#one day ill be good at armor

[serafphim]

[storyweaverofgondor]

I'm at that point in my life where sometimes 'The only fake thing in fairytales is that there is a hero. The evil is very real' and 'It is very hard to be goth right now. There is no beauty to be found is this darkness.' are thoughts i have.

Hoping i will eventually look back on this as my depressed phase.

[weclassygirl]

scheme

⋆˙⟡ sauron x fem!elf!reader (witch) ⟡˙⋆

summary: reader meets her shadow in the flesh as two riders enter Eregion

warnings: some blood (fake wound)

word count: 2,8k

author’s note: he's finally here! might take a moment before i update (i need to rewatch season 2 for him), but the next chapter.... ugh i can't wait to post it. enjoy! (previous part -> deception)

He doesn’t, for weeks he doesn’t reach out, does not even give you a sign he’s alive. You wish you could rip him to shreds once you see him again even if his very essence would slip through your fingers.

Celebrimbor notices you’ve become distracted, your work becomes sloppy, where once was attention to details and strive for perfection now lay curses under your breath when another piece of work is ruined. 

He comes to your side and places a hand on your shoulder. “Rest.” 

You turn to face him, the hammer still in your hand as well as the chisel. “I have to finish—“ he places your tools down, you don’t protest.

“You’ve been working yourself to the bone and your mind is not where it’s supposed to be.” you sigh, he’s right even he does not know the true reason. You take off your apron and put it on the stool before leaving the forge. 

You wander to the gardens and around Eregion trying to clear your head. You try to see past the trees, behind the horizon, maybe he’s out there. Wishful thinking. 

You’ve heard of the attacks on the Southlands, men fighting against orcs and the destruction it placed over the land. They call it under a different name now. Out of the corner of your eye you see horses, a rider clad in armor and a man. A messenger, probably. Eregion always had news to answer and these days it seemed more than ever. 

You come back to the forge after a while despite Celebrimbor’s refusal. You needed to occupy your mind, the blade you’ve been working on was nearly finished. You’ve been mixing metals to try and combine them into a nearly ethereal glow, mithril was far out of your reach. You’ve helped with the construction of the tower, not like the might of the Dwarves but your work has been appreciated. 

Elrond came before spring to help Celebrimbor and he secured it when Prince Durin sent his for forces to Eregion. The secrecy has been languid, you knew what Celebrimbor was hiding, he knew of mithril, knew that the very light of the Elves was fading, yours included. You felt it, more than the others, you considered Sauron’s offer to bound yourself to him completely but called yourself a fool for such thought. This is not the time you spoke of, you know it, see it as behind a mist, the future of Eregion and all Middle-Earth. Glimpses that always end with fire and blood.

A guard comes into the forge and calls out your name. Your head whips around as you look at him. 

“Your assistance is needed in the healer's quarters.” he informs you. 

“What of the Warden?” you ask, surely the master of healers would accommodate to the unexpected guests who arrived through the gate, should one of them be injured.

“Busy with other matters.”

You sigh but put away your tools once again. “Very well.” you say and follow the guard. 

You didn’t mind healing others but sometimes the injured or ill irritated you to the point your started to regret you were acknowledged as a healer in the first place. People came to you with the smallest cut or barely a cold, a proper herb and warm water would do most of the work.

When you arrive in the healer’s quarters your feet feel stuck to the ground at the sight of the person in front of you. 

“Galadriel?” you couldn’t believe it. “I thought you left for Valinor.” 

She’s clad in armor, her face dirty and sweaty from the journey. If she stayed in Middle-Earth you hoped she only heard the good things you’ve done while in Eregion, you do not wish to have her as an enemy.

“Fate decided I stay here.” she responds. She looks you up and down, the scars visible from your days under Morgoth, however no black fingertips. The darkness hasn’t consumed you or so she thinks. “I’ve heard of your progress here.” 

You feign flattery. “Yes, I owe it to Lord Celebrimbor.” 

“It’s impressive how much you swayed from darkness, not many can.” 

You chuckle slightly, oh if she only knew. 

“Yes, well, my punishment here proved to bear fruits.” you respond and you remind yourself why you’re here. You look her over. “Are you injured? I’ve been summoned as a healer rather than a smith.” 

“My friend is, if you could tend to him.” she starts walking down the hall and when you enter the room you see him, his face so familiar to his but you don’t want to make false assumptions. 

She tells him who he is and you turn to her with a question on your face. “King of the Southlands? How is it your path crossed with his?” you come closer to the man on the table and lift up the bloodied piece of clothing, he grunts as the dried blood tears away with the fabric. When you look to Galadriel her eyes tell you everything you need to know. Her task in Middle-Earth was not yet complete. 

You inspect the wound and Halbrand watches you carefully, you dare not to speak. Is it him? After all this time? Should you voice your thoughts? The questions plague your mind. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” she says as Elrond comes closer, you’ve conversed with him while he remained in Eregion and helped Celebrimbor in securing the work force to assemble the Great Forge. He’s been travelling constantly between Eregion and Khazad-dûm, the High King deceived him of his purpose here at first but the alliance between Dwarves and Elves grew. 

When they are out of your sight you look to Halbrand. An interesting name he has chosen, so many meanings, every single one fitting his image. Admirable, shadowed, exalted. You nearly laugh under your breath.

“Is my state that amusing to you?” he asks and the corner of your lips rises. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” you’re still unsure if you can speak freely in front of him, he may just be a face that he saw once, that felt suitable for him to wear when appearing in your visions. You tear the fabric that laid on his wound, you discard it and grab a cloth with warm water. “What has happened?”

“Enemy lance, six days ago.” he responds and grunts as the cloth makes contact with the wound. You wonder if he truly sustained the hit or it was another illusion. You were certain the red blood was.

“Is it truly like they say? Turned to dust and ashes?” you ask, curious as ever.

“The Southlands?” you nod. He watches as you tend to him, grabbing a bit of Elvish herbs, athelas and mixing them in a mortar. The paste thickens with each turn and you put it aside to grab other herbs needed. After a while, he gives you the answer. “Yes.”

You grab an herb and bring it up to his mouth. “Chew on it.” you tell him.

“What is it?” he eyes it warily before taking it. 

“It will replace the taste of iron from the blood in your mouth.” you don’t answer his question directly but he listens. As you smear the paste you mixed up he smiles under his nose, the sight doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Most people would be in pain and yet you react as if it’s a common cold.”

You’ve seen people wither in anguish from a single touch of Elvish medicine before it took its desired effect, it’s strange for a common man to not react to it. Perhaps he wants to show that he’s stronger than many. You go to the table to gather a clean dressing when you hear his response, so silent but makes you freeze in your steps. “Now I’m the first to give myself to you at my deathbed.” 

Was it him or your persistent shadow speaking? Could you distinguish the two now? The voice so familiar but not muffled like many times you’ve heard it, this was real, raw.

You turn to him but his sight is already set upon you. Any evidence of pain gone from his face as you step closer to the bed with a bandage in your hands. You search his face for any sign of falsehood and he awaits your reaction. You smack the piece of cloth you were holding onto him when he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer. You lock eyes but yours slip down to his lips, he notices and smirks. It feels as if he’s drawing down to him, if he did you could just…

“Violence goes against what you should stand for.” he taunts and lets you go. You glare at him, you told yourself you would rip him to shreds the next time you see him. 

“I should let you bleed out.” you retort, he looks down and gathers some of the red blood from the wound.

“So it’s a convincing illusion, I take it?” he smears it on his fingers and it turns pitch black. You huff in annoyance. 

“You’re insufferable.” you clean your hands in the basin, leftover herbs floating in the water as you dry your hands. You hear him shift on the bed.

“Are you not glad?” he begins to get up and stalk closer to you. 

When you turn he’s met with your brows raised and laugh on your lips. “Glad? I believed you to be dead.” you deadpan.

“Did you mourn?” he asks.

“Would you care?” you bite back.

It takes a moment before he responds, his voice soft. “Yes.” he stands right in front of you and takes your hand. The illusion you cast is perfect, leaving not a speck of dark that would have peeked from it. He inspects it, so much power that could come from them. “Don’t hide it.”

Your anger starts to disappear as he holds your hand. You never thought that you would see the day where he’s in the same room as you, in the flesh and not a black mass. “Defeats the point if I don’t.” you look up at him with question. “Why Eregion?”

“You’ve gained his trust, I intend to use it.”

“For what?”

He smiles. “Everlasting peace over all Middle Earth.”

You pull away from his touch. 

“Under your rule.”

His answer comes quickly with no hesitation as if his mind is already set upon it.

“And yours.” you’re confused. He bound you to him, not completely but alas, you did not expect that answer. He looks to the entrance, listening if anyone comes by before looking down at you. ”Our paths are already intertwined, tangled whether you wish to cut them. I do not intend to let your talents go to waste after I’m done.”

His words compel you, a malicious intent behind them and yet you fall for them like the stars from the sky. 

“A power over flesh?”

He nods. “I owe it to you, this idea, this scheme.” 

You don’t have the time to respond when you hear someone walking down the halls, as the master of the healers enters, you step away from Halbrand or rather Sauron to you. 

“Your Majesty, you should be resting.” he says as he sees him standing next to you, the blood on his fingers red.

“I needed to test my strength.” he lies swiftly and goes back to the bed. The Warden nods at you and tells you that he will take over. You bid Halbrand goodbye and glance at him one last time before leaving. 

Not a day passes when you hear him talking with Celebrimbor. The workshop was quiet in the morning and you needed to gather your notes. The High King ordered every Elf to be moved to Lindon, one last gathering before your time passes.

You did not expect for Sauron to take actions so quickly but it does not surprise you. 

“Might there not be some alloy to amplify the qualities of your ore?” he asks Celebrimbor as he hands him the piece of mithril.

“Well, that is… an intriguing suggestion.” you remark as you enter. You nod in greeting towards both of them and walk closer. Halbrand takes his eyes off of you. 

“Call it… a gift.” Celebrimbor inspect the mithril in his hand before you stride to your work bench. Notes scattered, splashes of ink spilled on the table. 

“You should be packing for Lindon.” he tells you and you gather whatever you can, some of the ink making it’s way onto your hand. 

“I needed to grab my notes, shame to let them go to waste.”

Would any Men take them after you have passed to the Undying Lands? Would they appreciate them?

“You’re leaving?” Halbrand asks you, surprise in his voice. 

You look between the two men. “High King’s orders, as much as I would like to stay. I have no choice but to obey.”

It pains you to say it, a witch following orders of a King, but the ruse must hold. Celebrimbor’s mind seems to be at work, Halbrand’s words resonating with him. It is then he remembers that you may not know who he is. 

“This is Lord Halbrand, King of—”

“The Southlands, yes we’ve met.” you interrupt. “Galadriel sent for a healer at hand and I was the only one available at the time.” you look to Halbrand. “You should be resting.”

“No use if I’m bedridden when your people need aid.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You wish to help?”

“If you allow me.” he directs these words to Celebrimbor and he smiles as he looks between you two.

“I believe we can work something out.” 

The three of you part your ways when he caughts up with you. The halls are empty, occasional guard posted but nothing more, the vines flow down the vast architecture surrounding you.

“I never realized you’ve made quite a name for yourself here.” he expressed as he started walking next to you. You nod occasionally at the guards as you pass through, some other smiths you work with. 

When out of their sight you speak. “It was demanded.” you stop in your tracks, both of you now standing on the parapet connecting two buildings. “Would you let an Elven Witch roam around your kingdom so freely? Her darkness poisoning the very air you’re breathing?” your voice low should anyone listen to your conversation. He studies you closely, eyes softening in his low-man form.

“You, yes. Another I might consider throwing over the walls.” he remembers why he joined you. He has an occasion to properly talk to you, no visions to hold him back now. He goes back to his first statement. “People talk.”

You look down at the few Elves roaming in the courtyard, Fëanor’s statue illuminated by the soft light of the morning. “And what have they said of me?”

He leans against the balustrade. “An Elf once cast out by her people, called Morgoth’s servant despite doing it to survive and when fled chained once again by her own kind. Fulfilled her punishment here in Eregion and started to move away from darkness within her, became a trusted Elven smith and a healer where her work only blossomed.” he looks down to the ring on your finger, worn out by time however you never corrected it, the broken stone still held. He says it like reading a passage from a book, you don’t turn to look at him. Your voice barely above a whisper.

“They trust you so easily.” you’re almost jealous and he knows. 

“They have not come to know me like they did you.” he reassures you. Once they do they will cower in fear.

You turn to face him, you sense the scheme within him. “You plan to use mithril. For what kind of weapon?”

“Not a weapon, it shouldn’t be too obvious. Something far more precious.” he looks down at you and smiles. “You’ll see, I believe it will be to your liking.”

“You think that Celebrimbor will let you into his workshop, a low-man?”

“Why wouldn’t he? I suppose I left a good impression.”

“Ah, of course.” you shake your head and smile under your nose.

The silence weighs between the two of you, some guards pass you by and the morning sky shines mercilessly. You start walking away from the parapet and into the streets, the small crowds surround you as you go by the merchant stalls, tall towers and small courts. 

“It’s refreshing. Seeing you here, feeling your presence, it’s… stronger.”

“Few hundred years had made their mark.” you respond and stop by a fountain, the water hums in your ears. 

“So did I.”

You look up at him and try not to roll your eyes. You admit he gave you tremendous help but the years you’ve spent in Eregion fell upon your shoulders. You knew you had to endure your stay a little longer, for his sake and yours. 

“Thank you.” you find yourself whispering. He knows you well enough to give you a small nod in exchange.

“Do not think that I will release you of the practice over your craft.”

You smile, this is what you needed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

next part -> bewitched

[bwat5-blog]

Quick Response To Some Fresh Lunacy

**Spoilers For Arcane**

So while I have only delved into the sheer bedlam that is the Arcane Critical tag once, every now and then one of those feisty little diesel drinkers makes it onto my feed and I am treated to something like this as reasons season 2 supposedly sucked (their phrasing was much more unpleasant):

1. The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it. 2. Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters. 3. Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn. 4. Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid. 5. Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured. 6. Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover. 7. Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character.

Okay... breathe deep... it hurts.. I know it hurts. It hurt me as well to read such a strong concentration of felonious stupidity all in one place as well. But we must never falter. There are a lot of ways I could respond to this. And perhaps at some point I will go more in-depth. But the simple fact is nothing here requires a long, drawn out, point-by-point defense. Because I have seen the show. Which clearly gives me the upper hand here. So, I am going to give each of these the amount of attention they deserve.

The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters

Okay. I am going to make this is as simple as possible so you can follow along with me:

As we know, Silco is not there. Jinx is essentially working this out in her own mind through these hallucinations

Her status as Silco's daughter, being a symbol, his influence and shadow, it is all tying her to the past which as we know is filled to the brim with delicious sugary trauma.

Even though he was a monster, she views him as a father figure. And as much as it sucks to say probably more than Vander. She was so young when Vander died. She was with Silco during her real formative years. And I would bet she has pushed Vander away mentally to protect herself after everything that has occured. So while Vi sees Vander in the barfight when she wants to give up, Jinx sees Silco.

Silco is giving Jinx the permission Jinx realizes she has to give Vi to save both of them.

Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn

Again. HUMANITY ENDING THREAT. Also ya know her fucking sister wanted her by her side.

OH NO! OUR MURDEROUS MENTALLY ILL TERRORIST IS HEALING AND TRYING TO TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER MISTAKES! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NOT CHARACTER GROWTH!

3. True. In that moment she felt she needed to die.. because as she says, she feels "there's no good version of me". I know it's unfair you have to watch the whole scene to get it. But you have taken a profound moment of Jinx's love for her sister and her recognition of how Vi loves her and made it.. whatever this was supposed to be.

Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid.

I have done this so... so many times. I am not doing it again. I will go with the same blanket statement I have been using lately: A non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon in targeted locations against dangerous drug lords and a terrorist who likes blowing shit up? Seems like a decent plan.

Well done. You have taken a beautiful moment of meaning between these two characters and simplified it down to the utmost degree. There are numerous thoughtful, in-depth and heartfelt breakdowns of this scene available and I promised myself I wasn't going to waste a bunch of my time responding to this mind-melting ignorance. So I will just say this. If that is all you see in that scene, I really am sorry for you. I hope someday things improve.

Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover.

Heimerdinger is very aware of his failings. You have to watch in season one. Again.. watching the show you talk about.. very hard I know. And as close as he and Ekko are in season two I think we can safely say they are on the same page. Never mind that Ekko has shown he has no trouble calling out anyone who needs it.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY

Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING

I'm sorry scary Viktor. I don't know why they keep forgetting you.

[fakeboy-breeder]

sir but like i’m a knight and you’re my squire. you want so desperately to be a knight, but you’re a girl. or at least your cunt says so, you’re blatantly convinced your a man in a woman’s body. so, you disguise yourself, chop your hair, and bind your chest down with fabric wraps. you’re able to pull off scrawny young boy well enough, despite being years older than any other squire, and you’re elated. you’ve found a way in. you’ll just keep your slowly growing tits and pretty pink cunt hidden until you’re the strongest knight in the realm so no one can stop you anymore.

but then you’re assigned to me. i’m known for being brutal and going through squires like mugs of ale, breaking boys quickly so they understand they’ll never be a true knight unless they work for it. i’m also known for fucking my way through every town we enter, leaving every girls pussy gaped, needy, and flooded with my cum. even the kings best mathematician couldn’t begin to predict how many bastards of mine are running around the country and i take pride in it. cunts are to be bred, are they not?

after a few weeks of backbreaking labor and constant jabs at your feminine face, your clear weakness, your insufficiency with a sword, i’d start to take a liking to you, though you’d never guess. my treatment stays exactly the same, but i privately think i’d like to keep you around for a while, as you’re pleasant company. one day, your chest wrap breaks. you’re in the middle of doffing my horses saddle and you feel a rip, the cloth falls, and your tits begin pressing at your tunic. you try desperately to angle yourself to hide them, but in the couple months you’ve been binding them down they’ve grown enough that it’s impossible. and i’ve seen.

in that moment i push you against the outer wall of the castle. my quickly hardening dick rubs against your plush ass while i force your face into the stone. i’d ask you how you possibly thought you’d become a knight with udders like those. i’d strip you if your ill-fitting squires’ clothes and inspect your pretty cunt. i’d almost start laughing. the pretty little squire i liked is truly a delusional whore.

i’d fuck you then and there. force my fat cock into your virgin cunt out in the open, where any knight, servant, squire, or nobleman could stumble across your defloration. i’d keep my armor on, let the metal bite into your ass and thighs. when i finished, i’d be to force it deep in your cunt, flood your womb so you can make me another bastard

if you were good and learned your lesson, maybe i’d convince my king to allow me to take you as a bride. if you didn’t, if you tried to tell me some nonsense about being a man, i’d ride you down to the nearest whorehouse myself and sell you for barely enough to fund my next night at the tavern

[howtofightwrite]

How good would a whip be as a weapon? I'm not interested in it being a lethal weapon but more of it being a weapon that can defend someone long enough to get away or at least disarm or disable someone. I don't see a lot of people or character or referrals on how to use it and that's probably because it's not good enough?

Not great. The whip, like the goad and cattle-prod, aren't really designed for use as weapons. They're designed to control animals. (...and, yes, that does sometimes include humans, but again, in a non-combat, control role.) Part of the problem with the whip is, it's not much use against someone wearing armor. Or, even, heavy clothing.

Now, whips do have a legitimate military history as discipline tools, but that's very different from trying to take them onto the battlefield.

The reason reason you'll still see characters using whips, when you've probably never even heard of a goad, is because the whip is visually dynamic. It looks cool. You don't see Indiana Jones using a whip because it's the best choice of weapon, you see him using one because it stands out, and as a result, it has become iconic. It's delivering a specific vibe.

At the same time, the goad is just a pointy stick.

Whip disarms are a neat trick. And, very doable in a controlled environment. However, successfully disarming someone who's actively trying to kill you is going to be a bit more challenging, and also raises the question, “If you're putting this much effort and attention into taking away someone's weapon, shouldn't you be spending that effort and attention taking their life instead?”

This is probably little thought experiment about combat disarms. There's no point in disarming a corpse. So, why not just skip the middle step and go straight to the corpse-making? A question that Indiana Jones famously answered when, instead of dueling a sword master, simply pulled out his .455 Smith & Wesson and dropped the guy. (The real reason was that Harrison Ford was ill from food poisoning, and in no condition to shoot a prolonged fight sequence. So instead we accidentally got a character defining moment of pragmatism.)

To be clear, if it seems that I'm a bit negative on the subject, I do think the whip is a neat weapon. It's visually dynamic. It's loaded with symbolism. I think it's fantastic in a fictional context. It's just not practical.

There are fantastical versions of the whip that are better options. William Gibson's use of monowire comes to mind as an immediate example. Where the whip itself is created from a monomolecular carbon fiber, and can, as a result, cut through basically anything it strikes. Similarly, I still have serious reservations about the Lightwhip from Star Wars' old Expanded Universe, but it would carve through anything pretty effectively (including the wielder.)

Even in those cases, the whip is a weapon you choose for the aesthetic, more than the practicality.

-Starke

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Arvin and kieran meeting a shy but sweet new girl with this team.

Tapu koko who through some magical shenanigans can't be more then a mile away from the girl with out falling incredibly ill.

A motherly salazle who has a charm that allows her to talk English

A blood moon ursaluna who's the girls main body guard and hes very protective

And a female iron valiant who acts like a big sister. Who threatens anyone that if they hurt the girl she'll cut them down

Gotta say I appreciate the addition of Blood Moon Ursa. Officially my fav gen 9 ground type <3

............

Arven

The moment he met you, he realized you were too nice for your own good sometimes...being the shy and sweet transfer student who winds up being his partner in many classes.

He might tease you from time to time, although he lightens up only after he realizes Mabosstiff likes you--which mean he has to like you as well and not accidentally be too rude.

During battle studies, you two have a match and he's shook when you suddenly bring out Tapu Koko.

Somehow you have a powerful Alolan Guardian deity wrapped around your finger...yet you never once bragged about it.

But Arven fully believes you have a Ditto or Zorua who just chooses to impersonate a Tapu, wondering when it's gonna drop the act.

Soon he finds out that nope, it's the real deal, and you have some strange connection that doesn't allow it to wander too far from you.

Otherwise, it falls violently ill and its magic abilities are weakened.

You're certain it was hexed by someone who wanted to punish it for its mischief, so you've been travelling around hoping to find a "cure".

And ofc that meant Koko had to abandon its duties at Melemele Island and become your Pokémon. It was reluctant at first, but quickly became a loyal friend to you.

Eventually Arven meets the rest of your team, including a female Iron Valiant that escaped from the crater and made herself your ally after saving you from trouble.

She's your literal knight in shining armor, acting like a big sister figure instead of an emotionless robot programmed to attack.

Oftentimes she comes out of the pokeball herself if she senses you're in any kind of danger.

Blood Moon Ursaluna is another bodyguard of yours....who is MASSIVE and utterly terrifying.

All you did was go to Kitakami on a school trip and you suddenly come back with an ancient Ursaring variant/evolution??

How tf are you picking up so many dangerous Pokémon?

Just when he thinks Salazzle is the only "normal" one on your team...

He finds out that she can actually talk, addressing him by name and asking what he was cooking one day.

For a split second he thinks her pheromones/toxins were making him hallucinate...until he sees you having a full blown conversation with her.

It turns out that she developed the ability to speak human language, using it to scare off a group of male Salandits who were threatening you.

At first, she only ever said random words she picked up from humans, but you taught her how to speak coherently and gave her some books...and now she's 100% fluent in English.

All in all, Arven finds your team very...diverse.

You don't really do many Pokémon battles, as they all act like your bodyguards/friends instead. But then again he's never been too battle-crazy either (unlike a certain girl he knows who'd give ANYTHING to battle Tapu Koko).

Kieran

Your personality kinda reminds him of his old self: shy and sweet, oftentimes hiding behind protective figures, etc.

Part of him kinda hated it, but he was good at hiding it.

Was instantly impressed by your Pokémon team, especially the robotic-looking Gardevoir/Gallade hybrid.

Although being a country boi he's bewildered about her LED eyes and her robotic trills, and is definitely not too thrilled about all Pokémon looking like her in some distant/potential future.

Tapu Koko leaves him bewildered, especially when you explained your connection to it while it roamed around the coastal biome, reminiscing about its home in Alola.

He's heard rumors of the Blood Moon Ursaluna back in Kitakami, not caring for it as much as Ogerpon, but he NEVER expected to see that someone like you could have tamed it.

During a battle, Incineroar's flames almost burned you, and your Ursaluna was enraged and knocked him out with one Headlong Rush. Completely unprompted.

Since then Kieran made a point to instruct the feline to be more precise with his fire attacks..lest he became weak.

You impressed the League Club with your talking Salazzle...but at first he believes you're just being irritating and distracting..

Until she talks to him directly, and he's like "...oh wowzers..so you can understand me????"

That's the most shocked anyone in the club has ever seen their leader...

Being motherly as she is, your Salazzle often asks how he's feeling and how Hydrapple is....and he usually shuts down and tells her to mind her business.

But after Area Zero's events, when she asked him again he broke down crying and the poison/fire lizard lowkey panicked.

She had to get you to calm him down.

Since then you two have become close friends, and while in the beginning he was envious of your unique team (that also reminded him of somebody else), he realizes you thought his Hydrapple and battle setups were unique, too.

It honestly made his day.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Dragon!Steve and mercenary!Eddie.

Steve Harrington was a dragon.

Once upon a time, he would kidnap a princess, imprison her in his tower, guard the said tower, and await his doom delivered by a knight in shining armor.

But this wasn't that kind of fairy tale. No, in this story, Steve and the princess were friends. Her lover was a fae who was his platonic soulmate, and the knight in shining armor was his brother in arms.

Still, no one, even Steve himself, foreseen it when a handsome mercenary arrived at his tower and stole his heart.

Steve never felt so adored in his long and boring life, but Edwyn "Eddie" Munson managed to do the impossible.

The man was good with his words, even better with his fingers when he scratched the itchy spots beneath Steve's scales and drew runes of protection and love on Steve's human body.

Eddie was also an attentive lover who brought Steve sparkly gifts every time he visited the tower.

In turn, Steve let the mercenary ride on his back in their adventures, let the man guide him to wherever he was pleased, and let himself be consumed in the amorous looks Eddie would give him when the man thought he didn't notice.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had been suspicious at first about Eddie's true motive. They worried that the mercenary would betray Steve because, despite his peaceful nature, Steve was the most powerful of his kind. And frankly, many had hunted him throughout his life given that even a piece of his scales cost a fortune in black markets.

Their concern was warranted, Steve supposed, but he trusted Eddie to not do him harm. Yet, sometimes, when Steve couldn't sleep at night, he would think about the worst and decide that if Eddie asked, he would give the man everything.

After all, Eddie already had his heart.

In the end, Eddie only asked of him a vial of his blood to cure Wayne's illness.

The day the truth came out was when Eddie approached him and stated that his uncle couldn't wait any longer.

Steve could see the desperation and hope in those chocolate eyes that he so loved, and knew for certain that Eddie wouldn't fight him but would be on his knees and beg until he agreed to help.

Before things could go any worse, Steve decided to take the matter into his own hands. Literally.

"So you had approached me because of my blood," Steve smiled wryly at the sting of the betrayal as he let Eddie dress the gash on his forearm. They both knew the cut would heal in a few minutes, but Steve didn't turn down Eddie's help. Couldn't.

"You should know that I didn't only have your blood in mind," Eddie fastened the bandage's knot securely.

"What? Are you asking for my organs next?" Steve huffed out a bitter laugh. "I heard they're quite useful ingredients for rituals and potions."

"No," Eddie met his eyes calmly and guided Steve's hand to rest on his chest. "Please listen to the song of my heart and do know that it is never a lie when I say this: I've been wanting all of you for myself since I first laid eyes on you."

Steve blinked rapidly in bewilderment and awe. Every dragon had an innate talent, and Steve's was the ability to see only the truth.

Thus, when Eddie opened himself up so freely like that, Steve could also see the man's deepest desire. And what he saw made him blush terribly. This man was truly hopeless.

"You never do anything in half, do you?" Steve snorted.

"Once Uncle Wayne gets better, I will return to the tower and never leave your side again," Eddie held his hand tightly as if fearing he would take it back and peppered feathery kisses on his knuckles.

Those words sung true to Steve's heart. Yet, he also sensed the wordless yearning from his lover. There was only one way, wasn't it?

"I'll go with you, then. I think it's time for you to introduce me to your family."

"Are you sure?"

Looking at Eddie's hopeful eyes, Steve leaned in to kiss the love of his life soundly.

"As sure as gold."

They both chuckled fondly at the memory together. After all, the first thing Eddie had given him upon their meeting was a sparkling bar of gold.

[edgeray]

Hi there!

I just finish to read the rules for Arlecchino request, and I saw no specific illness/disease, so I will try to make my situation for everyone:

I have horrible knee pain to the point I'm close to faint because of it sometimes.

But to put it more accessible to everyone what about that:

Reader hurt themself during a mission but it was an intern injury, they hide it but Arlecchino noticed how they start walking weird and many other sign.. until Reader faint from the pain? How will Arlecchino react and what would she do?

Sorry if it disobey the rules and for any grammar mistake since English is not my first language ^^ (and I'm writing this while it's 12 am where I'm from ;/ )

Thank you if you are making this request, if not I still thank you for reading it until the end :)

I Am Fine in Your Arms

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi, there anon! If you choose to request anon again, give yourself a name/emoji 🫶! I really appreciate you pertaining to my rules; not only do I want to make my x Reader's accessible to as many people, but I also don't want to misrepresent anyone or their experiences with that illness/condition especially since I myself most likely won't have them, so thanks for the consideration. I'm assuming by ‘intern injury’ you mean ‘internal injury,’ so that's what I'm writing based off. You're not breaking any of my rules but your concern is appreciated! Don't worry about it though. Your English is good, especially since it's not your first language :). Little bit rushed because I am tired and ti's 12AM. Thank you for your request! Content warnings / info - reader goes by ‘mother’ but gn! reader, semi-graphic details about injury, this weirdly had actual plot for some reason, 1.5k words

Although the vast majority of your duties was primarily serving the House of the Hearth and the Fourth Harbinger, as a member of the Fatui, it was mandatory for the Fatui to ensure you still held loyalties to the Tsaritsa. Typically, proof of your fidelity was through completing the occasional reconnaissance mission assigned to you every couple of months though this time you were given a different type of operation: direct action, specifically, assassination. 

Assassination wasn't necessarily your forte, but it was doable. In a few weeks, you'd stop scrubbing your hands incessantly in hopes of washing away the stained blood, and you would stop receiving dreams painted in red. At least, with reconnaissance, blood and violence could be avoided. Why you were assigned this particular assassination mission when there were much more suitable candidates, you could only assume. You had an inkling it had to do with some of the other Harbingers’ grudges and suspicions of your husband, and perhaps the chink in the Knave's impenetrable armor  would be you. Failure in this mission could quickly spiral into considerable consequences for you and Arlecchino, regardless if the designation was influenced by more untrustworthy Harbingers, so you couldn't afford to fail this anyways–not with how high profile this target was. 

You return to the House of the Hearth, splatters of blood still visible on your appearance despite your best attempts of cleaning up. At your arrival, some of the children rush to greet you, only to pause as they take in your exhausated form. You give them a weak smile, bending down and extending your arms to accept their eager embraces.

“M-mother!” the children exclaim as they swarm around you, their curious and anxious minds surely brimming with many questions. You hadn't told any of the children where you've gone to for the past few days, believing that there was no need to stir up such worries when the mission was going expectedly. You were wrong, however; no mission like the one they had given you should have been done alone, and yet the only one you could depend on was yourself and your vision. It was undeniably a test for you, and you had only scraped by with your life and the mission's success. Now, all you wanted to do was collapse in bed and hibernate for several weeks, your head filled with a dense fog and senses dulling.  

“Mother, there's blood on–” Barely able to hear the statement, you shake your head, dismissing the little girl's distress. “Don't worry, dear… it's not mine.”

With some effort, you pull away from the children and you hobble your way towards the living commons, your bruised ribs impelling pained grunts from you. 

“Someone…” you pant, placing your hand over your forehead. Leaning against the nearest wall, you shut your eyes, breathing in deeply as an attempt to relieve the ache. “Someone go get your Father.” 

Multiple feet scurry away after your command, but the remaining children around you overwhelm you with their burning questions of what they can do to help, what did you need, whether or not you needed medicine, and much more that you couldn't bother processing.  Gently, you push past them, making your way to you and Arlecchino's shared bedroom. 

“I'm sorry, children, I just need to lay down in private for a little bit, okay? Then I promise that I will be up soon, and we can make cookies. How does that sound?” You say to them in an effort to quell their anxiety and it works for the younger children. The older ones, however, you can tell they still carry some distress but they nod along for your sake.

Such good children. 

You enter your bedroom and shut the door, immediately peeling away your clothes caked in blood, not even bothering to go into your adjacent bathroom. After chucking the articles in the direction of the laundry basket, you dig through the wardrobe for your much more prefered uniform, the one you wore as ‘Mother.’ By that time, the door clicks, and your husband enters.

Arlecchino wastes no time in appearing by your side, her blackened hands wrapped around your hips, and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. You hoped that you were able to hide your wince in time when she touched you. You know your husband far too well to know that, despite her stoic expression, she is just as worried for you, if not more, than your children. There's that small knit in her brows, and her lips are curled the slightest bit more. She had always been fiercely protective of you. 

“My love, there's blood–” she starts, but you cut her off with a chuckle. “I know, one of the children already pointed it out.”

Then, your tone hardens. There's no need to wait to let her know. “I need to tell you something.”

“You should rest.”

You shake your head. “This comes first, Arlecchino.” 

“You just came back.” 

“Peruere,” you enunciate, quickly silencing the Knave. “I am fine,” you assure her with a stern tone but fond eyes. You let out a defeated huff, resorting to wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against her shoulder to ease her and to conceal your pained expression as your body protested the movement. 

Remaining in that position, you brief her on your mission and every single detail to it. From the process of researching and finding the opportune time to, to the actual execution of the assassinatin, which proved to be much more complicated and difficult than you were able to account for. This was due to the lack of information given to you once you were assigned. With the absence of partners and the omittance of crucial details, it is, undoubtedly, an attempt to sabotage you and cause you to fail. The two of you discussed what to do, going forward in cases like this, as well as potential suspects, their motives, and wouldbe gains. With each growing minute, Arlecchino held you tighter and you leaned in closer. 

After the conversation finished, your husband quietly held you, without uttering another sound, for around half-an-hour, the two of you indulging in one another's company. You pull away with a kiss to her forehead.

“I promised the kids I would make cookies with them. Would you like some?” 

Arlecchino knows better than to say no. She gives you a curt nod. You hum with acknowledgement to her answer, standing up from sitting on the bed. Almost instantaneously, the moment you stabilize yourself on your feet, your vision grows black and an abrupt throbbing comes to your head. You stumble forward, but catch yourself. 

“Love–”

“I'm fine. Just stood up too fast,” you gruff, staggering your way towards the door but the limp is far too obvious. You only make it a few steps before you stumble over again, nearly hitting the floor if it weren't for Arlecchino’s quick reflexes. Stabbing pain surrounds you, and paired with your fatigued state, you no longer have the energy to ignore the agony. She cradles you in her arms and you glance up at her. Your sight swims, and her appearance keeps distorting before you. Clinging onto consciousness seems to be a losing battle. 

“The cookies…”

“Forget about the cookies. You said you were fine,” Arlecchino scolded through gritted teeth, with some frustration and anger in her voice. Placing her arm underneath your back and underneath your legs, she carries you bridal-style, already rushing towards the medical bay. 

“Stay awake for me. Stay awake,” it is a harsh demand, but you know it is nothing more than a desperate plea. Your eyelids droop and you close your eyes.

Arlecchino lets out an expletive under her breath, quickening her pace as she barges into the room. The specialized doctor for the House of the Hearth is startled, but the Harbinger's intense glower tells the doctor all she needs to know. 

“Find out what is wrong with her, and fix it. Now,” the Harbinger orders, and the doctor goes into work immediately once your body is placed on the bed. 

The Knave soundlessly watches the doctor's each and every action, refusing to budge by your side. Although she knows that medical treatment is not her expertise, Arlecchino cannot help but critique her doctor in her thoughts. Not fast enough, not effective enough, not enough for her darling who could be experiencing unbearable pain now.

The doctor works until she assures the Harbinger that everything that could be done is, and that you will wake in the following morning. Arlecchino wordlessly thanks the doctor but her hand that clasps yours doesn't move for even one movement. Eventually, night falls. Climbing into the small bed, she tenderly wraps her arms around you, unable to be pulled apart from you until she knows your safety is guaranteed. Underneath her skin, seething rage boils for the coworkers who try to deprive her of her authority and power, but most of all, for causing you in this state.

The next morning, Arlecchino's eyes flutter open when she feels the warm body next to her stir. She awakens to your soft smile.

“I said I was fine, didn't I?” You greet her with a twinkle in your eyes. 

Arlecchino's heart swells.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Love of My Life | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician x Batsis

Synopsis: Bruce and Vivian enjoy the moments they have with their daughter.

The cries of her daughter woke Vivian from her deep slumber.

“I'm coming,” Vivian yawned as she got out of bed to go to the crib that was in the room. “Mama's coming… and you can't do this while it's your father's night, huh?” She teased.

“Go back to sleep, I got her,” Bruce's rough voice woke her fully. Standing by the crib was Batman, still wearing his cowl and armor, but he removed his cowl and cape, and threw his utility belt and gauntlets and gloves to the floor before he reached into the crib to get his daughter.  He had come from the window, Vivian guessed, considering the one that was just a couple of feet from the crib was open.

Vivian sat back in their bed and watched as her husband cradled their daughter, hoping it would ease her cries so he could holder longer but the infant was hungry and he would have to give the girl to her.

Eventually Bruce sighed and walked to their bed and handed Valerie carefully into her arms and Vivian unbuttoned her shirt so she could breast-feed. Silence filled the room, but one that was comforting.

“Welcome home,” Vivian greeted him.

Bruce smiled and leaned closer to kiss her but just briefly so he would crush the suckling baby. “I wanted to come back early before she wakes up.”

Leave it to Batman to know the schedule when their daughter usually wakes and asks for milk. 

“Come to bed,” Vivian said to him.

“I will, let me change first,” he said but then Valerie let out a sound as if in protest of him leaving. “Or not,” he chuckled. “She grows so fast everyday.”

“I know,” Vivian brushed their daughter's hair, “It won't be long before she's walking around causing trouble… how was patrol?”

“Quiet,” said Batman. “Nothing that connects to our cases, it looks like they all went silent to get us out of their trail… I visited Grundy, left him some food.”

“Solomon Grundy,” Vivian smiled then began the rhyme, “Born on a Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Took ill on Thursday, Worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday. This is the end. Of Solomon Grundy.”

“A little dark for her age, don't you think?” Bruce raised a brow.

“Please, Damian's been reading to her Grimm Brothers’ stories.”

“I'll talk to him about that.”

“It's either that or Dickens.”

Bruce hummed.

“Jason's been reading to her Anne of Green Gables, she likes it when Jason reads to us in the living room.”

“He's been here for a while now,” Bruce noticed.

“He wants to spend time with his sister,” Vivian said to him. “How about this poem?

“Monday's child is fair of face/ Tuesday's child is full of grace/Wednesday's child is full of woe/ Thursday's child has far to go/Friday's child is loving and giving/ Saturday's child works hard for his living/And the child that is born on the Sabbath day/Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.”

Bruce chuckled. “lighter than Solomon Grundy's.”

Valerie was finally full and Bruce took her to burp. After a couple of minutes she finally let out that cute burp without barfing all over him. A miracle! The girl then made noises which the couple thought was her way to talking to them, rather, to him as if telling him about her day.

“Alright, it looks like she's wide awake,” Vivian took their baby from his arms. “Go clean up so we can snuggle in bed.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Bruce placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead and then on Vivian's lips before heading out, making Valerie whimper and reaching out to him. “I'll be back.”

Valerie sniffled and kept reaching out to him. Seeing her daughter wanted her father's company, Vivian said, “Go take a shower, I'll entertain her while we wait.”

“I'll make it quick.”

“You better,” Vivian had their daughter lay on her lap and then with her free hand, she conjured her magic to create soft balls of light that turned to birds. Valerie always liked it when her mother used her magic, or whenever she makes those pretty, gold lights. “You like watching the robins, huh?”

Valerie made a sound of delight. 

“Your brothers love you too, my darling girl,” Vivian sighed, then she started to hum the song her mother would sing to her as a child. It was an old poem she thought her mother found in a book and turned to a song but after learning that her mother was actually an immortal witch from 17th century Gotham, she realized it might be a song that was taught to her at that time. The entire time, Valerie smiled and made cooing noises as her mother sang to her and made those gold lights transform to different things, when the light touched her cheek the girl giggled loudly that it was too cute for Vivian not to kiss her daughter's cheeks.

“Love of my life, you've hurt me,” Vivian singing the song by Queen, remembering the times her mother would have them share a walkman and connect their headphones to listen to it. ‘“Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back…

Valerie took hold of her red hair and playfully tugged on it, Vivian let it be and said to her child, “You and your brothers and sisters are my word,” Vivian whispered to her daughter. “I love you so much, my darling girl.”

Bruce finally came to bed and Vivian handed their daughter to him, as they expected the girl squealed in delight and was patting on her father's face in excitement to be in his arms. As Bruce played with his infant daughter, Vivian saw the look on his face that she has seen before whenever Batman would try to cheer up children who are frightened, but this was different. It was more than that, one that cannot be explained with words. Happy isn't enough to describe it nor was love. It was unconditional.

Reaching out, Vivian wiped the tear that fell down Bruce's cheek as he played with Valerie in his arms. 

Turning to her, Bruce leaned into her touch and made a request, “Kiss me. Please, just kiss me.”

Vivian scooted closer and cupped her husband's cheek and kissed him one that was full of love and passion.

“I love you,” Bruce whispered.

“I love you,” Vivian whispered back. 

“Say it backwards — just to lock it in,” he smiled.

“I evol uoy,” Vivian gave into his request. 

The sound of Valerie making a noise to call their attention had Bruce and Vivian turn to the girl and saw her pouting. Laughing, Vivian and Bruce leaned closer to her and placed a kiss on both her cheeks. 

“We love you too,” Vivian said to their daughter.

“If only there's a way to make time stop or slow down,” Bruce thought out loud. “So I can hold you like this for a long time.”

“If only,” Vivian agreed. 

They stayed up for what felt like hours with Valerie playing with them. At one point Vivian joked how their daughter inherited their sleeping habits and was a nocturnal creature as well. Bruce mentioned that his mother teasingly blamed his father for that habit of his when he was a child. Maybe it was a trait of the Waynes. To be creatures of the night. 

Vivian could only imagine how hard it would be to wake up for school in a couple of years.

“Can she sleep here, beside us?”

“Of course,” Vivian waved her hand and had Valerie’s pillow and blanket shoot from the crib and to her hand. She scooted back to her side and placed the girl’s favorite pillow in its place and lets Bruce place the infant between them. She was sleepy but Valerie was doing everything she could to stay up, even if it meant babbling about things her parents played along that they understood while trying to keep her eyes open. Eventually, sleep won and Valerie was snoring peacefully.

“You should sleep too,” said Bruce.

“I will. I'm sure she'll wake me up later,” Vivian laid down in bed but instead of lying on her pillow she went down to the same level as her daughter. 

Bruce wrapped an arm around his wife and his daughter. “Dick said he could babysit so we could have a date night. It's been a while since we had one.”

Vivian chuckled. “I wouldn't mind, but…”

“I agree,” Bruce shrugged. “We can have more date nights in the future. For now, let's enjoy this time with her. While she's still this young.”

“Looks like your brothers have something up their sleeve, huh?”

“Looks like she's having a good dream,” Bruce brushed his finger on the girl's cheek. “I wonder what it is.”

“I hope we find each other in the Dreaming,” Vivian whispered and finally fell asleep.

Bruce should also head to bed but how could he close his eyes when he has the most beautiful sight there was. His wife and daughter in his arms, sleeping peacefully because they know they're safe. If sleep ever came to him, Bruce wasn't sure because in his dreams he was with them as well.

[hawkinshorror94]

Burning Desire

A/N: I hope you guys like it. Im sad about the election, but I wanted to get this out. Let me know what you think, might do Rolan next or maybe even Karlach. Sorry if the spacing looks weird, tumblr will no longer pull up on my mac so, weird but I had to post it from my phone.

He wakes as he often does after her, rolling over inhaling her scent on the pillow. Pomegranate and vanilla; her smell. He knew it, he had committed it to memory, like a birthday. But today is different; the smell is heady, more fragrant, like over ripened fruit. And it makes his cock hard in his trousers. He was in Heat.

Teiflings on the older side didn't go into heat every month, “pass their prime” perhaps. But this one was strong, he needed her. Like he needed air, but he had duties and so did she, so he would have to wait. Sate his hunger the best he could until he could take her properly.

“Good morning,” she greets him when she hears the clank of his boots coming downstairs. Zevlor drank the sight of her in. Had she always been this beautiful, her skin looked dewy, and her hair shiny. She is the picture of perfection standing in the early morning light filtering in through the kitchen window. And he feels that need thrum low in his belly again.

“It is a good morning indeed.” He rasps into her ear, nipping at the soft skin there, his hands digging into her hips spreading her thighs slightly as he drops to his knees. His clawed fingers gather her nightgown at the hem pooling it around her waist.

“What are you doing?” She murmurs as he presses his nose flat against her clothed cunt breathing in deeply. The smell, Oh Gods, that smell. It burrows into his brain like a mind flayers tadpole and eats away at all the rational parts of his brain and leaves the more salacious bits. The image of her pressed against their shared bed as absolutely splits her open crosses his mind. As he takes in another deep breath letting his breath fan out over the fabric, he can now smell the all too familiar smell of arousal pooling between her legs.

“I have half the mind to bend you over this counter right now and fill you absolutely full with my seed.” He murmurs as he drags his nose away from her center, looking up at her to see her cheeks dusted with a rosy tint. “But you and I both have duties to the city.” He stands back to full height, cock painfully straining against the chainmail of his trousers. He rubs against forehead, the bump of his horns rubbing against the smooth skin of her forehead, an almost keening whine leaving his lips when she finally closes the distance between them. It would be an exceptionally long day.

This was torture, like slowly burning alive in her own skin. Except it’s just her in his line of vision constantly. Had her armor always hugged her body like that, the leathers lifted her ass to make a nice heart shape and he found it awfully hard to ignore it when she was bent over the table beside Wyll looking at a map. Was she doing this on purpose, he thought as he dug his claws into thigh?

“Commander, opinions?” She was talking to him, those lips that looked so nice around his cock were talking to him. And calling him by his title instead of by his name or addressing her as husband. His cock twitched under his desk.

“Zevlor, are you alright? You look ill.” Wyll asked, concerned as the older man tried to keep it together. Zevlor nodded curtly, apologizing to the Duke as he tried to refocus. He needed her, this couldn't wait. He wouldn't make it through the day if he didn’t have her.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” He growls biting at the skin of her shoulder as he bends her over his desk. Yanking her armor down and then the leathers, just enough to see that pretty weeping cunt. He drags the sensitive tip between her puffy folds as she whines. “With the way you're whining, you’d think you're a bitch in heat, my beloved.” He huffs, finally pressing into her velvety walls. When he’s buried to the hilt in her, he sets a brutal pace. His mind is consumed with her, the way she feels around his cock, her moans and gasps. The sounds of their coupling loud and lewd in his quiet office.

“Zevlor.” She cries out as he lifts one of her legs placing it on the desk. This angle is deeper and it has her biting her hand in an effort to be quiet. His mind is feral with the thought of filling her full, breeding her. His mind thinks of her cunt dripping and leaking over her undergarments as she goes about the rest of the day. The thought drives him into her one last time and as he feels her clenching around him, he finishes painting her inner walls with hot seed.

“Better,” She asks as he helps her down from the table, smoothing her hair and righting her armor. He chuckles pressing a kiss to her fevered forehead,

“Much my beloved.” Until tonight of course, he thinks as he watches her leave from his office.

[deny-the-issue]

Love Thy Nature

Summary: Set in the "Baldur's Gate 3" epic tale, you struggle with ongoing body image issues while pining after Halsin, hoping to earn a special place in his heart.

Thank you so much to my lovely beta readers @juniper-sunny and @sirenofzaun <3

AO3 link

link to divider

Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of interest in this fic! I hope you all enjoy <3

[MDNI] [Halsin x fat!Reader] [no mention of gender pronouns] [reader has vulva/breasts] [body image issues] [whatever height you are, Halsin is taller] [whatever weight you are, Halsin can lift you] [smut] [fluff] [angst] [happy ending] [oral sex] [vaginal sex] [teasing] [5580 words]

Chaos. Those first few hours were absolute chaos. In Baldur’s Gate shopping for vegetables one moment, infested with a slimy tadpole the next. At least you aren’t alone. 

Even if they intimidate you. 

You all have a common goal, and you wear this safety like a blanket. With companions like these, maybe you’ll have a chance to live. If you don’t get caught in between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, that is. 

Stomach rumbling, feet aching, thighs raw, the nights end with you silently crying yourself to sleep. You are distinctly unsuited for this life. The others say nothing, but you feel like you’re letting them down when you lag behind them during the day’s journey. You simply cannot keep up with Karlach and Lae’zel’s pace, and with the dismal amount of food for dinner, you’re starving. 

You’re not the only hungry one, but you are the only one that eats away from the fire, in solitude. Even in the city you preferred to eat alone. Judging eyes haunt your every bite, but you know the shame comes from within. You know you have no right to complain about being hungry when you have the most weight to lose.  

So you suffer in silence. 

Your armor consists of ill-fitting cloth and leather which you have to repair frequently. The cloth is thin and your thighs can rub it away to nothing within a single, travel-heavy day. The others have found armor that suits them quite well, and you’re happy for them. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t envious of the ease at which they can find things that fit. 

It’s hard not to dwell on your size. How it would be easier to find armor if you were skinnier. How much easier it would be to keep up. How much more confident you would be. 

You see your travel companions flirt and cast lewd looks at each other. It lightens the heart to see, yet stirs a deep yearning within that has been your constant bane over the years. To love is something you have known many times, but to be loved is another story entirely. Truly loved for everything you are, inside and out. It seems impossible to behold when you cannot fathom loving yourself in that way. 

Maybe one of them would have given you a chance, if only you had the confidence to try. 

As the days go on, you learn more about each other, some willingly and others forced. Just when you think no one else is hiding something, another secret arises. Every single one of them has enough problems without the threat of becoming illithid, and you start to see the people underneath the mask of intimidation you assigned to them. 

Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, they start to grow on you. Their troubles become yours, and a warm feeling of belonging takes root in your chest. 

The grove is a delightful little community. Their harmony with nature is beautiful, your curious eyes take in every part and crevice. 

Maybe too curious, since you had a near scrape with the guards due to the little shit, Mol. She’s too smart for her own good–trouble will surely follow her wherever she goes.

Just as it does you.

Just as it does him, too, apparently. Breaking a bear out of a dungeon is a first for you, but watching that bear transform into the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen becomes a keystone memory. 

Already you are filled with conflicted feelings, more thankful everyday this horrible thing happened to you because it brought you to them. All of them brilliant, all of them flawed, and all incredibly beautiful. 

You cling to the hope of his companionship as you prepare to protect the grove. Halsin’s knowledge instills fear in your bones, more defined than it was before. Now you have an idea of what you’re up against, and it’s all much bigger than you can fathom. Getting to know him personally casts away the worrisome thoughts; his words a honey-sweet distraction to the storm clouds gathering overhead. 

You leave his company with a smile straining your face, but it doesn’t take long for the bite of loneliness to nip at your heels. Halsin’s answer about lovers echoes through your mind, a deep spiral into well-trodden waters. 

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid. Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve.”

How foolish of you to think he might warm to you. You’re sure his fortunes will improve, only with someone else. Someone more deserving of him. 

These depressing thoughts do not stop you from befriending him. Quite the opposite, in fact. By casting aside your hopes for romantic love, you feel as though you can finally start to be yourself in camp.

And you’re surprised to find they like you. Your spirit and sense of humor return to you in troves–making some poor sod kneel for Lae’zel has everyone laughing at camp that night.

Yet you still make off alone with your bowl of stew when dinner is served, until a large obstacle blocks your path. 

“I do not pretend to know why you dine alone, but you are most welcome to join us.” Halsin smiles kindly.

“I know, it’s ok. Thank you, though,” you try to dismiss him, but he doubles down. 

“Do you not find our company agreeable?”

“No! I mean, yes? You’re lovely–you’re all lovely,”you stammer, heat rising to your face. 

“Good, then you’ll have no problem joining us,” Halsin’s eyes sparkle with amusement, no doubt from watching your mind implode. 

The prospect shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is, yet you cannot help but feel extremely uncomfortable. 

You beat down the slight panic and return Halsin’s smile, unwilling to argue your case further. What would you even say? Laying your insecurities bare to a man you just met is not on your agenda for the night. 

His large hand touches your shoulder as he makes his way to the fire, confident you’ll join him. So warm and rough with callouses–the contact lasted but a moment but you can feel it still, like an invisible badge of affection. 

“Come on, Soldier, grab a stump! I already picked the slugs off for you.” Karlach laughs at your grimace. 

“Thanks,” you walk over to the offered seat. “I’ve had enough slimy things for a lifetime.”

A chorus of agreement and various stages of grief crosses the face of each companion as you join them around the fire, a part of the pack for once. As much as you begrudge Halsin for pulling you out of your comfort zone, you never spend another night eating alone, and your heart is all the fuller for it. 

The battle for the grove was hard won, and the celebration that followed was a well-needed respite for everyone. Surrounded by friends, plenty of food, and drink, you felt more alive than you had since it all began. Whatever shame you were harboring faded away with the alcohol settling into your rosy cheeks, and you sought out the man you’ve been pining for. 

Weeks of hard living have left you as lightweight as Halsin claims to be, but the confidence to mingle in his company is a welcome boon. Oh, to see him tipsy–better still if you are the first person he sees. Is he handsy in his affections, or reserved, you wonder? 

But what does he mean by calling you resourceful? 

You’ll have to ponder its meaning after some sobering sleep. Nothing could sway your mood tonight. He may have turned you down, but he was surely flirting with you. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you know he is not the kind to lead anyone on. 

Enjoyable. A night with you would be enjoyable; the thought has you grinning for the rest of the celebration, and biting your lip later, when you’re alone in your tent with roaming, lusty hands.

You’re able to find suitable food, but with life’s ever-increasing hardships, it continues to take a toll on your body. Hiking is not as hard as it once was, though, and you are thankful for it. With a body such as yours, it would take a considerable amount of time before you’d be deemed ‘thin’, but the loss of weight is undeniable. 

Your clothes are loose, for one, and the little armor you have shifts uncomfortably, always needing adjusting. The others have started noticing as well. 

Karlach gave you a, “Lookin’ good, soldier!” the other night and you never wished to cast an invisibility spell so much as in that moment.

This slightly-slimmer body should make you happy, but the success is tainted in your mind. It’s not as if you chose to lose weight, to starve, to walk endlessly every damned day. What happens when– if-- you can live a normal life after this? The same mistakes will surely be made as before, and you’ll go right back to the size you so hate. No lesson has been learned here, not in regards to food. 

Even if you do somehow lose all this weight, you still will not be pleased with yourself. Stretch marks and loose skin, you could never look the way you want to. 

The frustration grinds your spirit down, but no one notices. Hells, you hardly notice. The Shadowlands dampen the mood of everyone, infecting the camp even without touching it. 

Fighting has never been easy for you, and you’ve managed to hold your ground so far. But every person’s luck runs out sometime, you suppose. One awkward move and you get a knife in your side. The armor should have protected you–would have–if only it fit you better. 

Halsin gathers you in his arms, carrying you despite your weight. A mad rush back to the Last Light inn saves your life. As you’re placed in a healing sleep, you hear echoes of Halsin’s soothing voice. You can never make out the words, but they calm your turbulent mind, keeping the nightmares at bay. 

When you wake, you are mostly healed. The skin is healed, though a scar remains, and the pain is manageable while lying still in bed. Halsin greets you with warmth and a small amount of haste.

It seems, while you slept, Halsin talked to both a tailor and a leather-worker on your behalf. What is more surprising is the light scolding you receive.

“You should have spoken up, we cannot afford such a loss in these dire times.”

“And we can afford this?” You doubt, knowing how much new, custom armor costs. 

One stern look from Halsin, and you concede.

Everyone pooled their gold together to buy you fitted clothing and armor, a gesture that means the world to you. What have you done to deserve such kind friends? Just as you took on their troubles, they’re taking on yours without a second thought. 

There is one part of their gesture that gives you pause. They need your measurements, and you need to stand for it. With abdomen muscles still healing, you require Halsin’s help to get out of bed, leaning heavily against him. 

So close to him, you breathe in his scent, take in his warmth, and relish the contact. It’s almost enough to distract you from the embarrassment of having a stranger shimmy a measuring tape around your body. You hide your discomfort as best you can, but Halsin notices.

He always does. 

He must have read it as pain, because he hastens the person along so you can lay down and rest again. Another unsaid deed that shows his care for you, soothing the stinging humiliation. 

“Let me call the healers over, I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”

You grab his hand, stilling his movements. “Wait, please.”

“What troubles you, friend?”

You shake your head. “Thank you. For carrying me back and for the clothing. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.” 

Halsin takes your hand in his gently, “This fight would not be the same without you by my side.”

You blink away a rogue tear as Halsin brings forth a healer, and drift into a deep, healing sleep with a smile on your face. 

When you wake, you’re fully restored, and your new armor and clothes are atop the bedside table. The sight should fill you with excitement, but all you feel is dread.

What if they don’t fit you? What if they’re too small?

Retreating to a corner with a privacy curtain, you hesitantly try them on, thankful that your party isn’t here. To your surprise and great relief, they all fit–as they say–like a glove. The leather armor comes with a learning curve with all the straps and strings, but after a few mistakes, you figure it out.

It’s genius, really. With overlapping leather and lacing on the side, up the arms, and down your legs, its size is fully adjustable. Up to a point, of course, but extremely useful for the days to come. You’ll probably lose more weight as the journey is far from over, and now you have armor that can account for size changes in either direction!

You choke back tears of happiness, never once having known the feel of well-fitting clothes until now. Everything has been uncomfortable in some way or another, always with minor inconveniences, and never once did they look good. 

In these clothes, it doesn’t matter how you look. You feel good in them, and for once in your life, that is all that matters. A burden has been lifted from your shoulders whose weight you never noticed before now. 

Could you truly be comfortable within this body of yours?

Later, when they all come back to the inn after adventuring, the party makes you spin for them so they can get a good look at your new attire, and although shy, your smile is brighter than it has ever been. 

Saving Thaniel is no easy task, and you probably have a few more gray hairs after that battle. With Halsin’s life at stake if you fail, you fight tooth and nail to protect the portal. 

Even though it is not enough to lift the curse, Halsin’s eyes soften whenever he looks upon you, and that is all the reward you need. 

Your love does not end with Halsin; each party member has wormed their way into your heart. So when Shadowheart embarks on her quest with you at her side, you trust her to make the right choice. 

Dame Aylin is truly something to behold. The daughter of a goddess, and a god in her own right. To be reunited with her love after so many years is a love story of the ages. You’re lucky to bear witness to it, although it tugs at the heartstrings. 

The longing for a love such as theirs does not linger on your mind, not with the battle for Moonrise Towers looming overhead. 

Is this the end? Will you be free to live your life once more? The end does not feel as near as you are led to believe. Not all of the pieces fit together yet, and the unknown scares you. 

As you suspected, Ketheric Thorm was just one head of the hydra. There is much more to be done, and the journey ahead weighs heavily on your shoulders. You try to focus on your triumphs; the Shadowcurse is lifted, the land can begin to heal, and Halsin promises to remain by your side. 

A heart full of joy can only do so much when you’re running on fumes, requiring a warm bed and a few days rest. Your friends help distract you from the wear and tear of the past few weeks, always bickering about this or that. Usually you stay out of it, but Halsin has other plans on the journey to Wyrm’s Crossing, it seems.

Freeing Thaniel, and moreso, the land, has earned you a special place by Halsin’s side. You did not expect that place to come with an honorary nickname. 

Two simple words. It, at first, fills you with a sense of kinship, but soon begins to wear on your mind. As much as you love the affection it implies, one of those words hasn’t pertained to you for a long time. 

You find him that night at camp, voice hesitant. “Halsin, can I ask you something?”

“What is it, little duck?” He greets you with a pleased smile. 

“Well, that’s what I need to talk about. Little duck.”

“Does it not please you?”

“No–it’s not that. It’s just,” you pause, crossing your arms as you take a deep, calming breath. “I’m not little.”

“Are you not?” he inquires with a hint of mirth. 

Confused eyes lift to find his hand hovering above your head, a silent judgment of your height. 

Your stoic facade breaks with a smile, then with laughter, and you nudge him with your shoulder playfully. 

“You got me there,” you surrender, grinning ear to ear. 

Halsin laughs with you, but retains a more serious composure. “As much as that pleases me, should I call you by another name?”

“Please don’t,” you answer swiftly, needing no arduous thought to decide. 

From then on, anytime he says those two words, it fills you with warmth. 

Reuniting with the refugees saved from the Shadowlands brings you joy, but not as much as a real bed and a roof over your head does. 

Freshly washed and bathed, you almost forgot what it’s like to be clean. The quest to save the city is as grave as ever, yet all you needed was some self care to feel ready to take on the Elder Brain. 

The nights in Elfsong Tavern are anything but quiet, and you feel Halsin’s attention grow with each night, like he’s working up to something.

Maybe it’s just hopeful thinking, but you feel the chemistry between the two of you. Laughter and conversation is always easy with him, and he’s been touching you more. 

Nothing serious; grazing your arm, wiping a smudge of dirt off your face, his hand lingering on your shoulder. The contact, although small, brightens your mood, and you begin to yearn for it every time he’s near, even if you still think romance is out of the question. 

It’s almost comedic, how wrong you are. 

Not a week passes before Halsin confesses his feelings for you; how he yearns to feel your skin against his in a romantic night under the stars. You barely hear his next words over your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

His heart stirs for you, just as yours does for him. He seems so vulnerable, just now. Nervous, just as you would be in his shoes. You feel as though you are seeing a piece of him rarely shown, or perhaps you did not wish to see past the brawn. Your souls are of the same gentle nature, and just a rest away from uniting in bliss.

Fidgeting in your sheets, you try to calm your turbulent mind, but it is hopeless. Each shift calls attention to the throbbing in between your thighs, their thickness both a blessing and a curse. But your mind is still eager to race into dark territory. The night of your dreams is accompanied by your mountain of insecurities. 

You’ve been intimate with others before, but that was of a low time where you hid parts of yourself to please others. 

There will be no more of that. He will know you. All of you. Even if it means he does not want you after. 

With mind set, you find him in the clearing by the lake, his large hand upon the rough bark of a tree in silent communion. When turns to greet you, the relief and excitement in his eyes brightens the world around you both, and instills you with courage. 

All thoughts of revealing your most authentic self blow away with the breeze when Halsin relieves himself of his clothes. Standing proudly naked before you, he sweeps you up in his arms, his kiss as passionate and devouring as he promised, with roaming hands settling on your plump rear.

All of your insecurities come back to nag you all at once, and you break away from the kiss. “Wait, please.”

“What is it, my love?”

Crossing your arms, you begin to pace. The movement helps focus your thoughts, and you take a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m fat,” you begin with the simplest statement of your imagined deficiencies. “For most of my life now I’ve been various sizes of fat, and I’m probably always going to be fat. I don’t want to be. I didn’t choose it. I have stretch marks, flabby arms, back fat.”  

Your voice begins to shake as tears well in your eyes. “Yes, I’ve shrunk a bit these past few weeks, but it’s not enough! Not nearly enough. Because even if I do lose all this weight,” you pause, feeling the pressure build within–a truth so long known but never said aloud, ready to burst out of your chest whether you will it or not.

“I will still hate myself!” The first sob rips from your throat as the emotional dam is broken, shaking your entire being.

Halsin rushes to you, enveloping you in his embrace, cradling your head to his chest. 

“Beauty is not about size, little duck. Variety provides necessary balance in nature, and there is no shame in taking joy from its fruits. Your inner peace is what truly matters.”

Only now it occurs to you that he has also been judged for his size. Maybe not all negative, but that is not to say it did not have an ill-effect on his self-esteem and outward personality. 

After you stop shaking, he coaxes you to meet his gaze. Eyes red and puffy, you do as he wishes, taking in every beautiful detail of his face before settling on his eyes, as serene as the lake before you. 

“I love you as you are, stretch marks and all.” He strokes your face gently and then takes your hands in his. “Let me show you.”

Halsin guides you to the lake’s edge, and positions himself behind you, leaning both your bodies forward. The view is exquisite, but you know it is not what holds his attention. Cautious eyes follow the ripples of the water, slowly casting down until you see your reflection. 

Halsin smiles when you meet his mirrored gaze, wrapping his arms around your waist. The angle is unflattering, to say the least, but you are willing to try this for him. The heat off his bare skin is a comfort, but also a reminder that your clothes are what separates your skin from his. 

“If you are comfortable, I’d like you to undress. To look upon yourself as you do, and be comforted in my desire.”

Comfortable is not something that would describe you in this moment, but you feel ready to reveal yourself to him. Closing your eyes, you still your mind to the symphony of the world around you; crickets singing, a light breeze coming off the lake, and Halsin’s steady breathing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Heart fluttering in your chest, you take your shirt off with nervous hands. 

After helping you discard the fabric, he is instantly upon you, trailing kisses down the side of your face until he’s sucking at your neck. You melt into him, tilting your head to reveal more skin for him to worship with his soft lips. 

Rough fingers tickle at your waist with feather-light grazes, you giggle at the feeling and place your hands over his. Lacing your fingers in between his, you move with him as he explores your waist. 

Heat rushes to your core as you feel his cock twitch against your back. You grow impatient, moving his hands to hold your breasts. He moans into your neck, pulling you against him while gently squeezing. 

“More, please. I need to see all of you,” he pleads breathlessly in your ear, thumbs pulling down the hem of your bra. 

You pull away for only a second, the ambient temperature feels so cool compared to your combined heat. Gooseflesh prickles at your arms, and as you discard your bra, you can’t help but admire your form in the water below. Nipples hard from the cold air soon find shelter in Halsin’s large hands, and his heat blankets you in a blissful stupor once again. 

Lust pools in your mind, overpowering any insecurities still swirling within. Only thoughts of him remain, and you need no further instruction to take the next step. Your panties cling to your pants as you pull them down. Halsin provides an arm for you to balance while slipping them off, and you come face to face when you toss the unwanted clothing further onto land. 

You’d pounce on him, but he quickly turns you around to face the lake again with a playful chuckle.

“Almost, my love. Look how extraordinarily beautiful you are, just as nature intended.” 

There you are, indeed. There’s your belly that you’ve loathed, the fat thighs that have been your bane, your double chin that distracts you from your beautiful face. Yet, with him at your back, your perspective begins to change, and you can see this body as yourself instead of some ugly, fat thing.

Halsin trails one hand down your stomach, over your stretch marks, and cups the plush overhang, squishing slightly as he smooths his palm back up your body, feeling the entirety of your curves.

All of your fears dissipate with the irrevocable proof of his attraction digging into your back, and you turn to face him. This time, he allows you, his hands grabbing your ass greedily. You run your hands up his body, relishing the feel of his coarse hair covering his chest and stomach. He moans softly at your touch, but something else starts to happen. 

His eyes begin to glow as he backs away from you in haste. The transformation is something you have seen many times, but never did you see the emotion behind it.

There is nothing as flattering as a partner losing themselves so utterly in a shared moment. Changing back just as fast, he flashes you a sheepish grin. 

Halsin starts to speak, but your patience is at its limit, and you run up to him, pulling him down for a kiss before he can utter a single word. 

Having regained his confidence through your kiss, he leads you back to the tree he was initially at, kneeling at its base. He leads you down to him, laying you down on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. There is a fleeting taste of his passion-full lips as he kisses his way down to your breasts, taking his time to kiss each one before descending further. 

Halsin’s lips against your stomach tickle in a touch-starved way, adding coal to the fire raging inside your core. He slips his arms underneath your knees, bending and spreading your legs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he reaches around, parting your lips by pulling your flesh toward your belly button. 

The first soft kiss upon your exposed clit has you gasping for air, hands grabbing fistfuls of grass at your side. It was only the calm before the storm; a single taste of honey is not nearly enough to satiate the beast between your thighs, and he shows you no mercy. 

Tongue lapping at your cunt from entrance to throbbing bud, Halsin has you squirming under his touch. Just as you think his pleasure is at its peak, he suckles your clit.

Toe curling, back arching, you scream his name as you reach carnal heights you never thought possible.

You whine when he stops, but when you see his swollen cock twitching between his legs, you know exactly what he needs. He lets you push him back onto the grass, helping you straddle him with a steadying hand. Cock nestled perfectly between your folds, you nuzzle his nose with yours before he pulls you into a passionate kiss. The taste of you is intoxicating as you drink in his moans, slide your hips against him, obscenely slick.

Ever hungry for more, you explore his body with your mouth, hips never ceasing their slow but steady rock. Thick, muscled neck, tender for kissing. Pronounced pecks perfect for light, teasing bites. Sensitive nipples ripe for sucking. Veiny arms that your lips could kiss for days. The faded but still visible stretch marks around his shoulders that now hold a special place within your heart, and you kiss each one of them.

You worship him, mind and body just as he does with his burly hands ever present on your lust-driven body. His touch now bruising, he tries to push into you with each thrust, soft moans turning into desperate grunts.

He catches at your entrance, but you tilt your hips so he passes over your clit once again. You shiver at the feeling, and cannot help the laugh that accompanies the bliss.

Teasing Halsin is just so fucking hot.

With an animalistic growl, he rolls you onto your back, having had enough of your shenanigans. Your sounds of glee quickly turn lewd as his cock finally finds purchase, stretching you delightfully with his mighty girth. 

Even with a mind lost to passion, he takes your comfort into account, pushing in slowly to let you adjust. His hungry mouth kisses your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, until your canting, impatient hips break the last thread of his self control.

Burying his nose in your hair, one hand holding your breast, hips pumping, he makes love to you under the stars. You wrap your arms around him, holding onto his back to keep from being pushed away from the force of his hips. Your voices are a sweet, rhythmic chorus to nature as you feel a fluttering grow in your core. Halsin relinquishes his grip on your breast, hooking his hand underneath one of your knees to spread you further.

He reaches new heights within you, and you feel his cock harden more than you thought possible, readying to fill you with the nature’s bounty you’ve been craving. Your hands slip down to his ass, needing all of him inside you.

Your wants ever his desire, he buries his cock inside you and ruts, massaging the bundle of nerves deep within. Your fingers cling to him, leaving red lines down back unintentionally as the chord within finally snaps. Walls fluttering around him before clenching down, the waves of pleasure overtake you both, and he is a helpless passenger in its wake. He says your name like a prayer as his hips stutter in their rhythm. 

Cradling him close as you feel his cock pulse, you whisper in his ear, “I love you, Halsin.”

That mystical night under the stars with Halsin was legendary. Its memory, as well as the man himself, helps you through the rest of your quest, picking you up when you are down. All you need to do is close your eyes, and you’re right back in that clearing by the lake with him beside you.

You do not know if you would have gotten through it all without him. By the time you defeat the Netherbrain, you are the thinnest you’ve been since childhood, and also the most sickly. Stronger muscles and better food is not enough in the face of true exhaustion, and it shows in your gaunt face. 

The celebration with Halsin that night is sweet and gentle, containing all the relief of a battle hard won. You cannot help the tears that fall from your eyes as you reach your climaxes together.

It all feels like a dream. How could you have made it through all that alive and relatively well? With him at your side? A man as loving as he is large, he still does not impose anything on you. Talking as if there could be a chance you wouldn’t be going with him to resettle Moonrise Towers. 

You depart in the morning with nine wagons full of kids of various ages, all without families or homes, and your bear at your side. 

The savior of Baldur’s Gate is a bit rich for your liking, but it does give you a certain air of respect when you have to give them time-outs.

Halsin calls them all his ducklings, and it is so very fitting with how they follow him around from dawn till dusk. 

When you receive a letter with shaky lettering inviting you to the place where it all began, you’re more than happy to reunite with everyone. The time without doom hanging over your heads has certainly made you both plump and happy. You still struggle with body image issues, but you feel comfortable in your skin more often than not. A battle that is waning in your favor, with once barren fields blooming with slow acceptance.

Your appetite for life has always been large. Giant partner, a heap of kids to call your own, and enough tall tales to last them well into adulthood; you want for nothing in the years to come. 

With Halsin you build a loving home–an ending you never thought you deserved. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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[aliamor]

OMGGGG I have an ideaaaaa! <33

Okay so boom, CaseOh and his girlfriend (or just another streamer) doing the hardcore Minecraft challenge together!!

Caseoh is so sweet so he'll make sure that she has food and armor!!!!

As a plus (projecting myself here lolol), she loves the color pink so she was the one who saw the pretty cherry trees and thought of the Cherry Blossom Base!! 🥹🥹🌸

(also, watching CaseOh play Minecraft with Jynxzi and Sketch was a hard watch only because they didn't really know how to play😭... so I want her to have good knowledge of it)

Please if you could do this that would be so awesome!! <3

Thank you so much and I hope you have a good day! :) 🌸

Oooo i like thiss, i got you :)

Bro that stream with jynx and sketch had him STRESSED😭

Streaming minecraft with case was interesting but also made your heart swell. Case was always in the mines grinding for iron, coal, you name it. But as soon as he had what made him happy, he would suface back to you and smelt whatever needed to be.

As soon as the iron was good, he made full set of armor and dropped them to you and they filled four of your inventory slots.

“Case, you dont have too, you should be using this armor not me” you speak to him through your mic.

“Im making another set for me dont worry, i gotta make sure your safe well im off at seas” he would joke to you.

But not only did he stop with that, he would always check if you had enough food or what your hunger was looking like.

“baby, you got enough food?”

Or “hows your hungry? Whatchu at?”

“Partly hungry, im good but thank you”

Every so often as you guys adventure around the minecraft world he would drop fish into you inventory. As you explore, you had one biome in mind, its wood is what you wanted to use as your house and the color was just a fan favorite,

The Cherry Blossom biome.

Which felt like hours but really was max of 15 min before the pink leafs in the distance fills the next country mile of your screen. Of course case had no problem having his base being made out of blossom wood, he more of the fact liked it more than you did.

You got the structure down and farmed sand, wood, carpeting/ different materials for your flooring, beds, chest, all that good stuff to make it home. You both even went out and collected animals to have a farm.

Mwah,

This is like the one idea I actually went in writinh mode about, i just felt like i had too. Ill probably do this more often with some of the ideas. Lemme know if you like it or not, your thoughts are good to know so ill know how to make your ideas the best way possible for you to enjoy 🤍

[joanquill]

Ngl i don't know how to request clearly even i read all your rules so pardon me if i make any mistake

So my request is, maybe a headcanon of ( moriarty bros,billy) meeting f!reader who is calm and unreactive but has social anxiety ALSO likes trying medicine and posion on herself like maomao from apothecary diaries and is good at sword fighting

i'm sorry if it's too much or the grammer is bad

Sis, the way i only have you to get some mtp realistic content in whole tumbler to feed my deluluness😭 don't listen to anyone, you writing are masterpiece👏🏻

Apothecary!Reader with the Moriarty Brothers + Billy

Albert, William, Louis James Moriarty, and Billy the Kid

A/N: LMAOO GURL YOU PRAISE TOO MUCH BUT THANK YOU STILL 😭😂 I haven't watched The Apothecary Diaries, only saw some clips so I might get the character wrong 😅 but I've been planning to watch the anime and read the manga for some time now :)

Tag/s: Fem!Calm!Apothecary!SwordFighter!Reader (yeah sorry idk how to do the tags on this one 😅)

Albert James Moriarty

You two met during a soiree. You were working as a server when a noble lady accused you of poisoning her drink.

 You quickly debunked her statement and revealed the culprit, who was a nobleman with the poison left over on his fingertips and sleeves.

While the culprit was being dragged out by the police, he managed to break free and stole a sword from one of the armor on display.

Albert was about to step in but you managed to steal the sword in his hand and subdue him.

This completely caught Albert's attention, watching how you calmly proved your innocence and showcased your knowledge of medicine and poison and how you protected yourself with finesse.

After consulting with William, he went on to recruit you, seeing potential in your skills to help their cause.

And now, you were appointed as Albert's personal maid.

During gatherings, you're usually a poison tester and his shield-- I mean personal bodyguard from flirtatious noblewomen. (Much to your dismay)

This became a permanent position when someone tried to poison his wine at a gathering.

But he usually compensates by giving you rare herbs and ingredients.

That doesn't mean you stopped trying to find any means to not go to social gatherings though.

When you're experimenting, you can generally see him looming around--looking at your works and asking questions.

You'd ask him why the sudden interest, but he usually brushes them off as mere curiosity.

He likes listening to you talk about different medicines and herbs, finding it fascinating and even joining you in gathering herbs from the forest or planting them in the garden.

He once made you a special sweater that smelled like peppermint for Christmas, providing pockets for the herbs you collect. 

William James Moriarty

You two met when you were kids, back before William and Louis were still living in the slums.

You would try to give some medicine or painkillers to Louis whenever his heart condition acts up.

You and William also browsed the library and whatever books you could get your hands on about medicine and illnesses.

You two would stay by Louis' side to take care of him when his condition gets severe.

You try to look after William, scolding him when he pushes himself too far and nursing him back to health when needed.

But he usually teases you with how you would try poison in your free time, despite you explaining it's for research purposes.

However, you were separated when the two brothers were adopted by the Moriartys.

Until one day, you found two familiar faces in noble attire knocking on your door.

You became the team's medic and support.

He even prepared your own laboratory for your experiments, stocked with different herbs, plants, and ingredients.

Unfortunately, the poisons are all locked and only he and Louis have the key.

William usually has you at the back with Herder and Jack during missions, not wanting you to get into trouble despite knowing how to fight.

You're also his spar partner whenever he wants to sharpen or practice sword fighting.

Unsurprisingly, William usually wins. But he lets you have a victory every once in a while.

He also likes spending time with you in your office, watching you work on your latest creation, or listening to you explain or talk out loud, saying it brings him some sort of peace whenever he's in there with you.

Louis James Moriarty

Same with William's, you both met back when you were kids before they got adopted.

Whenever William is busy trying to find a way to buy food or other essentials, you would stay by his side and try to give him painkillers or medicine.

Sometimes, you would even bring some soothing aromatic plants to help him rest or talk to him about medicine and poison to distract him from the pain.

You even try to make food or snacks that are healthy or help his condition.

He's amazed at the knowledge you possess that even he and his brother couldn't find in books, let alone the passion you have for apothecary.

This doesn't mean he'll let you test anything and everything you can get your hands on.

Not after seeing you accidentally blow up something during an experiment.

Same as William's, you separated after being taken to an orphanage but met again years after and were recruited.

You usually stay at home and help Louis with managing the manors, along with making medicine for everyone.

You usually help him in the kitchen, trying new healthier recipes and avoiding poisonous ingredients.

The poor man has a panic attack every time you taste test poisons with a joyful expression.

He practically child-proofed the house to make sure you didn't do anything too reckless with your tests and experiments.

He also makes sure you don't create anything bizarre whether it's a request or a harmless trial, like an aphrodisiac or hallucinogen.

You two also share advice and spar when it comes to using the blade, despite you using a sword and him focusing more on knives.

You even try to make suggestions, like putting poison on his blade but William quickly shut down the idea.

Billy the Kid

You were assigned as his partner by the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

At first, you were both against it. With Billy's history and you're lack of social skills mixed with his cheerful personality, it was a recipe for disaster.

However, you two managed to work together and somehow fit each other's style, fighting in tandem with your sword and his revolvers.

You're usually in the front lines while he watches your back and blind spots.

Despite facing your enemies head-on, Billy makes sure you don't get hurt and takes the hit when he sees you about to get hurt.

Earning a lecture from you while you tend to his injuries, saying he shouldn't throw himself into danger and you can defend yourself.

Additionally, he usually takes charge when it comes to talking to clients or other people while you stay in the back.

...Maybe looking around the area for any herbs or plants that pique your interest.

This is why Billy usually keeps an eye on you and makes sure you focus on the mission, dragging you by the collar or hand, sometimes even linking your arm with his to make sure you don't wander off.

When you're in your lab experimenting, it doesn't take long before Billy is knocking on your door with fruit snacks, sometimes he even brings some plants he thinks you would like.

While you're working, he's usually in the back looking at the different apparatuses and ingredients on the shelves, asking questions.

It doesn't help when he tries teasing you, saying how unfriendly and awkward you are with people to get a response.

He even stretches your cheeks to see you smile despite your annoyed expression when he's feeling extra bored.

Unfortunately, it only extends to the nicknames he gives you and the corny jokes he'd tell you in between missions.

And the day he finally sees you laughing your heart out, he'll never let you live it down and try to recreate that sound from you.

A/N: Side note where are there no gifs for Billy :') I get that he wasn't in the anime but I see gifs of manga panels so why...

[storm-angel989]

Fighting For Control (Valentino x Employee Reader, Valentino x Wife Valentino x Daughter)

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING.

Eating Disorders. Eating disorder Treatment. Valentino.

Valentino sat off to the side and gazed at the stage. One by one, his dancers strutted down, swung their hips towards him and gave a smile. Casual dress was required for this particular cat walk. Despite being known as one of the most ruthless bosses of hell, he still needed to make sure his girls were healthy, and taking care of themselves. After all, it was just bad business to have his girls passing out in front of clients. He nodded in approval as each girl walked, seeming pleased until one of his dancers seemed to wobble down the stage.

A frown crossed his face. Reader. 

He knew when he hired her she would struggle with adjusting to a more comfortable lifestyle. And now as he took in her two loose braids, oversized sweater and jeans that he noticed last week were falling off her hips, alarm bells were ringing. He waited until the rest of the girls finished and then leaned over to the demon next to him. 

“I need reader in my office. Now. The rest of the girls are free to leave. And tell the nurse’s office to be on standby.”

Truth be told, he suspected when he hired her that she suffered from an eating disorder. Most of his girls did at some point in their careers. The majority of them came from a traumatic past, a life of fighting to survive. It was only to be expected that in this new line of work, the removal of that constant stress occasionally manifested in less than ideal ways. As he walked back to his office, he considered how he should handle this situation. In his early days, he would have simply forced her on the scale and if the number that flashed beneath his displeased him, he would have sent her off to the hospital for treatment, with the understanding that she could return only when she demonstrated progress. After all, he had a business to be concerned with, and an image to uphold. 

But now he had his own teenage daughter, one who struggled with her own issues surrounding food. Following her through therapy, working with her during family dinner time, and holding her as she cried because the little voice inside her head made her think she wasn’t good enough, would never be thin enough, pretty enough, had changed his entire perspective on both the illness and its treatment. He was thankful his experience in the field helped him catch his little girl before she was in as rough shape as reader clearly was, but his experience with someone he loved certainly made him a bit softer to his workers who were struggling. He took his seat in his chair as he considered his options. Separation of work and home- this wasn’t his daughter, or his wife. This was his employee. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t show compassion to her- concern and care. After all, she was battling a monster he had only glimpses into. 

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Ah. Come in,” he called. He studied reader as she walked in. Her hair was back in two loose braids, a useless attempt to hide her hair loss. Her jeans were practically falling off her hips with each step she took. Her tee shirt and oversized cardigan were recognizable defense mechanisms- armor she was desperately trying to hide behind. He knew he needed to come from a place of concern, or he would be shut down instantly. 

“Take a seat muñeca, ” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. 

She did so reluctantly and her eyes averted his gaze. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” Her voice was soft. Frightened. 

“No, bebita. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I am concerned about you. Tell me the truth, doll. Is everything okay? Are the other girls treating you alright?” He asked. 

“Yes sir, they treat me fine,” she muttered. 

He considered how to approach this. Looking at the big picture, she was relatively new to him. She didn’t really know him or his methods. Softness, first, he thought was the best option. “You’ve been with me for how long now…three months?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you live in one of the flats with the other girls, yes?”

She kept her gaze down. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you finding the essentials sufficient? Your room, clothing, food?”

That got a reaction out of her. He watched as she switched to defensive mode at the mere mention of food. His heart sank. Part of him wished his suspicion was inaccurate, but her behavior simply confirmed his fear.

“Yes, sir. Everything is fine. Can I go now?” 

“You may not.” He stood up and pulled a scale out from his desk. “I’m noticing a concerning pattern of behavior, cariño. I need you to step on the scale for me, hm?”

The defensiveness overtook her. “No.”

He expected such a reaction. She needed to be reminded who was in control here- it was her best chance at survival. The red chains sprang forward and wrapped around her wrist, bringing her to him. 

“I own you. You will do what I say, when I say it. And that includes this. Understood?”

He watched the familiar battle unfold. Unlike his daughter, he had control over this demon. More of the ability to save her from herself. He released the chains and he nudged her to the scale- the one that wouldn’t flash the number on the base, and instead send the data directly to his phone. Another trick he learned with his daughter. Without another option, reader stepped on. 

He checked the digits that popped up on his phone. Valentino felt his stomach drop. The number was by far one of the lowest he had seen. Guilt spread through him, anger at himself and this illness. He should have been keeping a closer eye on her.  He only hoped the threat of his contract would be enough motivation for her to comply with treatment. Technically speaking, he could keep her alive. But there were parts of an eating disorder he couldn’t control.  

“Alright, babydoll. Step off,” he said quietly, sliding a hand under her arm. “And sit for me.”

Terror spread across her features. “What is my weight?”

Valentino looked at her evenly. “Too low for me to comfortably have you on my stage, bebita.”

“But what exactly is my weight?” she begged. 

“You need to let me worry about that, sweetheart,” he replied evenly. He knew better than to get combative. After all, he was the one in control here. Not her. And he certainly wouldn’t let her illness work its way in. “Let me be very clear with what will happen next.  I’m going to escort you down to the nurses office. From there, you will be hospitalized until that number is in the healthy range.”

Reader crossed her arms. “You can’t do that! I’m an adult!”

“Oh I can. I own you. Or have you forgotten that?” He leaned forward, “And I refused to let one of my most promising dancers starve herself into nothingness.”

“I eat, Valentino. I do! Please, just let me go home,” she begged. “Please! I’m fine! I swear!”

He looked at her softly. “You’re not fine. That much is clear. Come along now. I’m taking you whether you fight me the entire way or not.” 

Normally, he would have the nurse meet them with a wheelchair for a number that low, but she was already so frightened. His heart ached for her, for the pain she was going through both physically and mentally. He slipped his hand under her arm and guided her down the hallway. She seemed to shut down in his grasp, a quiet, fragile doll. 

“You will do what they say, you will eat what they tell you and you will not fight them, do you understand?” He asked once they were in the nurse's office. He sat her on the bed. “We’re going to get a gown on you. Arms up.” 

He carefully pulled back her sweater.  She sat stiffly, not actively fighting him but also not helping him in any way. He tugged off her t-shirt and bit back the gasp that threatened in the back of his throat. Emaciated wasn’t a strong enough word. 

He kept his touch gentle as he tied back the gown and helped her lay on the bed, but inside, anger bubbled. This disease, this illness was something he couldn’t eliminate, as much as he wanted to. He watched and listened quietly as the doctor as he came over and began to work over her. After a few moments, the doctor turned to Valentino. 

“Two thousand calories, through her nose to start,” the doctor said. “And we’ll get her into therapy right away.”

He wanted to tell the doctor to talk to her, not to him. But that illusion that he was in control, not her eating disorder, couldn’t be broken. Valentino turned to her and to his surprise, she looked furious.

“Five hundred. And no feeding tube.” She shot back. 

The doctor looked at Valentino and Valentino bit back a sharp word. It wouldn’t help anything for him to be angry.

. “This isn’t a negotiation. What the doctor says, goes. The only choice you have is if you take this willingly or we keep you too sleepy to fight.” 

His words seemed cold even to him, and he honestly suspected that that was an empty threat. He doubted her body could handle anything extraneous at this point. But by the expression on her face, she didn’t know that. 

“Valentino, no please,” she begged. “I’ll eat more, I promise.”

“Then prove it,” he replied sternly. He laid a gentle hand on her forehead, “I want to see next week's weigh in significantly higher.” 

Her tone hardened. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You do not.” 

“Fine.” 

Valentino watched as the doctor slid the tube into her, biting back the frustration that was building in his chest. Flashes of his own daughter being threatened with the same treatment raced through his mind.The threat was enough to scare her into his arms, sobbing and making the same promises. He was thankful she had kept her promise, and came home that day, willing to consume what the doctor prescribed. To an extent, of course- but they worked through it together.

Finally, once reader was settled, he watched as she closed her eyes. She had to be exhausted. He hoped she realized now that she was in a safe place, and they were on the same side, but he doubted it. Which was fine with him- he didn’t mind being the enemy for the time being.  

“Will she make it?” Valentino asked as they stepped out of the room. 

The doctor shrugged. “She should. She’s lucky you are so…attentive to your employees.” 

Valentino felt his expression harden, a mask to protect helpself and his reputation. “It’s bad business to not be. I’ll check in on her tomorrow. If she needs anything, let me know and take care of it the best you can in the meantime. I expect updates- this one shows promise on my stage.” 

And with that, he turned and walked out. The clock on his watch said five, and he needed to go home. Exhaustion swept over him, feelings of helplessness and the worry that that could have been his daughter. His wife. Both struggled with their own body issues. The desperate feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him. He checked both their vitals on the app he had synched to his phone. The numbers were fine, but just checking wasn’t enough. He needed to see them, needed them in his arms, and needed to make sure with his own eyes that they were safe. He walked from the elevator to the door of his wife’s office. He pushed open the door without a knock and closed it behind him. 

She looked up from her computer. He smiled as he took in the sight of her. Pretty blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun. Blue light glasses to prevent headaches. And an outfit that she could dominate the entire world in. 

 “Hey honey, what’s up?” She asked as she stood up. “Everything okay?” 

He pressed his lips to hers and wrapped her in his arms. “Just a long day.” Even to him, the words sounded flat. He pushed her head to his chest and held her against him for a heartbeat. He wasn’t ready to talk, not yet. At the moment, he just needed to hold her. 

She gave him a knowing look. “Mhm, sure. Bed tonight?” 

Of course she knew. He knew she knew. And she wouldn’t press the issue, not until he was ready. Or until bedtime. Whichever came first. 

“Is our baby princessa home or did she stay late at school?” He asked as he slowly released her. 

His wife pressed her cheek to his and gave him a nuzzle and a kiss. “She’s in her room last I checked. Why? Did she…”

“No, no. I just want to see my daughter,” he replied quickly. “Go back to work mi amore. So you can come home sooner.” 

She looked at him with concern. “You did have a rough day. Let me finish up, I’ll be home in an hour.” 

He gave her another kiss before letting her go back to her work, and he made his way upstairs to their own floor of the V tower. Their home they shared with his two best friends. Down her hallway, his daughter's door was closed and he hesitated for a moment but knocked anyway. He needed to see her, for his own sake.

“Baby Princessa? Are you awake?” 

“Daddy? Yeah come in, I'm working on my homework.” He heard her reply. 

He pushed open the doors of the once pink room. Now everything within reflected her current interests. Blacks. Grays. Reds. Purples. Not too different honestly than her Aunt Velvette’s. It was an adjustment, watching her grow from a little girl to a sullen teen, but he was grateful she had the support, love and anything else she needed.

“Hi bebita,” he walked over and kissed the top of her head. “How was your day?”  He expected to be met with sullenness, an implied go away, Dad, I’m busy, that so frequently laced her voice these days. 

To his surprise, she turned around and beamed. “It was long Daddy, but look I got an A on my Spanish test thanks to you!” She excitedly handed him the paper, “look! I even got the bonus words right!”

“Ah, pequeño amor, I am so proud of you! You did the work. Not me. But come here, give your papi a hug.”

She stood up and practically ran into his arms and jumped up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her for a moment, feeling her weight in his arms. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She was okay. She was healthy. They still had plenty of time together to be sure they had stamped her eating issues early on in life.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

The sound of her concerned voice broke him from his thoughts. He gently released her. His daughter was okay, and she would continue to be okay. 

“Yes, bebita. Come on, let’s pause your homework. Mom should be home soon, and let’s grab Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox. We can go out to dinner and celebrate that A. How’s that sound?” 

“Deal! Thanks Dad!” She jumped up and wrapped her arms around him again. “Best Papi ever!” 

That he wasn’t so sure of, but he accepted the compliment anyway. 

At dinner that night, he watched how much she consumed. How she reacted to the arrival of dinner. He searched desperately for hints that her issues were making a headway. To his relief, he saw nothing- no sign that her illness was anywhere close to showing its ugly self. 

He laid in bed later that night, the weight of his wife’s head on his chest as he filled her in on the events of the day, his worries, his fears. His concern for both reader and his daughter. It felt good to get it all out, to have his other half to share life with. 

“I just, I wish I had acted sooner,” he finished. 

“But the doctor says he thinks she’ll be okay?” She asked as she pressed her lips to the center of his chest. “Then that’s what matters.”

“It could have been our daughter,” he said aloud. “I didn’t see any sign of it at dinner tonight, but it could have been her lying in that hospital bed. It could have been her so close to death.”

His wife sat up. “That’s really what’s bothering you, isn’t it? Not just the fact that you’re seeing your own employees- which lets admit, Val, you’ve started to give a damn about, but also seeing your worst fear for your own daughter blossom in front of your eyes.”

He nodded and followed ensuite. “I keep seeing that image of her, she was so thin it was terrifying. If I was even a week later…”

“But you weren't. You got reader into treatment on time, and are doing everything in your power to help her beat her illness. And, my love, our daughter is fine. We are doing everything we can to make sure that she continues to beat this. She’s in weekly therapy sessions, hell we haven’t had a dinner fight in almost two years.” She took his hands in his. “Val, you can’t beat yourself up over this.” 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hated this, the lack of control The feeling of helplessness. He wasn’t used to this feeling- Valentino was all about control. 

“Babe, where are you going?” His wife asked. 

“To check on our daughter.”

He pushed open the door to her bedroom and to his relief, he saw her curled up under her blankets, fast asleep. He stood there for a second, watching the rise and fall of her chest. He looked at his phone for the second time that day. Her vitals were fine. She was fine. Reader would be fine. He felt an arm wrap around his waist and he looked down at his wife. 

“She’s as perfect as the day she was born,” his wife said softly. “Come back to bed, Val. She’s okay.” 

Valentino allowed himself to exhale and back in his own bed, he laid his head on his wife’s chest and closed his eyes, allowing the sound of her heartbeat to fill his ears. “Mi amore, why do the people in my life not see the beauty that I see in them?” 

“Val, I wish I knew the answer,” she replied tiredly as she held him. “But I don’t. But I can tell you that you’ve done enough for today, you did the right thing for reader, and you, my love, need to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” She shifted herself under him and gripped him tighter. “I’ve got you. Now sleep.” 

He closed his eyes and allowed sleep to wash over him. His wife was right. Reader would be okay, and his daughter was okay. He would take care of them all with everything he had.

[mockerycrow]

SICK MOMENTS; Gaz Edition (GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist — gaz render by @ave661 <3

summary; this is the second part of my four part series of the 141 taking care of you, who’s sick. enjoy!

[WARNINGS; sickness, medication, civilian!reader, slight military inaccuracies, sick comfort.]

YOU’VE BEEN FEELING quite under the weather for the past two days. A weird pressure in your skull, a tickle in the throat. You didn’t really think much of it as you had much more important things to focus on like your job. You usually switch between working from home and working in an office setting every other day and unfortunately, your illness decides to make an appearance when you’re in the office.

You’re sitting in your office with all of your lights off, your computer screen turned down to low brightness. You’re squinting as you’re staring at the screen that is burning your eyes, an impossible to ignore pain settling in your skull and rattling around inside.

You make the mistake of swallowing, your throat muscles spasming when they figure out they’re tender, sore, and uncomfortable. You wince at the sharp pain as your hand reflexively goes to the front of your throat, your stomach churning uncomfortably. You sigh quietly, unable to deny that you’re indeed sick. You take a glance at the time on your computer and you realize you’re not even halfway through your workday yet. You contemplate what you should do; a good thing for yourself is to go home and rest but you have deadlines you can’t ignore. You decide that you should try to work through it. It’s not like sitting at a computer screen is taxing, right?

..Right?

An hour later and you’re having to save your documents and powering down your computer, your hands trembling as the pounding in your head is nearing unbearable. Tears spring up in your eyes, nearly spilling as you croak out a voice command for your phone to call Kyle. You hear your phone dial up and begin to ring his number. A crumbling guilt settles in your stomach as you know Kyle has to be on the local base right now, doing whatever he is doing. Your mind begins to race, saying that he’s going to be too busy to help you out, that calling him is a waste of time. You don’t even realize he picked up after the third ring.

You snap out of your state of overthinking after you hear Kyle’s calm voice call your name for likely the second or third time. “What’s going on?” Kyle asks, his voice ever so slightly muffled by the quality of the speaker—and your hearing is probably a bit scuffed, too. “Sorry if I’m bothering you, but..” You croak, grimacing at how horrible you sound. “..Can you come pick me up from work?” 

“You’re never a bother, love.” Kyle reassures, his voice considerably softer than his previous sentence. “Are you feeling alright? You don’t sound too well.” You shake your head no before remembering it’s only a phone call and not a video call—and you regret shaking your head as your vision spins for a moment. “No,” You utter, the ache in your throat worsening. “I’ve come down with.. something. Not sure yet.”

You hear shuffling and Kyle’s muffled voice say something, something that wasn’t directed towards you so you pay no mind to it. “I’m on my way, sweetheart. I’ll pick up some medicine on the way to ya, yeah?” Kyle murmurs, making your chest all fuzzy with how concerned he seems. “Mhm,” You him. “Love you.”

“I love you too, see you soon.” And with that, Kyle hangs up.

It doesn’t take him too long to leave the base and pick up some medicine, but to you? It feels like an eternity. You sit there in the dark, occasionally tapping the screen of your phone so you can check the time. You feel like your guts are churning and twisting and you feel like someone is taking a sledgehammer and is ringing a bell—like one of those giant bells you can find at Christian churches that ring every hour. There’s a soft knock at your door, which you croak a sickly “come in”, assuming it’s your knight in shining armor as you already got the okay from your boss to leave through text.

The door opens, letting the light pour in which makes you wince. You recognize the silhouette and the stature of the person almost immediately—it’s Kyle. “Hey,” He calls out to you softly. You can’t see his face, but you can tell he’s wearing the zip up you bought for him months ago on his birthday and he’s holding a plastic bag. Your lips curl into a small smile, and your pain fades for a moment as the fact that he wears the hoodie you bought him to work hits you. Kyle closes your office door and finds his way to your desk in the dark. “Hey.” You echo, your voice gritty and scratchy.

“I’m going to turn on your desk lamp, alright?” Kyle hums as he sets the plastic bag of goods down onto your desk. “Alright.” You echo once again, your voice quieter than before. You dreaded the light. Alas, he turns the light on and you see his beautiful brown eyes look at you, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly with concern very apparent on his face. “Aw, sweetheart.” Kyle utters, which gives you an idea that you likely don’t look too well. His hand reaches out to touch your forehead; his palm then flips to the back of his hand. “You’re burnin’ up. Good thing I got medicine, hm?”

You lean into his touch, Kyle’s hand cupping down to your cheek instead. “Sweaty,” Kyle points out, making you huff. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You reply with a playful snark, but you sound a bit pathetic from how stuffy you sound. “It’s sergeant, actually.” He replies with a grin, making you snort—and then wince because it hurt your entire head. Kyle begins to grab items from the bag; pain and fever reducers, cough drops, anti-congestant, a bottle of water.. And a box of tea for home, despite already having likely a box already waiting in the cabinet.

You watch with a warm stomach as Kyle pops out the pills for you and you notice he did his research for what medicine could go with what. “I love you.” You blurt out suddenly, meeting Kyle’s eyes. He blinks for a moment before smiling—his fucking smile—and responding with a tilted up tone, questioning. “I love you too..?” Kyle questions the sudden pushed tone, but you don’t elaborate as you stare up at him, thinking about how you’re going to marry this man one day as he frets over your health without complaint.

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