “I’m cutting you off Dr. Jazz singer.”

“Are you impressed?”

“Beyond! I wish I knew sooner how well you sing, we could’ve been dominating the karaoke bars.”

“Let’s go on our next off day then,” he kiss my cheek.

“I’ll hold you to that, husband .”

His eyes widen and he takes a step back, “Finally, you’re using the word I’ve been dying to hear since we’ve been engaged.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, “I’ll be sure to use it more often, husband .”

Zayne places both hands around my lower body and says, “Maybe we should head out of here early, wife.”

I laugh and swat at his chest with a tease, “But, baby it’s cold outside.”

Needless to say, this was one of the most memorable Akso Hospital Christmas parties for us as a couple. And apparently for them as a staff as videos of me and Zayne singing would continue to float around for many Christmas’s to come.

~fin~

#love and deepspace #lads fanfic #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #lads zayne #Christmas fic #zayne lads

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bi-focal12 · 3 days ago

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@probabydeadbynow i saw your user (though im now realizing i misread it, lol) and it sparked this short fic idea so i wanted to share it with you before i post to ao3 (bnha, no quirk AU)

There was a piece of graffiti Izuku always saw around town. Sometimes it’d be done in white, other times blue, but most of the time it was purple- each letter looped and sprawling and bleeding into the next.

Probably dead by now, it always said.

Izuku didn’t know why he liked it so much. It felt odd to smile at those words when he saw them spray painted underneath the Musutafu bridge but, then again, he remembered seeing those same exact words when he was being driven home from the hospital after breaking his arm for the first time, a lollipop between his lips and a new All Might plush under his arm. And then again the morning his Dad came home for Christmas, surprising Izuku at the door. And then again the day of Kacchan’s 10th birthday party. The one with the All Might impersonator that had carried them both around on his shoulders for a while, their sweaty hands linked behind his head for no other reason except that they were happy.

White then blue then white again. Purple today.

Probably dead by now, it always said.

Probably not, Izuku thought back, peering out of the passenger window with a growing smile.

Izuku had never seen the artist. Never even caught a glimpse, but their handwriting was paint-splattered over so many of Izuku’s brightest memories.

“What’s got you so smiley, huh?” Kacchan asked.

Izuku turned away from the window, watching the way Kacchan’s sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel like his life depended on it. He’d only had his license for a few weeks now.

“I think something good’s going to happen today,” Izuku replied.

Privately, he was pretty sure it already had.

Kacchan hadn’t invited Izuku anywhere since that 10th birthday party at the arcade and now they were on their way to tour a newly built school together.

Kacchan scoffed lightly. “What’s so good about college?” he shot back.

“I don’t know,” Izuku replied honestly, idly flicking through the UA pamphlet resting on his lap. “Maybe…” Izuku glanced towards Kacchan. Quieter, he said, “Maybe we’ll end up going there together. You know, like old times?”

Really old times, anyway. When Izuku would trade his apple slices for Kacchan’s potato chips at lunchtime and they’d walk home together in their baby blue smocks, hands clasped firmly together.

Not like the way they’d make passing eye contact in the halls of their high school, always in opposite motion even if Izuku’s eyes would sometimes trail after Kacchan's back.

Even if sometimes he caught Kacchan looking, too.

Kacchan was quiet for a few moments, the careful tick of the turn signal a feeble echo of Izuku’s hammering pulse.

Izuku was pretty sure he remembered seeing that same graffiti- purple, and nearly washed out by a recent rainstorm- the day Kacchan threw Izuku’s notebook from a third story window in junior high.

“Just don’t expect me to fucking hold your hand,” Kacchan eventually bit out, eyes averted- his focus too intense on the empty road for it mean anything other than embarrassment.

His tone too light for it to even feel like a denial.

Izuku quickly turned his gaze to his knees, smothering a smile. The UA pamphlet creased beneath his fingers.

Probably dead by now.

Purple. Scribbled across the window of an empty storefront.

Kacchan had grabbed Izuku’s hand two blocks later and shoved that same pamphlet at him, holding on for a beat too long.

“You dropped that,” he’d lied.

His hand had been warm.

“My dad and I were gonna tour it this weekend but he’s got a work thing.”

Izuku’s eyes had been wide and curious. He’d held his breath while Kacchan scratched the back of his neck and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground, casting around for the right words to say.

“I guess you could take his spot or whatever,” he’d continued with a shrug. “If you pay for gas. ‘Cause I’m going whether you catch a ride or not.”

Izuku had thought that Kacchan would probably leave him in the dust by the time it came to go to college. Or not go, he supposed, but…

Izuku lifted his head again, listening to the way Kacchan hummed softly along with the radio. His sunglasses were All Might themed- a custom release with a subtle design that Izuku hadn’t been able to afford.

There was a second pair, just like it, shoved towards Izuku’s chest when he first climbed into Kacchan’s car, along with a muttered comment about how Kacchan didn’t want to hear any crybaby complaints about the sun.

They rested comfortably on Izuku’s head now.

Probably dead by now, it always said.

Izuku pulled them down until everything in his field of vision was tinged a soft yellow.

Life was funny that way, he thought.

#honestly not sure if this leans more gen or more slash #though ig either way its about rebuilding a friendship #bnha #mha #writeblr #dabi the graffiti artist has no idea his art has become izuku's (mostly) good sign omen #but thats just life #we're always making impacts on ppl in ways we dont expect or always know and i think thats pretty neat #writers on tumblr #fanfic #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #bkdk

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chronicroderick · 11 months ago

Text

Old Games

Hannibal has been manipulative because he's bored and provokes Will into taking matters into his own hands.

Shameless Smut, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Consensual Violence, Blood Kink, Knife Kink, Scarification, Canon Typical Toxicity, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Wound Fingering, Post-Fall

Old Games on Ao3

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Will was beating the shit out of him, and God, was Hannibal rock hard. This was no fantasy, though there had been many times when it was. This was real, flesh on flesh, knuckles digging into his cheek bones, causing his teeth to clack with each blow. How strong Will was. How resilient those hands were. That was the only thing going through his mind as he tasted his own blood in his mouth.

Hannibal had been more shrewd than usual lately. Picking at Will, second guessing him, even when it was not necessary. Was he sure that he could pick the freshest vegetables from the grocery store? Did he turn the water off completely after washing his face before bed? Was every one of his little mongrel dogs accounted for or did he leave one outside? Will had never forgotten one of his pets, but there was ‘a first time for everything’. Besides his contrariness, the two men had lived the closest thing to domestic bliss that either one of them had ever experienced, even before the fall.

Here they were, off the coast of some Greek island – Will wanted to settle somewhere that was new to the both of them – in a home built from the ground up. It was adobe, white to match the local buildings, set a great distance from any other living soul on a modest cut of land. They had a fenced in garden, expansive, and they had dogs. They would occasionally take day trips to the large islands and scout for new sources of meat. Will went fishing almost every morning and Hannibal would join him, sitting on the shore, reading a book, every now and then glancing up from his page to gaze at his lover who floated far away on his canoe. They should be happy. He didn’t feel happy. He felt bored.

So here he was, flat on his back, Will sitting on his stomach, while those strong fisherman’s hands smashed his face to a bloody pulp. The flames of pain caressed him, cut through him, searing in the cut on his eyebrow now, down into his skull and his brain. A tightness twisting low in his gut. What had he said? Oh, yes.

“Where else would I go?” Will had piped up while Hannibal was chopping carrots.

“What was that, my love?”

“Don’t ‘my love’, me, Hannibal.”

He was only Hannibal when he had done something wrong.

“You think I’m afraid you wish to be somewhere else. You betrayed the FBI for me, Will. We have killed together. We ran away together. As far as I am concerned we are an inseparable pair and I do not understand why you are so paranoid about these things.”

Will stood from where he leaned against the island in the middle of the room and walked up next to him, one hip against the counter and arms crossed over his chest. Hannibal stilled his hands and looked at Will with a warm smile that he knew would infuriate him.

Will frowned, “If you keep playing the fool I’m going to lose my temper.”

A thrill ran down Hannibal’s spine at the threat. At a degree in which he had not felt in a very long time.

“What part do you wish me to play then?” He tilted his head, smile still on his face, fingers curling ever so slightly tighter around the chef’s knife.

Will narrowed his eyes, purposefully keeping them off of the weapon, those ocean blue rings raging darkly behind his glasses. He was so beautiful when he was angry. So stimulating.

“You’ve been toying lately. Undermining me. Eroding.”

This was dangerous territory. Before Hannibal had started picking at Will’s scabs, they had had many heartfelt conversations, one of which included the brunette expressing his fear that his thoughts and actions were not his own, even after all this time. He had soothed him then. He did not feel like soothing him now.

“You speak of me like some spurned housewife.”

“You don’t deny it.” There was an edge to Will’s voice.

“What reason would I have to do such a thing? We are long past the game of cat and mouse,” He turned away, chopping the rest of the carrot, with a dismissive tone, “really, you’re quite the by product of your post traumatic stress, you should quit—”

“Don’t.” Will interpreted, and Hannibal could almost hear his knuckles creak as he formed a fist.

He smiled to himself, knowing full well how it would be interpreted, “Being so paranoid, my love.”

To say the blow came out of nowhere would be a lie, but he had underestimated the hatred behind it, fueling its power, as it caught him across the side of the face. It gave him a headache immediately, Hannibal instinctually switching his grip on the knife, blade pointed down, but Will knew him well. He could feel the calluses against his forearm as his wrist was smashed into the stone countertop with enough force to send shooting nerve pain up his arm, the knife falling from his hand.

Hannibal growled, half anger at being surprised and half pleasure, his other hand coming up to grab Will by the throat, fingers digging into the sides of his neck and pushing the man backwards until his back slammed against the refrigerator. Will’s left hand still held Hannibal’s arm, but his right arm came up, elbow crashing down on Hannibal’s arm, breaking his grip on the other man’s throat. He was feral, unpredictable and blind to the admiration in Hannibal’s gaze as he threw all of his weight into his shoulder and lunged like a football player, tackling Hannibal to the ground.

His head hit the wood floor with a hard knock, dazing him slightly, but his lover did not let the moment go to waste. He felt the weight of Will on his stomach, knees pinning down his out flung arms as they painfully crushed his elbows. His nose crunched with the second punch that was thrown his way, the third surely would have broken it as well, were it not already broken. Will was saying something, something hard to make out over the sound of the blood rushing in Hannibal’s ears and the ringing of his head injury.

“... paranoid. After all those years of manipulating me. Here I am. Here I am.”

Planting his feet, he attempted to buck Will off him, giving himself a chance to roll over, but the moment his weight shifted, he got a swift blow to the eye socket. It was mean enough to cut his eyebrow open, blood pooling at the corner of his eye like a great well of tears, and sloppy enough that it could have caused serious optic damage. The severity of the situation dawned on him. His cock twitched.

“Will –”

There was no reply, only another blow to the face. They rained down on him now, one after the other. He did not fight, did not even struggle. He took in a ragged breath, smothered with arousal, determined to take in every detail of this moment with all five senses. All of Will’s pain and rage washed over him. He could feel the way his skin tore apart, ragged, under the force of Will’s hands. It was delicious to know that he was the cause of such strong emotions. He could hear Will’s heavy breathing, hitching slightly when he exerted himself. It was him, Hannibal, that had so much influence in Will’s life. No one else. He smiled, his lip split in two places, and it felt like being cut with a razor blade as the skin stretched over his teeth. His brown eyes twinkled up at Will, taking in the sight of his bloody knuckles, unsure if it was just his blood. Hoping it was both of theirs. The idea blew his pupils wide. Will’s features darkened and he grabbed Hannibal by the collar of his shirt, before bashing his head into the floor over and over.

“I gave up everything for you! You don’t get to play games anymore.”

He was disappointed that Will had not positioned himself on his lap, for his cock stood at full attention, the inside of his boxers damp with a spot of precum. How ruthless his lover was. Hannibal wished to grind himself against him, while those well trained hands gripped him by the hair, guiding his lucid head to look up. There was a constant throbbing in the back of his skull, his hair plastered to his head with a thick, wet warmth. The kitchen stank of blood, or maybe it was just everything that was pouring out of his nose. When he saw Will’s hard features searching his face, he was filled with a sense of certainty that this was what their victims saw before death overtook them, and need cut through him. Will’s eyes narrowed, which was no surprise, he could read Hannibal like no other.

“You’re hard right now.” He stated disapprovingly.

“I am.” Hannibal replied, blood staining his teeth pink as he smiled.

“You’re not mad at me,” Will blinked once.

“I am not.”

When Will only silently leaned back, removing the weight of his knees from Hannibal’s elbows, he was afraid their altercation would yield no sexual satisfaction.

“Mylimasis,” He whispered, flecks of his blood spraying across Will’s face as he spoke, “do you not find the spark of our old games as exciting as I do?”

Will scoffed, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, “You goaded me because you miss getting off to our rivalry?”

“I miss when you were not a domestic animal, Will Graham.”

He could not hide the truth of his words, dismay hitting him like a freight train as he saw the way they made Will’s face twist. As he opened his mouth to explain himself, a hand closed over it, smelling strongly of sweat and blood.

“Not a word.” Will said monotonically.

When he was sure Hannibal would not speak, he removed it, and scooted his hips backwards until he sat right on top of Hannibal’s clothed dick. This made him sigh, the pressure bringing relief, but in return Will slapped him hard enough to turn his cheek red. He gave Will a surprised look and the other man only frowned.

“No sounds either.”

They could both feel the way Hannibal’s cock twitched against Will’s ass. He nodded, just barely, maintaining searing eye contact with Will who was cold as ice. Will began moving his hips back and forth, grinding down on Hannibal who bucked his hips up against him eagerly. He needed to feel more, so much more. His nose ached, the pain pulsing out into the rest of his face as his heartbeat quickened. Will’s hard on was evident, the outline of it visible against his pants, Hannibal eyed it hungrily. His tongue dashed out, wetting his lips, playing over the cuts on them, as he watched Will’s body move above his. He looked glorious, all dark curls and severe jawline, his skin coral and cream as he palmed himself over his clothes. His blue eyes caught sight of the ministrations of Hannibal’s tongue and he leaned down, their dicks rubbing together as he licked one of the cut’s on Hannibal’s lips. The sensation made Hannibal’s hole clench, his eyes fluttered shut as Will lapped up the blood from the second cut. He hissed when he felt Will’s teeth sink into his lip, fresh blood flooding his mouth from the open wound, and because he made a noise Will bit harder, creating puncture wounds and ripping it open more. Will ground his cock against Hannibal, relentlessly dry humping as he kissed him. All Hannibal could taste was his own blood, it was electric, swirling around his mouth on the vessel of Will’s tongue. Will’s lips tasted metallic, soft yet unyielding, Hannibal licked at the back of his teeth, rubbing his tongue over the other man’s with a clear desperation. Will pulled back, got off of his lap, then undid his belt.

Hannibal followed suit, shoving his pants down without a word, his cock springing free. Will didn’t look at him, he only tugged his own pants and underwear off over his shoes, and flung them to the side. Hannibal felt like his excitement was visible to the naked eye, the way the scent of his blood flooded his senses, his skull pounding in time with the rushing in his veins, the thick swallow he had to take every couple seconds, it all stoked his desire, the object of which now crouched over him, hovering just above his aching cock. He looked down at himself, saw how stiff his dick was, flushed pink, thick and sure to spread Will open like many times before. He almost whined like a dog when his lover gently lowered himself, his hole squeezing his tip over and over, precum slicking the entrance. Then the sensation was gone, Will was standing over him now, looking down with that cutting gaze.

“Will?” Hannibal protested the lack of contact.

Shaking his head, Will’s hand wandered the counter, in search of something out of Hannibal’s line of sight.

“You want the delight of carnage. I'll oblige.”

The blade of a knife glinted in the sunlight that came through the window as Will inspected it, surely for Hannibal’s benefit. It was lean, one they often used to filet seafood. His cock jerked and he wiggled his loosened front tooth with his tongue.

“It seems you almost knocked my tooth out, my love.” He tried to hide the elation in his voice as he once again spoke out of turn.

Will fell to his knees, straddling Hannibal once again, their bare dicks rubbing together as he worked the tip of the knife into the small crevice of tender flesh between his collarbone and his shoulder. Hannibal closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He tried not to think about the hole that was cut in his shirt. Will twisted the knife as if he was lazily trying to start a fire, tearing more fabric and skin. It made his head spin. When he did not respond, Will pushed slightly harder, until a half inch of stainless steel was inside him. He could feel the warmth of his blood welling up around the tip. Felt the warmth of it pooling into his clothes.

“You could cause serious nerve damage if you're unfamiliar with what you're attempting.” Hannibal chimed clinically.

“Enjoying being a brat, are we?” Will purred, gently pulling the blade towards him, cutting Hannibal at such a slow pace it was ripping more than slicing.

The blue eyed man hummed happily as Hannibal bucked his hips, their cocks sliding over one another, his precum wetting his own happy trail. Will moved on, tracing the knife lightly over Hannibal’s chest, poking and prodding every now and then until he settled just below his belly button. Hannibal watched the entire time, never taking his eyes off those brilliant hands as Will gripped the hem of his shirt and cut it in one long go right up the middle, as if he was being gutted. The fabric fell open, revealing his chest and stomach that already had a few red marks, and Will pushed it out of the way, ghosting his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair. He rubbed his hips teasingly, cock brushing back and forth against Hannibal’s, resting all his weight on the hand in the center of the older man’s chest. Holding him down. Hannibal could feel his heartbeat thumping against Will’s palm. With the knife in the crook of the L of his thumb and forefinger, directly over Hannibal’s heart, Will applied pressure, the sharp bite of which bloomed outwards.

“Put it in.” It wasn't a demand or a question, it was like Will was observing the weather or their horoscopes.

He was more than happy to obey, grabbing hold of himself, resisting the urge to pump his cock, and lined it up with Will’s hole. Not a moment after his tip brushed the man’s ass did his lover sit himself onto it, slowly taking his cock, never taking his eyes off Hannibal’s face nor the knife off his chest. Instead, the more length he took, the deeper he drove the blade into Hannibal’s sternum. It was overwhelming.

“Penetrating me as I penetrate you?” He quipped. This was all part of it. Will knew he could never resist a chance to prove he would be willing to take things further than Will would.

In response Will cut into him. It wasn't hesitant or jerky, it was almost surgical. Deep enough for blood to spill immediately, but shallow enough that Hannibal was not afraid for his life. It hurt, it made him tense involuntarily as the knife made its way down his chest, leaving a burning crimson trail behind. All while his cock was slowly buried to the hilt inside the other man. He groaned, not trying to be a smartass, as Will began moving up and down, but was punished for his transgression anyways when the knife sunk deeper. The scarring would be unavoidable at this point. Hannibal ground his teeth together to keep from speaking, grabbed Will by the hips and helped him ride faster. His dick was being squeezed so tight, pumping in and out of Will’s hole as he watched the brunette’s cock bounce with every thrust. He pounded up into Will, hips snapping against the bottom of his ass. His passion made the work of the knife unsteady, dipping deeper and shallower with no design at all, the line Will was creating winding ever so slightly like a river down to just above his belly button. Hannibal could feel drops of blood cascading down his belly towards his ribs. Will moaned above him, clenching down on his dick, then ran two shaky fingers up the wound he had just inflicted, never slowing down, Hannibal violent in his thrusts that made every curl on Will’s head bob.

Will brought the two fingers up to his pink lips, dark pupils trained on Hannibal’s face as Will sucked on his middle and index finger. He pulled them out clean, except for the faint ring of red that was like lipstick around the second knuckles. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed with lust and he grabbed the hilt of the knife in Will’s hand, at first the other man resisted letting go, but when he slowed down in his thrusts, emphasizing his sincerity, Will relented. Hannibal took the weapon slowly out of his lover’s hand, Will was doing all the work with his hips now, and the salt and pepper haired man turned the blade on himself, tip pressed firmly to his stomach. With a small smile and a slow blink, jittery from the heat engulfing his dick, he stuck the end in his abdomen, somewhere he knew wouldn't be vital if he had gone deep enough for that to even matter. It made him gasp and he was so close to the edge now, but he wasn't finished. Hannibal dropped the knife, grabbed Will's hand firmly, splayed out his fingers, then pushed one of them greedily inside the wound. It made him shudder, meeting the pace of Will’s hips now, feeling the tip of his finger inside the cut sent stripes of ecstasy straight to his dick. Pumping himself in and out of Will, while Will pushed his finger deeper into his skin, Hannibal stroked the man’s cock, admiring the slight bend in it and the feeling of precum slicking the inside of his hand. Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat and blood on the kitchen floor. He felt like an animal. He felt alive.

“This is what you wanted?” Will asked, words punctuated by small gasps.

Hannibal nodded, racing to the end, all fervor and fire. Slamming up into his Will. His Will. He would bleed only for this man. He would hold all of his beloved 's rage. He was made to bear any pain his lover put his way. Hannibal’s thoughts were becoming less linear. Will was panting, surely his legs burned, his dick twitching in Hannibal’s uncoordinated grasp, until finally he came. Seed shot onto Hannibal’s chest, mingling with his blood. The feeling made Hannibal climax too, unloading inside Will with a stifled moan. He couldn't take it. He sat up without thinking, grabbed Will behind the shoulders and sank his teeth into the crook of his neck. Will cried out, but didn't push him away. He bit deeper, Will’s hole milking his cock of every last drop of cum, his wounds throbbing and burning and flooding his body, his lover’s cum making a warm, slow trail down his stomach into the deep cuts. He might need stitches. Biting deeper. Will would be bruised. They'd have to set his nose. He did not break the brunette's delicate skin.

They sat like that on the floor, Hannibal’s teeth in his neck, Will’s trembling thighs straddling his waist. Hannibal pulled back, still ensnaring Will in his grasp and looked into his eyes. They seemed bright, normal, better than the storm he had cultivated for the last few weeks. He kissed his nose and brought him into a hug. Will sighed and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Their breathing slowed. Their heartbeats turned to normal, almost in sync. It would be enough. It already was.

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I am so incredibly upset because I couldn't find the gif of fantasy Hannibal smiling on the ground as Will beats him :'( EDIT: I FOUND IT YAHOO

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