#or kraken kyle

[alaskan-wallflower]

someone pls give me9 an idea for more giant kyle art i’m fresh out-

[samanthasgone]

Credit: penaltyboxpodcast ( Instagram )

Shining a spotlight on the trailblazers and game-changers who bring power, skill, and diversity to the ice. 🏒🌟 #NHL #Hockey

[squidsquadlove]

somewhere, Kyle Dubas is looking at 52, Tye Kartye, with longing in his soul. can I make this man a penguin? he wonders.

[banatsoltana-6]

يُرجى مراجعة هذه المشاركة… "سكسيات فطوم وفافي بنات السلطانه طلعت الكرزات🍒 وكشفت صدرها وطيزها عارية سنابات نااار لا يفوتك 🔞🔥".

[hockeyupdate]

"The Tampa Bay Lightning have acquired forwards Yanni Gourde and Oliver Bjorkstrand, along with a fifth-round draft pick in 2026 as part of a three-team trade with the Seattle Kraken and Detroit Red Wings, vice president and general manager Julien BriseBois announced today. As part of the trade, Seattle has acquired forward Michael Eyssimont, a first-round draft pick in 2026, a first-round draft pick in 2027 (both top-10 protected) and Toronto’s second-round draft pick in 2025 (previously acquired from Utah). Tampa Bay also acquired unsigned defenseman Kyle Aucoin as part of the trade. Seattle will retain 50% of Gourde’s salary while Detroit will retain 25% and acquire the highest selection between Tampa Bay's fourth-round pick in the 2025 NHL Draft or Edmonton’s 2025 fourth-round pick acquired by the Lightning last May."

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 6

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER

Context Warning: NSFW! Oral Sex, Author's Poor Attempt in Smut & Dark Fic, Fingerfucking

A kiss was enough to confirm that you were to live till the end of time in their fortress, but at the same time, unease slithered through the cracks of your mind like a slow-acting poison.  

A King wanted you—not Jonathan, but another one. A King who was known as the Horror of Monsters. His name alone sent shivers down spines, whispered in dark corners, and sung as a warning in the dead of night. His nation was at war with Kyle’s, a conflict steeped in blood and centuries-old hatred, and the other three monsters were no different—none of them were on good terms with this said Horror. You didn’t know the history, had never read or heard of the true reason for their bad blood, and they refused to elaborate on why they longed to tear the Kraken’s throat out with their own hands.  

But you were determined to find out. If you were to survive in this world of monsters and kings, then ignorance was a luxury you couldn’t afford. No matter how much you hated what you had been sold into—  

Achoo!  

You sniffled and rubbed your nose, scowling at the dust that danced in the stale air. You waved your hand in front of your face in a half-hearted attempt to clear it away, muttering under your breath, “God, the dust . . .” Irritation simmered beneath your skin as you tugged on the sleeve of your dress, pulling it over your palm to wipe the thick layer off the book’s cover. A dull, muted shade revealed itself beneath your touch, its colors once lost to time now returned with the simplest gesture.  

“What’s the use of so many servants if they don’t even clean the library?”  

Your voice fell into the silence, swallowed by the endless rows of towering shelves, met with no response—which, much to your delight, meant you were finally alone. With a quiet hum, you let yourself sink to the ground, the aged floorboards creaking softly beneath you.  

A rare moment of peace. A time alone.  

A book in hand.  

A room steeped in the rich scent of varnished wood and aged paper.  

It was . . . familiar. A feeling long buried under years of survival and unwanted touches that seared your skin, under cruel gazes that saw you as something less than human.

You traced your fingertips over the brittle, yellowed pages, careful as if touching autumn leaves that would crumble at the slightest pressure. The first few pages were mundane—publication date, author, publisher—but when you flipped to the first chapter, your eyes landed on a single word.  

The Sirens. 

The name itself carried weight, thick with the taste of salt and the distant echoes of songs never meant to be heard by human ears.  

Creatures of the deep, infamous for their voices—voices that could weave spells of longing and sorrow, that could pull the weakest of minds into the sea’s cold embrace, drowning with a smile on their lips, believing they had ascended to heaven. And as if their voices were not deadly enough, the gods had blessed them with beauty beyond mortal comprehension—skin that shimmered like gold under the sun, eyes that held the weight of forgotten centuries, tails sculpted from crystal and dusted with stardust. And wings—large, powerful, and soft enough to cradle lost souls in their final moments.  

The author described them with a reverence that bordered on worship. Like they had once loved a Siren.

And you hated that of all things, of all the different illustrations and poetic descriptions, your mind conjured only one image.

Kyle.

You clenched your jaw, fingers gripping the fragile paper as you forced yourself to read on.  

—If one were to escape the spell of a Siren’s song, they would never be free. The Siren would haunt them, slipping into their dreams like a succubus, twisting their nights into longing and despair. And once they heard the song again, no matter how strong their will, they would succumb. They would fall.

Your throat tightened.  

Perhaps you were a defect.  

Perhaps there was something in your blood, something wrong with you that had allowed you to break free from Kyle’s enchantment the first time. Something unnatural, something no one could explain.

You turned the page and your heart stilled when your eyes landed on a new chapter.  

—Weakness.  

The ink bled into the parchment like a secret waiting to be uncovered.  

You skipped over the grotesque descriptions of how to rip off their wings, how to descale their tails for medicine, and how to harvest their feathers for blades. No, you weren’t looking for ways to hurt them physically. That would be meaningless.  

You needed something deeper.  

—Once a Siren falls in love, they offer their voice, heart, and soul. They become bound, eternally owned by the one they give everything to.

Your breath hitched.  

The words repeated in your mind, over and over, twisting into something dangerously close to realization.  

You closed the book.  

A loud, resounding thud echoed through the library.  

And as if summoned by the very knowledge you had just absorbed, the heavy doors groaned open, the sound breaking the quiet sanctuary.  

Footsteps. Rhythmic.

And then, a voice. Silken, melodic.

“There you are,” Kyle purred, his voice slithering into your ears. “We’ve been looking for you.”  

You turned your gaze to him, unhurried, and let your fingers lazily drag over the book’s spine before meeting his piercing gaze.  

Slowly, you closed the book and placed it on the table beside you, watching as his eyes flickered to it for the briefest of moments.  

“What for?” you asked, your tone flat, unreadable.  

There were only ever two answers to that question.  One—to fuck you. Two—to talk about something that ultimately served their interests.  

Kyle’s lips curved into something that barely resembled a smile. “We’re getting you fitted for your clothes.”  

You blinked, unimpressed. “Don’t I already have a full wardrobe? What’s the use of all those clothes?” you asked.  

His fingers grazed your jaw, featherlight, curling around a lock of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. A mockery of gentleness.  

Kyle sighed, tilting his head. “Can’t you just let us have the joy of dressing you up?”  

You rose to your feet, your patience thinning. “Do I even have a choice?”  

“Of course—”  

“It wasn’t a question, Kyle.” Your voice sharpened, laced with irritation. “One way or another, you always get what you want. The masters of this Fortress always get their way. I don’t have a fucking choice, so stop trying to get in my head and make me think I do.”  

You turned sharply, walking toward the aisle where you had pulled the book from, hoping—praying—that he wouldn’t follow. But his boots clicked against the floor, trailing behind you.  

“I don’t get it,” he mused. “You escaped my song. You snapped out of Soap’s dreams before Simon ever reached you.”  

You slammed the book back into place, the force rattling the shelf.  

“You’ve read about Sirens,” Kyle murmured, amusement flickering in his gaze. “What’s your conclusion?”  

Your eyes narrowed.  “Doesn’t take much to figure out,” you said.  

Kyle took a step closer, lips quirking.  “Then let me tell you something about Sirens, love,” he murmured, voice dipping into something darker. Your breath caught as he suddenly pulled you flush against him, his warmth seeping into you. His hand slid down and against your skin, he whispered, “We love till the end of time.”

“Till the end of my life, you mean?” You swallowed, gazing down at his hand disappearing underneath the hem of your dress, and frowned as you felt a now common sensation of calloused fingers against your clothed sex.

“No, my love,” he kissed your temple and traced kisses down your jaw. “Till I have nothing else to offer but my dust.” His fingers skillfully parted your undergarment to the side and ran his fingers on your folds. Then he found the sensitive bud and began to roll circles, making you close your eyes and relish 

the feeling.

You shouldn't be. But if this was what it takes, then so be it.

Kyle's fingers continued their relentless teasing, circling and stroking your sensitive bud as he pinned you against the bookshelf. His knee pressed firmly between your thighs, parting them, as his other hand groped your breast, thumbing your hardened nipple.

"Why me, Kyle?" you gasped out, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to spill from your lips at his touch. "Why am I so special that you want to claim me as yours, forever?"

Kyle's eyes glowed in a way that resembled how the sea shimmered under the light of the Sun. "Oh, you should know by now why," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You’re not quite human, yet you don’t appear to be a monster as well. And that is something we want to unravel.” His hand slid from your breast to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but possessive and claiming.

"And then there's this," he purred, his fingers delving deeper, stroking your slick folds. "The way you respond to my touch like your body was made for me. For us." His thumb circled your clit, making your hips jerk against his hand. "Fuck, you are addicting," he demanded, his face inches from yours, "much more than any wine, much more than anything I have.”

He crashed his lips against yours in a bruising, demanding kiss, swallowing any protests you might have had. Despite the roughness, there was a dark passion to it that sent shivers down your spine. His tongue plundered your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were left panting, your lips tingling and swollen from his assault. 

His eyes bore into yours, blazing with a fierce, possessive light. “We won’t let you go.”

His fingers never stopped their maddening circling at your core, stoking the heat building within you. Your body arched into his touch, craving more, even as your mind rebelled against his words.

"And why is that, Kyle?" you gasped out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Why do you want to own me so completely?"

He chuckled, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "Because you're a rare gem in a sea of dull, obedient diamonds. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "And we always get what we want, one way or another.”

Kyle's lips crashed against yours again, more insistently this time, demanding your surrender. You turned your head to the side, trying to resist, but he simply followed, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck. A shiver ran through you as his teeth grazed your pulse point, sending a jolt of reluctant desire straight to your core.

Large hands gripped your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he hitched your legs around his waist. Before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you towards the large oak table in the center of the library. The books and papers scattered across the surface went flying as he swept them aside, the thuds and rustles filling the air.

He sat you down on the edge of the table, your dress riding up your thighs. His hands slid up the bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shivered as his fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing the fabric up and over your hips until it pooled around your waist.

"Kyle, wait . . ." you breathed, placing your hands against his chest in a feeble attempt to hold him back. But your resistance was crumbling, your body betraying your reluctance.

He ignored your weak protest, his focus solely on his mission to claim you completely. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers brushing against your cloth-covered sex. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily into his touch.

"Stop fighting it," he murmured, his voice low and persuasive. "You feel what this is between us.” 

Kyle guided you down onto your back on the table, your body splaying across the cool, polished wood. He positioned himself between your parted thighs, his hand gripping your hip possessively. His touch was firm yet gentle, guiding you into place as if you were a rare artifact he meant to admire and claim.

He leaned over you, his face hovering above yours for a moment before he began to trail soft kisses along the column of your throat. You shuddered as his lips brushed against your skin, your pulse quickening beneath his mouth. His kisses were feather-light, barely there and at the same time, sensual, teasing, leaving the faintest hint of a mark on your flesh.

Kyle's lips moved lower, his mouth trailing down to the hollow of your collarbone. He pressed a particularly soft kiss there, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. You felt your breath hitch, your chest rising and falling more rapidly with each passing second.

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick folds. A moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion, your head falling back as he began to stroke your most sensitive spots. Your body was already reacting to his touch, craving more even as your mind struggled against the intensity of it.

At the same time, Kyle's other hand roamed your curves, kneading the soft swells of your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. His fingers traced the neckline, dipping teasingly into the valley between your breasts before sliding up to brush against your collarbone.

"Kyle . . ." you gasped out, your voice breathy and strained. Your hips undulated against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. The dual sensations of his fingers stroking your sex and his lips worshipping your skin were driving you to the brink of madness.

He murmured against your throat, his voice a low, seductive rumble, "Shh, just feel it. Feel how good we can be together."

His fingers continued their relentless assault, stroking and circling, while his other hand slid down your stomach, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending singing with sensation as he played you like a finely tuned instrument.

Kyle's fingers slid into your slick heat, his touch initially soft and slow, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. He watched your face intently, his eyes darkening with lust as he savored every flutter and clench of your inner walls around his digits.

You panted, your back arching off the table as his fingers began to move faster, plunging deeper into your core. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you closer to the edge.

He could feel your walls tightening, your breathing growing more ragged, and he knew you were close. Just as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy, your body stiffening in anticipation, he abruptly withdrew his fingers. Before you could cry out in protest, he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick them clean. A deep, approving groan rumbled in his chest as he savored your essence.

The sight of him tasting you, the raw hunger in his eyes, sent a fresh surge of arousal crashing through you. You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against your thigh, hard and throbbing, straining against the confines of his pants.

Kyle's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he drank in your desperate, wanton expression. He could see the battle raging within you, the war between your body's all-consuming need and your mind's feeble attempts at resistance. It only served to fuel his own desire, to make him more determined to shatter the last of your defenses and claim you utterly.

"Hush now, my love," he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "There's no use fighting it. Your body knows what it craves, even if your mind refuses to acknowledge the truth."

"Lift your hips for me, love," he commanded, his voice rough with need.

As if under a spell, you lifted your hips. Kyle peeled your panties down and off and tossed them carelessly to the side. He took a moment to admire your glistening folds, his eyes glowing with lust at the sight of your arousal. Then, with a low, approving groan, he leaned in and ran his tongue along your slit, savoring your essence like a man starved.

"Fuck, you taste divine," he growled, his voice muffled against your sex. He sealed his lips around your clit, suckling the sensitive bud as his tongue flicked and circled, stoking the flames of your desire ever higher.

Kyle's hands gripped your thighs, holding you open and exposed to his relentless onslaught. He delved deeper, his tongue plunging into your dripping core, fucking you with the slick muscle as he drank down every drop of your honey.

The obscene sounds of your pleasure filled the library as Kyle feasted upon your sex, his tongue and lips, and mouth devouring you with a hunger that bordered on feral. You could hear the lewd slurps and suckles, the wet, filthy noises of him lapping at your dripping folds like a man starved. The depraved symphony of your coupled moans and his ravenous consumption echoed off the bookshelves, a carnal duet that sang of your shared lust.

Kyle could feel your thighs trembling against his ears, your body quaking with the force of your impending release. He doubled his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, fucking into your clenching channel as he suckled hard on your clit. The combination of sensations proved too much, and with a sharp cry, you came undone.

Your back arched off the table, your fingers tangling in Kyle's hair, holding him against your sex as you ground your hips against his face. He groaned against your flesh, the vibrations only heightening your pleasure as your walls clamped down around his plundering tongue.

Wave after wave of bliss consumed you, your body shaking and writhing as the most intense orgasm of your life tore through you. Kyle drank down your release, swallowing every drop of your essence as if it were the finest nectar. He worked you through it, his tongue gentling as your spasms began to subside until he had wrung the last aftershock from your limp, sated body. Only then did he pull back, his face glistening with your juices.

Kyle pulled back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he gazed down at your trembling, flushed form. He licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of your essence. "You did so well, my love," he murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It was a kiss of praise, of reverence, his way of worshipping your pleasure. His tongue slid against yours, the taste of your combined releases mingling together, a lewd reminder of your shared climax.

Kyle's hands gentled on your body, his touch now soft and tender as he caressed your curves. He stroked your hair back from your damp forehead, tucking it behind your ear as he gazed at you with a look of pure adoration. His fingers trailed down your cheek, tracing the delicate line of your jaw before tilting your chin up to deepen the kiss.

"You're breathtaking," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, before he pulled away. He quickly fished out a kerchief from his pocket, wiping your lips clean, before he did his and between your thighs.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your intense climax, Kyle gently gathered your trembling body into his arms. He held you close, your head resting against his chest as you both caught your breath. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear was soothing, a comforting reminder of the life and passion that flowed through him.

After a few moments, Kyle reluctantly disentangled himself from your embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before rising from the table, his movements graceful and fluid despite his large stature. Your eyes followed him as he walked away, admiring the broad expanse of his back before he bent to retrieve your discarded panties from the floor.

Returning to your side, Kyle knelt beside the table, your panties dangling from his fingers. A small, indulgent smile played at the corners of his mouth as he gazed at your sated, flushed face. "Here, let me help you with these," he murmured, his voice low and gentle.

He carefully slipped the delicate fabric up your legs, his fingers lingering on your skin, tracing the lines of your calves and thighs with a touch that was almost reverent. Once he had tugged the panties up to your hips, he pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. The gesture was sweet and intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure you had shared.

Rising to his feet once more, Kyle smoothed your dress down your legs, ensuring that you were covered and comfortable. His hand lingered on the curve of your hip, giving it a soft, approving squeeze before he reluctantly pulled away.

"There now," he said, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "All put back together. At least, for the moment." His eyes glinted with mischief and promise, a silent implication that he looked forward to stripping you bare again, to exploring every inch of your skin.

Kyle's hand lingered on your hip for a moment longer before he reluctantly pulled away. He gazed down at your sated form, a look of deep satisfaction on his handsome face. "Think you can stand, love?" he asked softly, his voice gentle yet tinged with anticipation.

At your nod, Kyle slid his hand up your arm, his fingers wrapping around your elbow to help steady you as you sat up. He kept his other hand on the small of your back, supporting your weight as you swing your legs over the side of the table. After a moment to collect yourself, you pushed to your feet, your body only slightly unsteady.

A slow, approving smile spread across Kyle's face as he watched you find your balance. "Excellent," he murmured, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your form. He kept his hands on your elbows and waist as he guided you towards the door, his touch firm yet gentle. You walked alongside him, your body still tingling from your climax, as you made your way through the winding corridors of the fortress.

The stone hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the walls. As you turned a final corner, you found yourselves standing before an impressive set of double doors. Kyle paused for a moment, his hand on the handle, before pushing the door open to reveal the room beyond.

As the door creaked open, the room inside revealed a spacious, well-lit chamber. The walls were adorned with tapestries that glowed faintly in the magical light, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. Several plush couches were scattered around the space, arranged in a loose, inviting circle. Low tables, made of dark wood, were scattered between the seating, each one holding a few candles and small, arcane trinkets that pulsed with magical energy.

The room was comfortably warm, with a touch of enchantment in the air, giving it an almost ethereal quality. The magical lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space brightly, their glow shimmering in a spectrum of blues, purples, and golds.

Jonathan sat off to one side, casually leaning against one of the couches with a cigar between his lips. Smoke swirled lazily around him, his eyes half-lidded as he exhaled. Soap was nearby, seated with Simon, both of them exchanging quiet word.

The moment you stepped inside with Kyle, Jonathan’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before he flicked the cigar out of his hand, stamping it out with a quiet, almost imperceptible gesture. His eyes shifted between you and Kyle, a knowing look passing between them, but he merely smirked.

Johnny, on the other hand, seemed to brighten immediately, his sharp, perceptive nature picking up on the shift in the air. His usual smirk was more pronounced as he took in the sight of you both. He seemed to know exactly what had transpired. He stood up, walking towards you. His hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he took your hand in his. His lips curled into a soft smile.

Johnny's thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand as he looked at you, his expression softer now—earnest beneath the usual mischief in his eyes. His voice dropped into something quieter, more personal, edged with uncertainty even as he tried to play it off with a faint smile.

"So," he murmured, "do you finally forgive me now?"

The question hung in the air, delicate and heavier than it should’ve been. Your eyes met his, the silence between you stretching just a second too long. You didn’t speak. You simply sighed—tired, guarded, but not dismissive. It wasn’t a “no,” but it wasn’t a “yes” either.

Johnny’s smile faltered for the briefest moment. Then he gave a small, understanding nod, his gaze lowering just slightly as if to hide the flicker of regret behind his lashes. He knew what that sigh meant. You hadn’t fully forgiven him—not yet. But you were here, and you let him hold your hand. That, in his eyes, was already something.

Without another word, he gently tugged you with him, leading you toward the couches. You followed, the warmth of his hand a quiet anchor in the tension that still lingered in your chest.

As you settled between Johnny and Simon, the quiet hum of magic still thrumming gently in the air, Simon shifted beside you. His gloved hand reached up, fingers warm and steady as they found your chin and tilted your face toward him. His dark eyes met yours—gentle, unreadable, but searching.

Without a word, he leaned in.

Through the thin fabric of his balaclava, he pressed a firm, reassuring kiss to your temple. The contact was brief, but grounding—Simon’s own quiet way of offering comfort, acknowledgment . . . perhaps even affection. A low hum rumbled in his chest, almost inaudible, as if pleased by your presence beside him.

His gaze flicked just over your shoulder, catching Kyle seated across the room on a solo couch. The other man lounged with ease, legs spread and arms draped across the cushions, yet there was a subtle alertness in his posture. Simon held his stare for only a second before turning his attention back to you, making no comment. Whatever passed between them needed no words.

Just then, the heavy doors creaked open again.

A single servant stepped inside, silent and composed. Veiled from head to toe in fine silks and dark fabric, they revealed not a trace of skin, only the smooth glide of movement and a voice softened by the weight of enchantment.

"The seamstresses have arrived," they announced, bowing low in deference.

Jonathan, who had remained lounging coolly, lifted his chin lazily at the servant. “Let them in,” he ordered, voice calm but firm, the tone of a man who expected to be obeyed without hesitation.

The servant bowed again and turned on silent feet, vanishing back through the door to usher in whoever waited beyond.

The door opened once more, and the seamstresses entered in a quiet, flowing procession—three of them, each clad in heavy, finely woven fabrics that veiled every inch of their bodies. Their movements were graceful, deliberate, each step taken with a bow of the head, eyes cast downward in silent deference. Not a word escaped their lips as they crossed the threshold, their presence adding an air of reverence to the room.

They carried their tools of the trade tucked into delicate pouches and folded cloth rolls—spools of shimmering thread, enchanted needles, and measuring ribbons that glowed faintly with latent magic.

Jonathan, still lounging with one leg crossed over the other, flicked his gaze toward them with mild interest before turning his golden-eyed attention to you.

With a slow, fluid gesture—two fingers raised from the arm of the couch and a casual tilt of his chin—he addressed them. “She’s the one,” he said, voice steady and assured, the subtle rasp of something ancient curling in the back of his throat like smoke. “You’ll be fitting her.”

The seamstresses paused in unison, their heads bowing a fraction deeper this time as their focus turned to you. None dared look you directly in the eye—an old custom, perhaps, or one bred from deep respect or fear. One of them took a careful step forward, hands folded over her front, waiting silently for your word or gesture of permission to approach.

The others stood ready behind her, already unfolding lengths of fine fabric—some gauzy, others heavy with embroidery—each piece clearly meant for you.

As you gave the faintest nod, the lead seamstress stepped forward, raising her gloved hand to beckon you gently. Her touch was feather-light as she guided you toward a concealed partition that had been conjured with a quiet murmuring spell—heavy silken curtains rising from the floor, creating a private space just off to the side of the room.

The fittings began in near silence, save for the rustle of fabric, the soft snap of measuring ribbons tightening around your form, and the occasional murmur of approval or contemplation in a tongue older than common speech.

The first gown they slipped over your frame was of deep sapphire velvet, high-necked and long-sleeved, hugging your form subtly but with grace. Intricate silver embroidery danced along the cuffs and collar, depicting curling ivy and sigils of protection. The dress swept the floor, with only your gloved hands and face visible. It made you feel royal—untouchable, serene.

When you stepped out, there was a moment of silence. Kyle offered a low whistle, then cleared his throat with a smirk. Johnny raised a brow, giving you a once-over before grinning in approval.

Simon, eyes unreadable behind the black of his mask, tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to sentence someone,” he murmured.

Jonathan gave a slow nod, eyes narrowing in pleased thought. “A queen’s poise. Cold . . . and exact.”

You tilted your head, considering their comments, before the seamstresses ushered you to the back.

The second gown was a forest green brocade, heavier, regal. The bodice was structured, with a squared neckline just barely revealing the clavicle. Gold threads shimmered through the fabric like sunlight through trees, and the skirt was layered, giving weight and gravity to your steps.

Johnny leaned forward when you returned to the room. “You wear that like you’ve done this before,” he said, admiration glinting in his voice. He didn’t touch—none of them did—but their eyes followed every step when you went back to the partition without a word.

Next came dresses with more daring shapes. A wine-red gown with an off-the-shoulder neckline that displayed your collarbones and just a suggestion of cleavage. The sleeves were sheer, and embroidered with twisting flame motifs, and the corseted waist emphasized your shape. The skirt flowed around your legs with each step, lighter, and freer.

When you stepped into view, Johnny gave an exaggerated whistle, and even Simon's eyes briefly widened.

“You’ll be starting fires in the halls dressed like that,” Kyle muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jonathan didn’t speak, but his eyes followed the movement of the sheer fabric, glowing faintly gold with his interest. He smirked faintly.

You raised a brow. “Why would it start a fire?” you questioned, before quickly padding your way back to the seamstresses before anything else happened.

The next balanced dress was pale lilac, soft as moonlight. It had delicate straps and a plunging V-neck lined with crystal beading, though the cut remained tasteful. The back dipped lower, showing smooth skin and the curve of your shoulder blades. It was fitted through the waist and hips before blooming outward with tulle layers that shimmered like starlight.

This time, Simon was the one to break the silence. He stood, walked over, and circled you once—like a wraith in motion.

“Stunning,” he said quietly, the word low, as though he didn’t want to say it aloud and yet couldn’t help himself.

Then came the more daring creations—dresses designed to wield femininity like a blade.

One was black and scarlet, sleeveless with a halter neckline that crisscrossed at the throat before dipping sharply between your breasts. The back was bare, save for silk cords tied like a harness. The skirt split at both thighs, revealing high-heeled boots beneath. The fabric hugged you like it had been poured on.

When you emerged, there was a moment of stunned silence. Kyle sat straighter. Johnny made a sound that could only be described as a choke, covering it with a cough.

Jonathan laughed—low and delighted. “Now that,” he said, “is a dress meant to end men.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and marched back to get the dress off immediately.

The final gown was white and gold, like divinity wrapped in temptation. One shoulder was bared entirely, the sleeve on the other arm long and sheer. The bodice clung tight, held in place by enchantment alone, and the side slit climbed nearly to your hip. The gold embroidery was artful—designed to draw the eye in all the right places. When you turned in it, the fabric rippled like water.

Johnny exhaled slowly. “Right . . . that’s it. I’m gonna start praying now,” he muttered, clasping his hands.

Simon shook his head at him. “You’re a fucking lust demon.”

Kyle rubbed his jaw, visibly trying not to react. “You’re going to make enemies dressed like that.”

Meanwhile, Jonathan leaned forward in his seat, chin resting on his hand.

After the final dress, the seamstresses bowed low once again, silently awaiting approval or dismissal. You stood surrounded by the glow of spelllight, your skin still warm from their measuring ribbons and silks, the scent of exotic fabrics clinging to you like phantom hands. The weight of each dress, each revealing turn, each pair of eyes tracking your every step—it all began to settle heavily on your shoulders.

It was tiring.

Not just physically, though your limbs ached from holding postures, from walking and turning and standing still while enchantments whispered through fabric and thread. But emotionally too—baring different versions of yourself in silk and lace, letting them see how power could drape itself across your body, how beauty could be both armor and invitation.

You exhaled slowly. Your back straightened, but your eyes softened. And for just a moment, your guard slipped. Not fully—never fully—but enough.

Jonathan gave a single nod to the seamstresses. “You’ve done well,” he said, voice like a warm purr wrapped in iron. “You may go.”

With another bow—so low their veils nearly touched the floor—the seamstresses gathered their tools and vanished like shadows dispersing in the morning light.

The room quieted, only the soft crackle of enchantment and the faint hum of magic hanging in the air. You stepped back toward the couches, slow and careful, like the silk of the final dress weighed you down more than it should.

Before you reached the seats, Johnny stood and offered his hand again—gentler this time, like he understood the toll it had taken. “Tired, dove?” he murmured, just low enough for you to hear.

You didn’t answer right away. Your gaze flicked to the others, then returned to him.

But instead of words, you leaned into his shoulder for just a moment. A silent yes. And that was enough.

That was enough to get him, but in this game, you needed more.

"I've never thought getting fitted for dresses would be this tiring," you murmured, voice soft as you let yourself sink into the cushions beside Johnny once more, the silk of your final dress brushing against his arm. "But I . . . like it."

Your eyes followed the retreating backs of the seamstresses as they exited in a swirl of veils and muted footsteps, and your fingers brushed over the embroidery at your hip—still warm from the touch of magic.

Johnny chuckled under his breath, resting his forearm along the back of the couch behind you, close but not pressing. “You wore 'em like a queen that you will be,” he said, casting you a sideways look. “Almost forgot how to breathe when you walked out in that crimson one.”

Simon, still beside you, let out a low hum in agreement. "You did look good," he added, voice quiet but firm—earnest. “All of them, really.”

Across the room, Kyle gave a lopsided smirk from his seat, arms crossed, one leg propped up. “Liked that navy blue one,” he said with a casual shrug. “Fit you like it was made for you—which I guess it was.”

Jonathan exhaled a curl of smoke from his cigar, watching you over the glow of the ember. “You were made for all of them,” he said simply, the words laced with something older, deeper. “Just depends on what kind of queen you choose to be.”

You tilted your head, resting it briefly against the back of the couch, your eyes tracing the shimmer of magic still floating lazily above the ceiling, and you closed your eyes.

In your mind, the word "queen" echoed like a title worn by someone else—someone polished, poised, untouched by scars or flame or shadow. It wasn’t distasteful, but it didn’t fit right either. Not on you.

You sat there surrounded by men whose gazes carried a weight few could survive, dressed in silk tailored to perfection, measured to seduce or command or conceal. And yet, beneath it all, you still felt the whisper of calloused hands, the memory of steel in your grip, the ache of muscle earned from war, not waltzes.

No, you thought quietly to yourself, I don’t want to be a queen.

You didn’t want to sit on a throne. You didn’t want to be waited on hand and foot, to be another puppet of the crown and court. Not to be their bird in a cage. You wanted freedom.

But . . . maybe you could wear the dresses.

Maybe you could be their ghost in silk.

Maybe you could be the myth in the corridors—neither queen nor servant. Not a damsel. Not a jewel. Just you.

The thought made you smile, faint and fleeting.

Johnny nudged your shoulder lightly, breaking the silence. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

You glanced at him, your smile still lingering. “What should I wear for the party?”

I am very sorry for the very delayed update. I was caught up with school and my physical and fucking mental health. Anyways, I hope you guys will still enjoy the story and the chapter. Thank you very much.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

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[puckpocketed]

"I look back at it — it’s pretty nuts. Going from never really having a full season in the NHL, playing here and there, to having 50 games is pretty incredible."

20/04/2024 - Kraken goalie Joey Daccord looks to better days after breakout season. x // x

18/07/2024 - Sports Cinematography Reel 2023-2024 by Ian Portmann

14/03/2021 - Joey Daccord gets his first NHL win - excerpt of Kyle Bukauskas' post-game interview:

We'll get to those final few minutes here in a moment, but first; you come to the rink here tonight thinking you're gonna be watching this one from the bench, and you will leave here with your first career win in the National Hockey League. Tell me what you're thinking.

Uh — I'm gonna get emotional. Yeah, definitely not the way I drew it up, you know, in my head, but... Against the Leafs, y'know, at home — obviously a crazy situation and that's why you always gotta be ready. I just tried to get in the game, and get myself going as fast as possible, and the boys played unbelievable, like, what an effort out of our group.

I'm — I don't even have words right now, honestly. I just — I wanna thank my family for everything they've done for me.

It's, uh — yeah. Pretty special.

[puckdrunklove]

4 Nations Rosters:

(in case anyone else was having as hard a time as i was finding these in an easily accessible place/format)

Canada

Forwards 9. Sam Bennett, Florida Panthers 71. Anthony Cirelli, Tampa Bay Lightning 87. Sidney Crosby, Pittsburgh Penguins 38. Brandon Hagel, Tampa Bay Lightning 24. Seth Jarvis, Carolina Hurricanes 11. Travis Konecny, Philadelphia Flyers 29. Nathan MacKinnon, Colorado Avalanche 63. Brad Marchand, Boston Bruins 16. Mitch Marner, Toronto Maple Leafs 97. Connor McDavid, Edmonton Oilers 21. Brayden Point, Tampa Bay Lightning 13. Sam Reinhart, Florida Panthers 61. Mark Stone, Vegas Golden Knights

Defensemen 89. Drew Doughty, Los Angeles Kings* 8. Cale Makar, Colorado Avalanche 44. Josh Morrissey, Winnipeg Jets 55. Colton Parayko, St. Louis Blues 6. Travis Sanheim, Philadelphia Flyers 27. Shea Theodore, Vegas Golden Knights 5. Devon Toews, Colorado Avalanche

Goalies 50. Jordan Binnington, St. Louis Blues 33. Adin Hill, Vegas Golden Knights 35. Sam Montembeault, Montreal Canadiens

*Replacement for Alex Pietrangelo (Vegas Golden Knights), who withdrew from the tournament Jan. 26 to tend to an ailment and prepare for the remainder of the regular season.

Finland

Forwards 20. Sebastian Aho, Carolina Hurricanes 40. Joel Armia, Montreal Canadiens 16. Aleksander Barkov, Florida Panthers 64. Mikael Granlund, Dallas Stars 56. Erik Haula, New Jersey Devils 24. Roope Hintz, Dallas Stars 84. Kaapo Kakko, Seattle Kraken 92. Patrik Laine, Montreal Canadiens 62. Artturi Lehkonen, Colorado Avalanche 15. Anton Lundell, Florida Panthers 27. Eetu Luostarinen, Florida Panthers 96. Mikko Rantanen, Carolina Hurricanes 86. Teuvo Teravainen, Chicago Blackhawks

Defensemen 10. Henri Jokiharju, Buffalo Sabres* 23. Esa Lindell, Dallas Stars 3. Olli Maatta, Utah Hockey Club 77. Niko Mikkola, Florida Panthers 33. Nikolas Matinpalo, Ottawa Senators* * 18. Urho Vaakanainen, New York Rangers 6. Juuso Valimaki, Utah Hockey Club

Goalies 32. Kevin Lankinen, Vancouver Canucks 1. Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen, Buffalo Sabres 74. Juuse Saros, Nashville Predators

*Vaakanainen and Jokiharju were added as injury replacements for Miro Heiskanen (Dallas Stars) and Jani Hakanpaa (Toronto Maple Leafs).

* *Matinpalo was added as an injury replacement for Rasmus Ristolainen (Philadelphia Flyers).

Sweden

Forwards 33. Viktor Arvidsson, Edmonton Oilers 63. Jesper Bratt, New Jersey Devils 91. Leo Carlsson, Anaheim Ducks 20. Joel Eriksson Ek, Minnesota Wild 9. Filip Forsberg, Nashville Predators 10. Adrian Kempe, Los Angeles Kings 28. Elias Lindholm, Boston Bruins 88. William Nylander, Toronto Maple Leafs 12. Gustav Nyquist, Nashville Predators 40. Elias Pettersson, Vancouver Canucks 23. Lucas Raymond, Detroit Red Wings 67. Rickard Rakell Pittsburgh Penguins* 93. Mika Zibanejad, New York Rangers

Defensemen 4. Rasmus Andersson, Calgary Flames 25. Jonas Brodin, Minnesota Wild 26. Rasmus Dahlin, Buffalo Sabres 14. Mattias Ekholm, Edmonton Oilers 42. Gustav Forsling, Florida Panthers 77. Victor Hedman, Tampa Bay Lightning 65. Erik Karlsson, Pittsburgh Penguins

Goalies

30. Samuel Ersson, Philadelphia Flyers* * 32. Filip Gustavsson, Minnesota Wild 35. Linus Ullmark, Ottawa Senators

*Rakell was added as an injury replacement for William Karlsson (Vegas Golden Knights).

* *Ersson was added as an injury replacement for Jacob Markstrom (New Jersey Devils).

United States

Forwards 12. Matt Boldy, Minnesota Wild 81. Kyle Connor, Winnipeg Jets 9. Jack Eichel, Vegas Golden Knights 59. Jake Guentzel, Tampa Bay Lightning 86. Jack Hughes, New Jersey Devils 20. Chris Kreider, New York Rangers 21. Dylan Larkin, Detroit Red Wings 34. Auston Matthews, Toronto Maple Leafs 10. J.T. Miller, New York Rangers 29. Brock Nelson, New York Islanders 7. Brady Tkachuk, Ottawa Senators 19. Matthew Tkachuk, Florida Panthers 16. Vincent Trocheck, New York Rangers

Defensemen 14. Brock Faber, Minnesota Wild 23. Adam Fox, New York Rangers 15. Noah Hanifin, Vegas Golden Knights 25. Charlie McAvoy, Boston Bruins 85. Jake Sanderson, Ottawa Senators* 74. Jaccob Slavin, Carolina Hurricanes 8. Zach Werenski, Columbus Blue Jackets

Goalies 37. Connor Hellebuyck, Winnipeg Jets 30. Jake Oettinger, Dallas Stars 1. Jeremy Swayman, Boston Bruins

*Added as an injury replacement for Quinn Hughes (Vancouver Canucks).

[alaskan-wallflower]

making up for missed wip wednesdayyyy

(if the aspect of g/t, accidental angst/fearplay or mythical beings makes you uncomfy scroll right by-)

(i’m gonna finish the lien work and do background stuff later but here’s context-also i don’t wanna hear anything abt him being shirtless. it’s a mythical being au, krakens don’t have clothes. plus he’s sixteen here, not a legal adult, yes, but not nine. so pls don’t come at me for this one-)

krakens were always seems as scary beings who would devour ships whole. kyle is highly against this because eating an innocent thing is wrong! buuuuut he’s in the ocean and he’s hungry…what’s he gonna do?? :3

(he’s prolly gonna let it go but not without accidentally terrorizing the poor people on board, but how couldja hate a cutie ike that?? plus his stomach isn’t making it any better-)

[pushing500]

くコ:彡

Cute!!! You know, I adored learning about squids when I was a kid. Giant and Colossal squids especially. I still do, actually. They're so cool!!!! We are so lucky to live on a planet with horrifying oceans filled with great and terrible monsters to learn about and study, but also come up with folk tales and stuff about. I love it.

Anyway, here's my squid-est OC. His name is Minoru. I love him and I always love an excuse to show off my OCs.

All these are done in a couple of journals I have that have prompts at the bottom of each page, but I don't wanna fill the prompts for me (thinking about myself, ugh) so I use randomly selected OCs instead.

The character development from "keeps mostly to himself" to "full-blooded extrovert" in, like, two months is neat.

Bottom left is Mino.

Mino's "true form", plus his baby sister (1/2 sister) Cotovatryn.

Mino's extended family, from left to right-

His 1/2 sister Delaney (she's a normal human scientist who is studying ways to combine magic with science)

His dad, Zher (a shapeshifting spider creature)

His mum, the Kraken (who usually prefers to hang out in his male human form but had a one-night thing with Zher in female form several years ago that resulted in Mino)

His 1/2 sister Cotovatryn (who lives in a mermaid city and prefers to not interact with anyone else)

His 1/2 brother Aten (who is an irritable librarian who uses his shapeshifting spider abilities to climb bookshelves easily)

His 1/2 brother Kyle (who is only just now learning that he has shapeshifting spider powers and is still coming to terms with it)

Bonus Zher loves his kids ❤️

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter Three: Hello My Old Heart —✧

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, mentions of abortion, mentions of sex.

Author's Note: I've started to add my own songs that display the story, since this is also a partly different storyline. Also, side not I love Kenny so much, their friendship is just "Mwah.” And depending on certain chapter some may have a different art heading. For example, this lovely art by @silvell shows the picture Juno has hanging in her car, that is said in the chapter. Enjoy you guys!

—✧

I HATE DRIVING THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING. My old and practically broken truck seems to be even louder when no one else is around. It smelt like leather in here, from my maneuver i'm assuming. It was way too early to be on the road. The polaroid picture Kyle gave me dangled from a loose string tied to my mirror, a small pile of empty Diet-coke cans and Sunny D bottles clang together on the floor of the passenger seat, filling more of the quietness along with the squeaking. When it came to being that my brother could finally drive, our parents were skeptical on what to do. We owned a nice car to give to one of us when we were ready, but the two of us couldn't share anything for shit. After a long 15 round game of rock paper scissors, I had lost the car. But my parents felt bad for me, so my dad gave me his old weed van, usually used for moving weed, that was now used for moving living room sets while I was accompanied by my childhood Garfield plush.

A loud sigh left my chest as I parked the car, taking a full 15 minutes to collect myself before walking to the entrance. I was surprised to see my brother’s girlfriend, and my close friend Wendy Testaburger standing at the door, protesting?

“All babies want to get borned! All babies want to get borned! All babies want to get borned!” She shouted, holding a sign up in the air, one I could tell she drew by the large cute eyes she gave to the baby.

“Hey, Wendy.” I greeted, smiling at the brunette as she lowered her sign.

“Oh, hi, Juno. How are you?” She said sweetly, giving me a kind smile, one that seemed to calm my nerves about being here. Wendy Testaburger was one of the kindest, most welcoming people I have ever met. I was relatively close with her ever since kindergarten, and happy that if my brother dated anyone it was her. She was wonderful, and never failed to make me feel important. And she wasn't judging me for being here of all places, you could tell she wasn't.

“You know, pretty solid. You’re a protestor now?” I asked, causing her to look down at her sign with a chuckle.

“Yeah well, PC principal said we could get extra credit protesting for a cause and well, you know how much I love babies..” she said awkwardly, not expecting to see a classmate during her protest.

“So did you write that paper for Worth's class yet?” I asked, and she nodded her head as she let her sign drop completely at her sides.

“No, not yet. I tried to work on it last night, but I'm having trouble concentrating.” she explained, making me nod.

“Oh, well, I'll give you some of my Adderall.” It's not like I'd be able to use it for a while anyway.

“No, thanks. I'm off pills.”

“That's a wise choice, because I knew this girl, she had this crazy freak-out… Because she took too many meds at once...And she just ripped off her clothes, dove into the fountain at Ridgedale Mall...And was like, "I am a kraken from the sea!"” I explained, chuckling at the memory as Wendy gave me a strange look.

“Juno, that was you…i was there..” she said softly, making me nod at the awkward silence before making my way inside.

“Well, it's good seeing you, Wendy. I’ll probably see you later at the house.” I said as I left, but Wendy didn't let up.

“Your baby probably has a beating heart, you know.” She shouted after me, causing me to sigh as I kept walking. “It can feel pain. And it has fingernails!” I stopped, turning to look at her with furrowed brows.

“Fingernails? Really?” I asked, not really directing it to her either, mostly just surprised at the revelation . I continued my way inside, being greeted by a strange looking girl sitting at the reception desk. Considering the knowledge I had gained from when Stan went goth, I think she was goth as well. She was adorned in black makeup, and as pale as snow, and had silver and black jewelry covering her body. Yuo, definitely a goth. Probably forced into this job by her parents, because she didn't seem to want to be there anymore than I did.

“Welcome to Women Now, where women are trusted friends. Please put your hands where I can see them and surrender any bombs.” She said in a low monotone voice, not once looking up at me from her computer.

“Hey, I'm here for the big show.” I joked, earning a glare from the receptionist.

“Your name, please?”

“Juno Marsh.” I said, handing her my printed paperwork from the previous night. She glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. She thinks I'm using a fake name, like Gene Simmons or Mother Teresa. SHe let her eyebrow fall back to its normal spot, before handing me even more paperwork to sign below my already printed paper.

“I need you to fill these out, and don't skip the hairy details. We need to know about every score and every sore.” She said, before gesturing to the jar full of individually wrapped condoms. Kinda like how hair salons have a jar of lollipops, the abortion clinic had condoms. It really helped with the scenery. “Would you like a free condom? They're boysenberry.”

“No, I'm off sex right now.” I replied, taking my paperwork. I don't think I'll ever be “on” sex again if I'm being honest.

“My boyfriend uses them every time we have intercourse.” she said with a smirk, finally looking up at me again. “They make his junk smell like pie.” I didn't look back at her, simply giving a look as I walked away, handing the paperwork in as I went to sit down.

I think this was the first time in a while I was aware of the fact that I was biting my fingernails. Fingernails. Damn you Wendy Testaburger. My eyes shifted back and forth around the room, the noise of nails scratching against magazines captivating my mind. I looked around at the other women, then at their fingernails, most of them being picked at or anxiously scratching against some kind of surface, and that's when I broke. I bolted for the door, ignoring any looks I may have received, and I ran for Kenny’s house not too far from the clinic. Wendy sent me a proud smile, shouting at me that she was proud of me before I ran out of her view.

—✧

“Dude, what are you doing here? I'm supposed to come get you at 4.” Kenny said, greeting me at the door, confused by my anxious pacing back and forth. I stopped, slapping my hands to my side as I looked up at him.

“I couldn't do it, Ken. It smelled like a dentist's office in there.” i began pacing again when Kenny came fully out of his house. “And there were horrible magazines with water stains. The receptionist tried to get me to take condoms that look like grape suckers… And just babbling away about her frigging boyfriend's pie balls.”

“Sick..” Kenny mumbled, making me roll my eyes as I stopped pacing. My eyes widened as I ran through the events in my head.

“And Wendy Testaburger was there. And she was like, "Oh, hi. Babies have fingernails." Fingernails!” I shouted, shoving my fingernails in his face, causing Kenny to push my hands down gently, pulling his hood off to address the seriousness of my outburst.

“That's gruesome. Do you think the baby can scratch your vag on the way out...?” Kenny teased, making scratching motions as I groaned, running my hands down my face. I take a moment to collect myself, before making direct eye contact with him.

“I'm staying pregnant, Kenny.” I grumbled, making Kenny look around, coming up to me and holding his hands over my mouth dramatically.

“Dude. You gotta keep your voice down, okay? My mom is inside. She doesn't know that we're sexually active.” He said anxiously, causing me to raise an eyebrow at him. Now since he's my best friend I can say this, but Kenny Mccormick is the biggest horndog on planet earth. He was getting blowjobs before I even knew what those were. I love him to death, he's my other half and all, but there was no way his mom didn't know she gave birth to a monster. He sighed at my questioning look.

“Okay, maybe she definitely knows I'm sexually active, but if she hears you she’s gonna wanna talk to me about it and I can't deal with that shit dude.” He whined, grabbing my arms and pulling me to follow him to the park nearby, to our spot.

“What does that even mean? I've been thinking. I was thinking I could have this baby and give it to someone that totally needs it. Like a woman with a bum ovary, or a couple nice lesbos. Maybe Big Gay Al and Mr Slave want a baby, they seem like they'd love a nice jewish redheaded child.” I said, and he gave me a look, his face scrunched up with disgust at the thought of me being pregnant.

“But then you're gonna get huge, and your chest is gonna milktate...And you're gonna have to, tell people that you're pregnant. And you won't be able to smoke for a while.” He explained, and I found it hard to argue, but still I tried.

“Maybe they'll canonize me for being so selfless.”

“Or maybe they'll, like, totally shit and be really, really mad...And not let you graduate or go to the Springs for spring break.” Somehow I had ended up hoisted on Kenny's back, getting a piggyback from the boy all the way to the park. I honestly don't know how he held my weight up sometimes, but Piggyback rides were just something we did.

“I was gonna go to the Rockies’s with Kyle anyway.” I said nonchalantly, not seeing the smirk that formed on Kenny’s lips at my words.

“You should look at adoption ads. I see them all the time in the PennySaver.” He offered, making me laugh slightly.

“They still make a newspaper?” He shook me, trying to get me to fall off his back before I giggled loudly, pulling myself back up.

“Shut up, you know I can't afford tv news.”

“They really have ads for parents?” I asked, and he nodded, detouring to grab a newspaper from the park entrance.

“Yeah. "Desperately Seeking Spawn." Right next to, terriers and iguanas and used fitness equipment and stuff. It's totally legit.” He took a newspaper, and carried us to our park bench, carefully dropping me onto it.

Somehow, after hours spent reading the newspaper, Kenny and I had ended up grabbing slushies from the convenient stand, exactly what we needed in the 20 degree Colorado weather. My legs were over his lap as we laid messily flipping through the news.

"Wholesome, spiritually wealthy couple have found true love with each other." All that's missing is your bastard.” Kenny read out loud, nudging me when he looked over at me laying my head back, not paying attention.

“I want a parakeet.” I mumbled, the sunglasses I was wearing being pulled from my face as Kenny tried to get my attention.

“You're totally not even listening to me.”

“No, I heard you. I don't wanna give the baby to a family...That describes themselves as wholesome.” I explained, taking a long swig from my slushie as Kenny sighed with defeat.

“Why?”

“I just want something a little edgier.” I explained, sitting up in my spot. Kenny kept scanning the newspaper.

“What did you have in mind exactly?”

“I was thinking more like a graphic designer, mid-thirties… With a cool Asian girlfriend who dresses awesome and rocks out on the bass” I explained, turning to see Kenny giving me a look that said ‘are you serious right now.’ I smiled at him, my now blue lips widening. “But I don't wanna be too particular.”

“Okay. How about this? "Educated, successful couple seeking infant...To join our family of five. You will be compensated. Help us complete the circle of love." That sounds great.” He seemed to hesitate on saying they were ‘great,’ and I can see why.

“They sound like a frigging cult. They already have three kids. They're just greedy little bitches.” I groaned, feeling the defeat of this search, wondering why I didn't just go to Unplanned parenthood and drop off my fetus for them to grow themselves.

“Juno, how about this one?” Kenny shoved my arm, a sense of excitement as he handed me the newspaper. They were Mark and Vanessa Loring...And they were beautiful even in black and white.

—✧

“Where the fuck have you been!?” Stan shouted, not allowing me a moment of peace. I swear the second the front door opened he was screaming. I do love my brother, he was quite literally me with a penis, but that didn't change the fact that I really hated him sometimes. The fact that our parents were out to dinner right now didn't help the volume of Stan’s screaming.

“Out.” I grumbled, placing my keys in the key holder before trying to walk away. I needed a drink, damn you alcohol blocking fetus.

“Right, of course. You were “out.”” Stan scoffed, making me roll my eyes as I turned to face him.

“What do you want, Stan?” I asked coldly, and he just sighed, taking a second to look at me. Then his eyes trailed down, and he looked at my stomach. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…he knew. How the fuck did he know. God damn my life.

“I know okay? I saw the fucking papers on your bed.” He said, throwing the crumbled up abortion document at me. I wanted to cry, I could feel angry tears pricking at my eyes, and a burning bile forming on the back of my throat.

“You had no right, that was my fucking privacy! You just can’t mind your own damn business!” I shouted, pointing a shaky finger at him, trying desperately to hold back my tears.

“You got an abortion Juno! An abortion! Without telling anyone, do you understand how fucking insane that is!” He shouted back, and I sighed, trying to calm myself and Stan.

“Yes, I do and just listen to me okay I think that..” he interrupted.

“What the hell were you thinking!? What if mom found that paper, what if dad did!?” He continued shouting, his face turning a deep crimson as the oxygen was cut off due to all his screaming.

“I know I know, just listen to me…” He interrupted again.

“That’s so dangerous Juno, what if something happened, regardless of the fact you’re fucking pregnant, what if you got hurt?” He continued rambling, about to keep talking before I grabbed the napkin holder off the table, chucking it at him angrily. He ducked, letting the holder hit the wall as I began speaking.

“I didn’t get an abortion okay! Because your dumb girlfriend wouldn’t shut up about how my fetus has fingernails. Fingernails!” I shouted back at him, holding my hands out, before sighed and held a hand over my chest. “I'm sorry, you know I love Wendy I just, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Everything seemed to dawn on me at that moment. He still didn't know it was Kyle’s. He didn't know that a part of his best friend was growing inside of me right now, and he was already this angry. And this isn't even the worst of it all. I still had parents to tell, and classmates to find out, and a whole life that I used to have that was now gone. I couldn't help but feel my chest closing in.

“You are fucking insane you know that?” Stan hissed, and I simply rolled my eyes, holding a hand on my chest to keep back my panicked tears.

“Oh please, you’re a seventeen year old alcoholic, but I’m the crazy one.” I laughed bitterly, hunching over on the table as I heard Stan huff behind me.

“You’re seventeen too Juno, you’re fucking seventeen, and you’re pregnant! What are you even gonna do? This is beyond irresponsible, you’re never getting your life back after this!”

“God stan I know okay! I fucking know!” I shouted back, Stan staring back at me with empty eyes. “And, you yelling at me isn’t making it any fucking easier. I’m so scared shitless and I just, I need my brother. I need..” My breathing began picking up, as I knelt down to the ground, closing in on myself. It was like something clicked in Stan's mind, that I was still his sister. His baby sister, who was losing her breath on the ground.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry.” He said softly, kneeling down and pulling me into his chest. “I’m sorry. It’s okay Junebug, I’m right here.” he reassured, holding me close as I sobbed into his chest. I pulled away, sighing as I wiped my tears.

“I-i have a whole plan. Kenny and I found this couple, in the Penny saver. I’m gonna go and meet them, and hopefully give them the baby once it’s born. I just, I need your help telling mom and dad.” Stan nodded, pulling me back into his chest, his heart racing just as fast as mine.

“Of course Junebug, I’ll be there.”

[madisonadamssss]

2025 NHL Trades (Since March 1st)

This is just for the last week. All information was found on the "2024-25 NHL trade deadline live tracker" article on ESPN! The website can be found at the end of this article.

Avalanche trades with Rangers:

Avalanche gets: Ryan Lindgren (D), Jimmy Vesey (LW), rights to prospect to prospect Hank Kempf. Rangers get: Calvin de Haan (D), Juuso Parssinen (C), 2025 second-round pick, 2025 fourth-round pick

Wilds trades with Predators:

Wilds get: Gustav Myquist (RW) Predators get: 2026 second-round pick

Panthers trades with Blackhawks:

Panthers get: Seth Jones (D), 2026 fourth-round pick Blackhawks get: Spencer Knight (G), conditional 2026 first-round pick

Oilers trades with Bruins and Devils:

Oilers get: Trent Frederic (F), Max Jones (F), rights to prospect Petr Hauser Bruins get: Max Wanner (D), 2025 second-round pick, 2026 fourth-round pick Devils get: Rights to prospect Shane Lachance

Panthers trades with Sharks:

Panthers get: Vitek Vanecek (G) Sharks get: Patrick Giles (F)

Lightnings trades with Kraken and Red Wings:

Lightnings gets: Yanni Gourde (C), Oliver Bjorkstrand (RW), Kyle Aucoin (D), 2026 fifth-round pick, retain 50% of Gourde's salary Kraken gets: Michael Eyssimont (C), 2025 second-round pick (TOR), 2026 first-round pick, 2027 first-round pick Red Wings get: Condition 2025 fourth-round pick (TB or EDM), retain 25% of Gourde's salary.

Sharks trade with Penguins:

Sharks get: Vincent Desharnais (D) Penguins get: 2028 fifth-round pick

Predators trade with Penguins:

Predators get: Micheal Bunting (LW), 2026 fourth-round pick Penguins get: Tommy Novak (C), Luck Schenn (D)

Devils trade with Ducks:

Devils get: Brian Dumoulin (D) Ducks get: Herman Traff (LW), 2025 second-round pick (EDM or WPG), retain 50% of Dumoulin's salary.

Golden Knights trade with Ranger:

Golden Knights get: Reilly Smith (RW), retain 50% of Smiths salary Rangers get: Brendan Brisson (F), 2025 third-round pick (SJ)

Panthers trade with Jets:

Panthers get: Kaapo Kahkonen (G) Jets get: Chris Driedger

Rangers trade with Canucks:

Rangers get: Carson Soucy (D) Canucks get: 2025 third-round pick (SJ)

Wilds trade with Bruins:

Wilds get: Justin Brazeau (RW) Bruins get: Jakub Lauko (C), Marat Khusnutdinov (F), 2026 sixth-round pick

Avalanche trade with Islanders:

Avalanche get: Brock Nelson (C), William Dufour (F) Islanders get: Calum Ritchie (F), Oliver Kylington (D)

Ducks trade with Islanders:

Ducks get: Oliver Kylington (D) Islanders get: Future considerations

Oilers trade with Sharks:

Oilers get: Jake Walman (D) Sharks get: Carl Berglund (F), conditional 2026 first-round pick

Capitals trade with Penguins:

Capitals get: Anthony Beauvillier (F) Penguins get: 2025 second-round pick

Kings trade with Flyers:

Kings get: Andrei Kuzmenko (F), 2025 seventh-round pick Flyers get: 2027 third-round pick

Senators trade with Sabres:

Senators get: Dylan Cozen (C), Dennis Gilbert (D), 2026 second-round pick Sabres get: Josh Norris (C), Jacob Bernard-Docker (D)

Jets trade with Penguins:

Jets get: Luke Schenn (D) Penguins get: 2026 second-round pick, 2027 fourth-round pick

Jets trade with Kraken:

Jets get: Brandon Tanev (F) Kraken get: 2027 second-round pick

Maple Leafs trade with Flyers:

Maple Leafs get: Scott Laughton (C), fourth-round pick, sixth-round pick Flyers get: Nikita Grebenkin (RW), conditional 2027 first-round pick, retains 50% of Laughton's salary

Stars trade with Hurricanes:

Stars get: Mikko Rantanen (RW) Hurricanes get: Logan Stankoven (F), two first-round picks (2026, 2027), two third-round pick (2026, 2027)

Avalanche trade with Bruins:

Avalanche get: Charlie Coyle (C), 2026 fifth0round pick Bruins get: Casey Mittelstadt (C), Will Zeller (LW), 2025 second-round pick

Red Wings trade with Blackhawks:

Red Wings get: Petr Mrazek (G), Craig Smith (F) Blackhawks get: Joe Veleno (F)

Blue Jackets trade with Sharks:

Blue Jackets get: Luck Kunin (F) Sharks get: 2025 fourth-round pick

Devils trade with Penguins:

Devils get: Cody Glass (F) Penguins get: Third-round pick

Maple Leafs trade with Bruins and Penguins:

Maple Leafs get: Brandon Carlo (D), furture considerations from the penguins Bruins get: Fraser Minten (C), first-round pick Penguins get: Conor Timmins (D), Connor Dewar (F)

Panthers trade with Bruins:

Panthers get: Brad Marchand (LW) Bruins get: Conditional 2027 second-round pick

Senators trade with Sharks:

Senators get: Fabian Zetterlund (F), Tristen Robins (C), fourth-round pick Sharks get: Zack Ostapchuk (F), Noah Gregor (LW), 2025 second-round pick

Blackhawks trade with Utah Hockey Club:

Blackhawks get: Victor Soderstrom (D), Aku Raty (RW), Shea Weber's (D) contract Utah Hockey Club get: 2026 sixth-round pick

Rangers trade with Sabres:

Rangers get: Nicolas Aube-Kubel (F) Sabres get: Erik Brannstrom (D)

Avalanche trade with Flyers:

Avalanche get: Erik Johnson (D) Flyers get: Givani Smith (F)

Devils trade with Islanders:

Devils get: Dennis Cholowski (D) Islanders get: Adam Backman (F)

[tapedsleeves]

2023 hrpf fic roundup

VGK / 6167 (mark stone / max pacioretty):

won't run away (but I'll have to take it slow) - the 6167 max thinks mark might be ace fic (rated T) passes too quick to see me - max has a migraine 5x drabble I want strings attached (prequel to our secret's worth its weight in gold published in 2022) - wherein mark buys the ring he hides from max in secret's worth i'd rather drown - after max is traded, he invites his family to visit Mark's house for christmas. but i can't see behind the sun - plane flirting triple drabble tripped and fell on you - max and mark met & hooked up as teenagers wear you like a stitch - mark has temporary amnesia or a gentle kiss - a vague pirate au double drabble

VGK / 981 (Jack Eichel / Jonathan Marchessault):

a wall to bring us closer - jonathan sees the photo of the way jack is looking at him later & decides to do something about it. from a shudder to a shockwave - jack falls in love with vegas, hockey, and jonathan marchessault you don't need to wonder, you're doing fine - Jack gets an idea for the post game award no reason to put up a fight - jack and marchy at stevie's wedding just what i needed - jack makes a kissing bet to get Marchy the Conn Smythe your whole life is a head (I hope we get to see it) - marchy has a crisis about being older than jack

Misc:

VGK: Chandler Stephenson / Shane Hnidy / Neon in the nighttime - parade hookups :)

VGK: Nic Roy / Zach Whitecloud / In all of my wildest dreams (they just ended with you and me) - bubble musing triple drabble

VGK: Nic Roy / Zach Whitecloud / i'll set you up against the stars - Nic wears lingerie

Canes: andrei svechnikov / jordan martinook / teach me to breathe (break me in half) - babygirl andrei :)

NJD: Nico Hischier / Jack Hughes / it's our anthem - first kiss double drabble

Kraken: Will Borgen / Carson Soucy / well and remix of and well from Will's POV

Kraken: Will Borgen / Carson Soucy / go hunt for honey - carson shares chocolate with will

Jets/VGK: Connor Hellebuyck/Laurent Brossoit / Message Pending / connor attempts to invite laurent to his house for a visit.

Jets/VGK: Connor Hellebuyck/Laurent Brossoit / but my body's in the lead - smut set after the Jets lose in round one of the 23 scp

Panthers: Matthew Tkachuk / Aleksander Barkov / Leon Draisaitl / fracture me - quick and dirty porn to make sure that dom!sasha is taking care of Matthew properly.

Panthers: Matthew Tkachuk / Aleksander Barkov / Leon Draisaitl / full time problem - leon calls sasha to set up matthew

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / ache it 'til you make it - sheldon gets stuck in playoff time loops

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / checking it twice - sheldon makes sure to write kissing on Kyle's to do list for tomorrow.

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / sand inside that hourglass (WIP) - Sheldon's wife used to peg him, Kyle offers to scratch the itch.

Avs: Nathan Mackinnon / Jonathan Drouin / just here to become the best yet (i'm just here for the psych assessment) - Jo finds a way to make Nate feel better after their back to back shut out losses

Oilers / VGK: Jack Eichel / Connor McDavid / or stone unturned - 5 times connor touched jack eichel

[doodling-doodle]

An Ice Touch (Ch.2)

They weren't expecting the storm. They didn't know it would happen and they weren't prepared.

He wanted to warn his new friend. He had to hide that friend too…

He wanted to see him again After the storm…

Kyle sat by the dock, not sure if Alex would be there or not, or how to get him up there

“Alex…?” He hesitantly called out

He saw the water bubbling, and he was a little shocked before Alex shot up, looking at him.

“Kyle?” Alex asked, “What happened? Is your house okay?”

“Yeah… The lighthouse was damaged but that was it…” Kyle replied, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Its kinda easy to just hide under a sunken ship when a storm comes around.”

Kyle smiled softly, “I’m glad your alright… You did save my life.”

“I’m glad your okay. I’m sorry about the lighthouse.”

“We’re getting it fixed up, its what I’ve been doing the past few days… why I wasn’t here.”

“I get it. I’m glad that its taken care of.”

Kyle smiled, “I… I’m a little shocked… I’ve never met a kraken before, but… Your nothing like what they said.”

Alex shrugged, “Krakens are seen as deadly. Folklore made it that way… There are some that are ruthless, but most of us are only deadly when we need to be.” he said

Kyle nodded, “I understand now… what about Sirens?”

“Same thing. Humans don’t know, and I get that. I don’t hold it against them.”

“Your not dangerous.” Kyle said stepping closer, “You saved me… How could you be dangerous?”

“Not to you.” Alex said, “Never to you.”

Kyle smiled softly, “Thank you, Alex… I… I should head back, my parents are probably looking for me.” he said, and Alex smiled. 

“Will you meet me back here?” He asked.

“Of course. As soon as I can.” 

Alex nodded, “Thank you, Kyle… See you soon.” He said as he got back in the water, and Kyle sighed, walking back to the still damaged light house. The tower had been put back up but it needed to be reinforced.

They could make it work. It would be even better then it was before. The whole village was helping and they were actually getting them food while they were at it, as a lot of theirs was stored in the tower. They were lucky to be so loved. He wondered if they knew about his fathers stories. Or if they knew how he became their son. They all knew he was a magic user. He knew his fathers stories… Runaway prince and a family on the run from Pirates that were killed.

But it was okay now. They were just a happy family and that was all that mattered.

”Hey, Kyle!” He heard from behind him, and he turned to see Rodolfo walking up to him, smiling.

“What’s up?” He asked as he came up to him

“I just quickly made this, it’s probably not what you had, but, I felt bad that you lost your sketchbook.” He said, talking out a hand-binded book and handing it to him.

“Oh… Rudy, you-”

“Don’t. You need this.” Rudy said, smiling, “Just enjoy it.”

He nodded softly, smiling, “Thank you… I really appreciate it…” He said, “Odd question…”

“Of course.”

“Your… a shifter, right?”

“Yep!”

“Have you seen… krakens up close?”

Rodolfo shrugged, “A few times.”

“Do you think their… as dangerous as people say?”

Rodoldo chuckled, “I’ll let you into a little secret… They really aren’t dangerous, unless needed. Humans have skewed them into being ruthless creatures without hearts. But I was saved by one from hunters not too long ago.”

He was saved too… so it wasn’t just Alex that was so kind.

“If you want general advice… proceed with caution if you happen to cross paths with one” Rodolfo said, patting his shoulder, “you should probably head back home. Your dad's are looking for you.”

He nodded, “thanks, Rudy.” He said before running off.

“There you are, Kyle.” His dad said when he walked in, and his pops smiled at him.

“Hey…”

“Where have you been?” His pops asked.

“Went to see Rudy. He gave me a new sketch book!”

“Oh, that's nice, son” his dad said, smiling, “why don't you go clean up? Dinners almost ready.”

“Alright.” He went to go get changed, and he looked look his window, seeing Alex's tentacles in the water, swimming further out and out of sight.

He knew he'd come back.

And he smiled at that.

He went back out to the kitchen to see his plate ready, and he smiled.

“Thanks, dad…” He said as he sat down and started to eat, “how's the lighthouse?”

“It's pretty much done.” His pops said, “I'm going to work on it one more time before sunset, and then I think it's good.” 

He smiled, nodding softly, “Good… that's good…” He said.

“It's going to go back to normal. Don't worry.” His dad said, “I have a feeling you're heading back out to town after dinner?” 

“Yeah.”

“Be safe” his pops said, smiling before walking out.

“You be safe too, Phil…” his dad said, sighing softly and smiling

Kyle was barely thinking about the lighthouse right now though. He was wondering about Alex…

He wondered how Alex would react to him being a magic user… He knew that magic was often used to hurt Kraken’s. He didn’t want Alex to think that he was like them…

But, if Alex would never hurt him, he knew Kyle would never hurt him.

He was already thinking about things He and Alex might be able to do…

He did always want to be able to go out to that island in the distance.

…

Who was he kidding, he was getting ahead of himself, as usual 

[gazs-blue-hat]

Seeing isn't Everything I (D&D AU) Gaz X F!Reader (Medusa)

AN: Inspired by @halcyone-of-the-sea and their FANTASTIC mermaid au. This one is for you love. This whole thing takes place in the Forgotten Realms (Thanks BG3). You can find the stat block for the creature here

Summary: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a legendary monster hunter. He's brought down dragons and krakens alike. His services have been requested for a particularly dangerous job, perhaps the most dangerous one he has gone on yet. Hunting a Gorgon.

Word Count: 2,574

TW: Mentions of Death, Turning to Stone, fairy deals, (LMK if I missed any)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO ANYBODY HERE OR ON ANOTHER SITE TO REPOST, COPY, TRANSLATE OR FEED MY WORK TO AN A.I OF ANY KIND.

Being a member of the Shattered Hand was an honor, it truly was! But Kyle "Gaz" Garrick was getting really tired of bandaging burns and stitching up wyvern bites. He had been a member of the illustrious monster slaying guild for ten years now and he had quickly risen up the ranks, making a name for himself as one of the best monster hunters out there.

People far and wide came to bring contracts to his desk in the illustrious guild hall. It had been four weeks since he had seen a decent contract cross the dragon leather desk in his office. All he had received were a couple of contracts for various beasts and large creatures. The most interesting one had been a doppelganger but one of his collogues had taken that contract before he could.

'Why does Ghost get all the interesting ones' He grumbled to himself

Kyle looked at his armor that stood on the stand that hugged the corner of the room. It had been too long since he had sinched the leather straps around his forearms and felt the comfortable weight of his chainmail hugging his form. His sword hung above the door and he couldn't help but frown at the incredible shine on the silver surface. Swords were meant to be used! Not displayed. His sword should be covered in the blood of monsters that hurt the innocent, not hanging above his door.

He groaned and lay his head atop his crossed forearms. The business day was almost closing and there had been nothing promising. Some farmers had come to him asking to take care of a Gnoll den, but he had transferred them to a young hunter who needed a relatively easy job. One of the townspeople swore up and down he had been cursed by a hag, but Kyle had sent him to the local cleric instead.

He was just about to stomp downstairs and order some ale before he heard a soft knock at his door. He sat his head up and fixed his posture.

"Enter!" he called as he straightened his tunic. The large oak door creaked open and a rather finely dressed gentleman entered the room. He wore a nice hat made of expensive leather and a suit made from brilliant cloth that only came from the silk of a dryder. This man had money and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it

"Hello, I'm looking for a master 'Gaz'?" he said in a regal tone. Kyle examined this man as he walked into his office. He instantly knew he didn't like him. Kyle had always prided himself on his ability to read other people and this man absolutely reeked of self-importance.

"Yes, that's me. Do have a seat, sir." Kyle said while gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. usually, he would stand and pull it out for whoever was talking to him, but something about this man put him off.

The man paused, waiting for him to pull the chair out, and frowned when he didn't. The man took his seat and removed his hat, placing it on his lap.

"I've been told you're the best hunter around." He started. Kyle had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"One of them, yes. What can I do for you, mister..."

"Szordrin. Master, Szordrin." The man corrected. Gaz felt his lip start to curl but he stopped himself. Unlike Ghost, he didn't wear a mask to conceal his face. This man was making Kyle consider getting one, just for the sake of not having to hide his facial expressions.

"Yes, master Szordin. What can I do for you?" he asked politely. The man nodded, pleased with the 'change' in attitude from Gaz.

"I have a...problem that I believe meets your specific skill set." He began, sliding a scrolled piece of paper onto the desk. The runes on the dusk hummed to life as they scanned the paper for magic.

The contract was just that, a contract. Since the founder and proprietor of the Shattered Hand mercenary guild was a powerful Eladrin, all of the contracts that were taken up by the guild were magical in nature. The contracts were binding and it was incredibly hard to get out of one without appealing to the guild master himself.

Dark purple and green runes hovered over the paper before settling back down and depicting the target. The runes were a scrying spell, locked onto the target's soul. It helped the hunters find their quarry without too much fuss. The monster didn't quite look like a monster at first. It looked like a young woman.

She was sitting in a pool of water, trying to catch little froglets that had strayed too far from the main water source.

"Master Szordrin, I am sure you're well aware of the rules this guild has. We do not hunt humanoid creatures unless they have actively caused harm. We hunt beasts, devils, fey, and fiends. Not..." his sentence was cut off when the woman turned and her face was visible.

Her eyes were shielded by a silky black fabric and, her hair was made up of coiling, writhing snakes. She was also absolutely gorgeous. She smiled softly as she pressed her nose against a froglet's back, helping it to jump into the water once more. 

'A medusa that covers their face? Never seen one of those before.' he thought as he looked on at the page.

"You see my predicament now, master hunter," Szordrin said, gesturing to the woman on the piece of paper. Gaz sat back and nodded, intrigued at the prospect of one of the most vain creatures in the realms hiding their face.

"Yes, I do. How many people has she turned to stone?" he asked, setting a magical quill on the contract to write the terms of his mission. Szordrin shuffled a bit, uncomfortable.

"None yet, but she will. Trust me, she will." He assured. Gaz felt a tingle in his spine. There was more that this man wasn't telling him.

"Alright...that doesn't quite fit in with the terms of engagement but I'm sure Master Price has spoken to you about this?" Kyle asked. Szordrin nodded, holding his hat tightly now.

"Yes, Your guild master has made things quite clear. You are not to attack unless provoked or have reason to suspect she may be a danger. I am aware. I don't want her dead exactly, just...relocated." The man amended. Gaz felt better after this statement.

Relocation, he could do.

"Alright, you want this creature relocated to..." Gaz said, waiting for the man to continue before writing it down.

"Just, far away from me and my estate. She's currently outside Wheetleton, where I reside. I want her as far as Mortaris or perhaps even further." The man said, pointing at areas on the world map. Gaz frowned. That was at least a six-week journey from Wheetleton to Mortaris.

"Alright, relocated to Mortaris unless deemed an active threat," Gaz stated, watching as the magical quill scrawled the words in sylvan. All of the contracts of the Shattered Hand were written in the fey language.

"I will pay half up front and once the deed is done, the rest," Szordrin said while placing a hefty bag of gold on Gaz's desk.

"2,000 gold pieces now and another 3,000 when the job is done." Szordrin continued. Gaz nodded, this was an acceptable sum.

"Alright, I'll take the job." He said while pricking his thumb with a pin and placing his fingerprint on the line. The blood acted as ink and seeped into the paper, sealing his part of the contract. He extended his hand for Szordrin's.

"You know the rules. You must sign the contract in blood for the deal to be struck." Kyle said, frustration starting to leak into his words. He wanted to get on the road and find this creature for himself!

Szordrin shakily extended his hand for Kyle to prick. As Kyle lifted the pin he noticed a faint red scar going across the man's palm. Curious

Without delay, he pricked Szordrin's thumb and pressed the print onto the contract. The paper sizzled and cracked with arcane energy as it was infused with magic. Kyle felt a familiar dull weight rest in his chest. The weight of a bargain struck. He smiled to himself, relishing in the idea of a hunt again.

Once the deal was made, Szordrin scampered out of Kyle's office and back down to the tavern below. Kyle shrugged and looked over the contract again. He could dismiss it and summon it at will, now that he was bound to it. The woman's face was still on the paper, smiling gently as she held a lily pad. Her blindfold was off now as she looked at the plant, opening the petals with a delicate finger.

"The curse of beauty. Poor thing, let us hope you don't turn anybody to stone until I get to you yeah?" He mumbled. As if she could hear him, she looked in the direction of the scrying spell. Her eyes were a bright golden color with no pupil or iris. Just a brilliant golden hue that shone in the darkness. Kyle felt another shiver run up his spine and a secondary weight rest on his shoulders.

This weight felt different, more...personal than the contract had been. He had only heard rumors of this feeling. The weight of fate's hands on one's shoulders.

He dismissed the contract and made his way to his armor and sword. He decided that he would leave right away, making the two-day journey to Wheetleton as quickly as he could. If he had any hopes of saving this creature, he had to get there quickly and relocate it to a place where it wouldn't hurt anybody.

As he strapped on his armor, he couldn't help but smile widely. He was on the hunt again, where he belonged.

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The two-day ride to Wheetleton was boring, to say the least. He had gathered his supplies and left that very night, riding through the dawn and only stopping to eat and relieve his horse for a while. Once he got to the city, he asked around about the creature.

The townspeople didn't have much to tell them, only that they thought the beast had stolen the local Lord's daughter one night. It wasn't until this third day in town that he got a solid lead.

"Goblins! Goblins up the mountain pass!" The traveler had cried. Gaz knew they weren't part of his contract but he wasted to keep this area safe. He trekked up the mountain pass, the climb being somewhat difficult in his armor. Once night fell, he could see firelight illuminating the area inside the mouth of a cave. The weight from the contract in his chest pulsed faintly. His quarry was close.

"We've had nothing but pork for five stinking weeks! When are we going to eat something good?" A harsh voice grumbled from the fire. There was a good number of goblins sitting around the bonfire, about fifteen or so. A large goblin wearing a makeshift crown sat on a log, above the fire, holding a large silver candlestick.

"You'll eat whenever something good comes along! Now quit your yapping! I think I 'eard something." The goblin 'king' said while gesturing over in Gaz's direction. Gaz readied his bow, stringing it as quietly as he could and knocking an arrow. A group of four goblins came over to look but they didn't spot him.

The goblin king mumbled something under his breath as his goons came back to the fire, grumbling about the fact that they were hungry. Gaz was about to let an arrow fly before a soft voice called to the goblins in the dark.

"Hello? Is someone out there?" A feminine voice called from deep within the cave.

"Wha'? Who said that?" The goblin king shouted, hopping off his log throne and looking deeper into the cave. Gaz felt the magic of the contract pull and thump in his chest. His quarry, she was right there. he could see her faintly glowing eyes behind the blindfold she wore. The two golden dots amid a sea of black silk.

"It was...was me. I suggest you all leave before someone comes up here." She warned. She wore a simple dress, a nightgown really. It looked dirtied a bit but was well taken care of. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her feet were bare.

Gaz couldn't help but gasp a bit. He had seen pictures and paintings of angels and celestial beings that roamed the upper planes but this creature was absolutely stunning.

At his intake of breath, one of the goblins loosed an arrow that struck him in the arm. Luckily his armor had taken most of the damage but since it hadn't been used in a while, the rings were loose and allowed some give. Kyle felt the tip of the arrow pierce his shoulder and he grunted in pain.

"Oi! You there! In the shadows!" The goblin king shouted, directing his force to attack. Kyle drew his bow up but struggled to pull the string back. He cursed his luck. The goblins had dipped the arrows in a paralytic!

He drew his short sword instead and began his attack on the goblins. He defended himself well, only getting a few knicks and scratches here and there. As he was facing off the last goblin, he heard a sharp noise behind him. A crossbow being bolted.

"Shield your eyes!" The woman called as she removed her blindfold. Piercing golden light filled the area and Kyle slammed his eyes shut as fast as he could, feeling the coldness of her magic wash over him. The goblin he was fighting, and the one that had loaded the crossbow clunked to the ground, made completely of stone.

Kyle panted and knelt on the ground, feeling the poison slowly start to spread. He was going to pass out, that much was certain, but he never would have guessed what happened next.

Instead of a blade piercing his heart, or a sharp prick of fangs on his neck, he felt cool hands on his shoulders.

"Oh my Gods, they got you pretty good. Let me just..." It was the woman, the Medusa he had been sent to kill. She hoisted him up as best she could, dragging him deeper into the mouth of the cave. he heard the sound of a running waterfall as well as the chirps of young frogs.

"Leave him be! Can't you see he's hurt!" The woman scolded. The frogs went silent and Kyle felt her taking off his armor. He didn't dare open his eyes and he physically couldn't move to resist. Was this how he died? Because of a stupid goblin arrow leaving him vulnerable?

"Don't worry. The water will heal you right up." The woman assured. Kyle felt water beginning to surround him, and instead of feeling the fear of drowning, he felt nothing but peace. The water was shockingly warm and he felt like he could breathe easier.

"Sleep now, I'll make sure you stay right here."

The woman's voice was distant now as Kyle felt his consciousness begin to fade. he was tired, so he should sleep. He was safe here, no reason to fear.

No reason at all.

taglist: @plumteaa-remus

(here's what a DnD medusa usually looks like)