#she had to stay indoors with me out of fear she would not have the coding to go to sleep once in her chrysalis

[noahthegrailkeeper]

I found a caterpillar at the grocerystore I work at, about a month ago.

[entitled-fangirl]

When it matters most.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!wife!reader

Summary: Aemond goes to Winterfell to recruit his sister and her dragon for the Greens. Cregan will not allow that.

A/n: based on an ask!

Masterlist

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"DRAGON!"

Y/n and Cregan make eye contact, immediately standing from their seats at the table. 

Y/n runs to the window, while Cregan makes quick work of tying his cloak and moving to the door. 

Vhagar. 

She rushes after her husband, not caring for the proper clothing to shield the cold. 

She makes quick work of falling in step with him, grabbing his arm. 

Cregan's jaw clenched, a fear evident in his eyes. "Stay indoors."

"No."

Cregan's eyes close and he stops walking. "I said. Stay. Here."

"It is my brother. I will not let you go alone."

He takes a long and steady breath as he turns to her. His hands cup her face, "My beautiful wife, I do not care if it is our fiercest enemy or our greatest ally, you will stay indoors until I deem it safe for you."

A defeated look came to her eyes as Cregan released her. He gave her a final look before continuing on his path.

She watched him go, her gut wrenching with each step that he took.

Cregan had declared the North an ally of the Blacks only two moons ago. It made no sense for Aemond to suddenly appear in enemy territory.

She moved back to the dining hall, watching with bated breath from the window. Though she could see nothing now, she hoped that perhaps she'd gain a glimpse of what was to happen.

Soon, a servant entered the room, "Princess, Prince Aemond is within the castle walls."

Her blood ran cold. She turned her head to the servant. "In… Indoors?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Where?"

"I do not know." "And Cregan?"

"I am unsure."

She rested a hand on her forehead. "Very well, thank you."

The servant left, shutting the large doors behind her. 

If something had happened to the Queen, Jace would have written to her. She was sure of it. Someone would have.

But to ride straight to Winterfell was bold of Aemond regardless.

Riding into any enemy territory was bold. 

"Where is she?" Aemond's voice echoed down the corridor. 

A shudder ran down her spine at the sound of him so near. 

She abandoned the window, moving to the door. 

Does she dare try to leave? Or would that place her right into his hands?

In the skies, she would never run. Even against Vhagar, Silverwing was quicker. More agile. She'd have a fighting chance. 

But in the halls of Winterfell? She had nothing. 

She moved away from the door, looking around in panic. 

Without thinking, she ducked under the table, pulling her legs to her chest in hopes that she'd go unseen.

Sure enough, Aemond threw open the doors to the dining hall. 

She could tell it was him by the pace of his stride alone. 

The clicking of his boots neared, and she found herself holding her breath. 

The boots came into her line of sight, pausing in front of her. 

She wanted to scream when his knee hit the floor and his eye was suddenly trained on her. 

"Sister," he hummed lightly.

"Aemond," she whispered.

"You must get better servants," he mused. "Yours sing like canaries."

"Where is my husband?" 

His brows shot up, "Dunno. I haven't seen him."

Where was Cregan?

"Come out from there, dear sister."

"No."

A hummed resonated in his throat before he spoke, "Still stubborn as before. I had thought the North would drive that out of you. C'mon."

She shook her head, anger rising her her. "Leave, Aemond."

He sighed, "Be difficult then."

His hand encased her ankle, dragging her out with ease. 

She let out a scream as she sat up and began to pry his hands from her. 

Aemond was used to combat and seemed completely unfazed by her fighting. "Listen to me, sister."

She continued to fight until he straddled her, holding her arms above her head.

"Why must you always fight me?" He seethed.

She stilled, a fire lit behind her eyes, "The North has only hardened my heart to you, brother."

"īlon share ānogar, mandia," he growled. (We share blood, sister.)

"Nyke northern." She whispered. (I am Northern.)

He grunted in frustration, pushing himself off of her and standing. He pinched the bridge of his nose in anger, "You fight against your family. Against me."

She sits up, brushing off her dress, "I fight for the true heir. You and I both know we were not made out of love. Father did not care for us. Rhaenyra is to be Queen. Not Aegon."

"Watch yourself-"

"Aegon did not wish for this!" She yelled. She then used the table to help her stand as a thought came to her. "You are only here for my dragon. I thought you'd come to fight for Aegon, but no." She neared him, daring him to do something. "You only fight for yourself."

A hand shot out, gripping her throat tightly as the other rested over the handle of his dagger. He spoke through gritted teeth, "Do not speak of what you do not know."

"Might I remind you of the same?" Cregan's voice suddenly chimed in. 

Behind Aemond stood Lord Stark, Ice poking into the Prince's back.

"Tell me why I should not spear this sword into you now and end this war entirely?" Cregan threatened.

Aemond's jaw clenched as he stared at his sister who remained motionless. 

Finally, he let her go, cursing himself lightly when she dropped to the ground and coughed. 

"Turn yourself around and face me properly," Stark commanded.

Aemond did so with a look in his eye that could kill. "You command your prince-"

"I command the Green traitor scum that dared invade my home and threaten my wife."

"I still hold the fiercest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms," Aemond taunted. "What will stop me from burning all of the North down?"

"Then your war will be lost before it even begins," Cregan said lowly. "For I will hunt you down. And where a Stark leads, the North follows."

When Aemond stepped forward towards the Northernman, the tip of Ice rested against his stomach, the threat still there. "I am only here to return my sister to King's Landing."

"You touch her, and you die by my hands, Prince."

Aemond's head tilted, "So scared you'll lose the war?"

"Hardly," Cregan reasoned. "You're just not touching my wife."

"She," the prince pointed, "Is a Princess and a dragon rider first. Not your little northern wife."

"And yet she didn't choose you, did she?" Cregan mocked softly, enjoying the anger radiating from the man. "She chose to stay."

"She has no choice," Aemond gritted his teeth.

"And still she didn't choose you," He smiled. He looked past the prince, "Alright, pretty girl?"

Y/n looked up at the two, her fingers massaging her neck where bruising had already begun to show, "'m fine."

Cregan took that for an answer enough before turning his attention back to Aemond, "Leave before I change my mind."

Though filled with hatred, Aemond had no defense. He stepped away, his eye not leaving the Lord. "You'll regret this." He turned to his sister, "You'll wish you'd chosen differently."

She spoke up, her voice hoarse, "I shall see for myself."

Trying to force a unbothered tone, Aemond hummed, "Very well."

He then turned back on his heel, retreating from the hall.

The moment he was gone, Cregan abandoned Ice, kneeling in front of his wife, "Gods, what did he do to you?"

She held his hands, keeping them from wandering over her is panic, "Just some bruises. I promise. I'm alright."

"Forgive me. He had snuck past us men entirely and through the doors before any of us had even spotted him."

She shrugged, "You came when it mattered most."

"Aye," he smiled. "I always will, my girl."

She leaned forward, connecting their lips gently.

He groaned against her. "I always will."

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Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog

[alcoholfreenayeon]

yow what abt twice mtls? confess first, fall in love, get jealous, fall out of love. great jeongyeon hc btw

Twice most to least likely: Get jealous

A/N: I feel some of these ended up sounding more yandere than jealous🙂‍↕️ but hopefully that’s just me😭hope you guys like it

Sana

She’s a huge flirt, she likes the way she can get people to be infatuated with her plus she likes to play hard to get.

Because of this she’s not used to people seeing her as a second choice so when she sees her partner having a good time with someone else when she’s available or even when she isn’t, it makes her feel strange.

It’s uncharted territory for her and she feels possessive immediately. After all what does the other person possess that Sana doesn’t. Why isn’t her partner yearning for her every moment instead of having a good time without her…

Nayeon

You’ll find Nayeon staring daggers at you with or without a polite smile. It’s really not a fun sight to witness because you just know you are in so much trouble later.

Nayeon feels very possessive of you. She’s someone who needs a lot of reassurance so you being clingy with anyone other than her doesn’t bode well with her.

Though she ends up feeling a bit silly after some time thinking for being so possessive she can’t help it, she wants you for herself and only herself.

Mina

Mina is a big introvert and she likes to stay indoors alot and keep to herself. But she knows she can’t really force you to do the same.

Nevertheless, she secretly wishes you would be that way. She’d prefer if she could have you all to herself. If it’s only you and her, all day everyday,

She feels sometimes she’s not good enough and that might make you drawn to others and hence gets her guard up immediately when she sees you being close with someone she doesn’t know.

Momo

You were happily chatting with your friend while waiting for Momo. You had known her for a long time, you didn’t take much notice of it when while laughing at a joke, she put her hand on your arm.

Soon enough, her instincts began to scream for danger and upon looking around, she spotted Momo a few meters away, glaring at both of you. “Is that your girlfriend?”…..

The journey back home was quiet. You realized how that might have looked out of context and were fearing Momo saw it differently. She was quiet though. “Everything ok baby?”, you ask her.

“Yes. But you need to sleep early and rest well”, she replies. “Huh? Why do I need extra rest?”, you question. “Well the couch isn’t very comfortable to sleep on is it”, she answers, unbothered, as she looks into the rearview mirror and applies her lipstick.

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung and you were surprised to run into your ex at the mall. It was a bit awkward for the three of you but luckily there was no violence.

She hated how you and your ex became awkward because for her that meant you both saw each other and intentionally or unintentionally reflected back on the time you both were together.

She hated when while leaving, you both shared an inside joke which she didn’t know. Chaeyoung knew it’s just how these things go but that didn’t make her blood boil any less.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu is observant, she doesn’t always speak out, never mind her speaking her mind.

So when she was looking at your Instagram and spotted old posts of you and your ex, it just made her quite upset.

But she also knew it was the past yet she also thought you could have deleted it. After all wasn’t the ex was no longer part of your life.

Dahyun

Dahyun was watching you talk with the party’s host. It was normal. The two of you seemed to be getting along well.

She was standing a few feet away, getting something to drink when she suddenly heard the host make a suggestive flirty comment towards you. You didn’t realize it and just laughed along,

Dahyun though, gritted her teeth, it’s annoying that you always are so oblivious to these things. She’s gonna scold you for that later, as for the host…well, it’s a good thing her nails felt sharp right now.

Jihyo

Jihyo knows her worth and she knows you know it too. So she’s never really worried about someone else stealing you away.

But after watching some dramas, she got a bit influenced by them and began to worry that she didn’t like you as much as she thought or wanted because why wouldn’t she ever feel jealous. It was normal for couples to feel jealous at some point right?

And when she asked you to try and flirt with a cashier because she wanted to test something, you definitely felt it was a test. It took a lot of convincing from her and a promise that you wouldn’t get in trouble. Reluctantly you did it but when the cashier actually ended up giving you her number. Jihyo took your hand and dragged you out of the store without even buying anything. You were in big trouble.

Jeongyeon

Jeongyeon never has any real reason to doubt you. She knows you both love each other very much.

Of course, it’s inevitable that at some point either of you would get approached by someone else. It won’t be your or her fault if that happens.

But that’s easier to think when it hasn’t happened. When a fellow idol told Jeongyeon that she was lucky to have you and she should be careful you could get stolen. Though Jeongyeon was polite, her glare she ended up shooting at them later would have scared them silly.

[satoruhour]

Helllooo!!!! I hope you're doing well<33 I'm not sure if you're taking requests so this can be taken as a random rant as well. (I'm in my exam week-depressed-stressed era lol) but is it just me Or the animated version of choso and the mans voice actor just doubled his hotness!?? Hence why me is here to ask if you could do a choso street racer au, could be anything from him meeting at a race or him taking them drifting? Idk but I just need more racer choso au's😭😭😭

LUCKY DIME

a/n: oh no my love i hope your exams went well and that you’re resting comfortably now ❤️ OFCCCC i planned to write a racer!choso for so long i just didnt have any motivation / tagging @screampied

wc: 3k

warnings: racer!choso, reader is ‘dating’ a weirdo, fem!reader, threat of sexual assault (from weirdo guy), threatening harm, flashback, unsafe driving tendencies (dont follow them in this fic lol pls drive safely), semi-public sex (parking lot), car sex, slight nipple play, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, finger sucking, implied multiple rounds and p -> v sex later on, n*sfw under the cut

choso hasn’t always been open about his origins — moving from the shimotsuma district to shibuya just two years ago in need of quick cash to send back to his struggling mother. it was a hard decision on both ends, with his mother advocating more for him to leave for a better life than the one she could offer. he acquiesced with a promise to earn enough to send back to her every month in return for the secret stash she provided for him and that promise meant everything. he was going to get money no matter what.

even if it meant meddling with the local yakuza, doing petty little tasks of collecting money, escorting the people important to the oyabun to their meeting places, being on lookouts while gambling and prostitution happens indoors. choso would never write back to his mother on what he’s been doing to get so much money, but if he’s able to send a hefty amount back to her on every 29th, he’s satisfied.

that is until he’s met with a couple arguing as they walk along the alleyway, creating such a ruckus that choso’s sure they could power the whole of shibuya — well, more of the man, anyways, saying something about racing and cars that he’s not even sure he catches on.

“well, if you just listened to her and opted for a flat-plane rather than use a cross-plane, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the race!” you’re throwing your hands up, struggling to walk behind in these new heels you bought while you navigate the dark alleyway. for a boy who’s expressed interest in you, he wasn’t doing well in trying to keep you one bit. you’d say he’s rather annoyed that you know so much about cars, trying to genuinely help him while he just sees it as attacks.

“yeah, well, if you kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have embarrassed me about losing to noritoshi.” you roll your eyes, unaware you’re passing a dangerous area with dangerous activities behind the door choso was guarding, nor do you notice the way the bodyguard perks up at the name of noritoshi, who sounds awfully familiar.

you scoff, “trust me, you embarrassed yourself the moment you tried to challenge the dude,” it was meant to be a harmless comment; noritoshi could never measure up to the famous four, but he practised his drifting hard enough and put in the hard work, stayed humble. he was everything that your “man” wasn’t, and it was only deserved that he didn’t win. ultimately, you didn’t expect much from a man in the illegal racing scene who only cared about who had the nicest engines and paint finishes.

“what’d you say?”

choso keeps a close eye on the both of you.

“it was nothing—” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his arm to get him to stop shouting so loud when you notice the person standing in front of a shady door — twin pigtails hairstyle with a dead look in his eyes and a tattoo across his nose, dressed up in a suit. it was scary enough walking through a dimly-lit alleyway, but your fear heightens when your eyes fall upon the surroundings of ashes of late night campfires, dried blood along the walls, and used condoms on the floor.

“no, no, tell me what you said, just so i know that i heard you right,” your “man” insisted, stepping up so close to you that your nerves were on high alert from the proximity and the possibility of that someone just a few feet away inflicting harm on the both of you.

“it was nothing! i just meant that you didn’t have a chance against noritoshi from the st—” it’s like you hit a sensitive nerve, because the next thing he’s doing is grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, not aware of how choso perks up even more, ready to leave his post. it borderline hurts with the way he grasps at your skin, paired with the discomfort of your heels and outfit, you can’t just wait to get home and rest up.

“ohh, so that’s what you said!” the man continues to tug you, not heeding your pleas for him to stop, “might as well just leave you here with the yakuza to see whether you stand a chance.”

that’s what the man was guarding . . wait.

a shout wretches out of you when you notice there’s no shadows at the door that’s lit simply with fluorescence at the same time the mysterious man has one hand each on your arms.

“who are you—” your “man” has the gall to speak first, shocked at the stronger grip of the other when he tears the fingers away from your wrist before stumbling back. the mysterious guy simply tugs you into his hold, levelling the other with just a stare from his eyes that’s got him babbling and stuttering in fear. you hate to admit that once the man beside you speaks, your body curls into his side — it’s like a smooth cup of coffee that you gravitate towards.

“do you want to repeat what you just said?” choso puts you behind him as he approaches the other, one step taken while the cowering one takes one step back. “because i can always open the door i’m guarding and let them take care of you, instead.”

“t-that wouldn’t be necessary—” he’s adamant on his threatening, taking out a flip phone and dialling numbers one by one, no doubt the number of his boss. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on the pigtailed man as he continues to dial the number and pressing call. if choso’s being honest, he’s about to shit himself just as much, never having called his saiko-komon personally before so he only fakes the number, thanking the heavens that someone somewhere decided to call his boss’ phone just at the same time.

they all hear it, the familiar nokia ringtone from behind the door, but in choso’s ear, all it says is that it’s an invalid number that garners no answer. he talks over the operator’s voice anyway.

“yeah, i need you to take care of this guy. just outside here—” that’s enough for him to go running away, puddles splashing and his voice crying out for civilisation, although you’re not too happy yourself, afraid for your own fate. kept like a pet for the yakuza? made to work for them to pay off this small helping hand? commit—

you sit up from the hood, “you called a fake number?!” it’s hard to say when that fateful meeting turned into this over the past few months, asking choso to recount the night the two of you met out of curiosity when you realise that your yakuza-accountant boyfriend had dialled a fake number the whole time.

“i had just joined! i wasn’t going to phone my boss . .” he sheepishly says with head turned to you, and while you’re giving him brutal smacks on the shoulder (“what! if! he! hadn’t! run! away! were you going to let a phone operator beat him up?”), you’re still thankful he decided to step in at the right time even if his heroic act had been brought down a notch by this revelation.

it’s then that he asks about the whole racing thing you were involved in but you’re taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t going to make you do anything in return. even if the alley had boasted its dubiousness, you realise than the man standing in front of you was not much older than you, a childish sparkle in his eyes when you entertained the question. with a random number in your phone, it was up to you if you wanted to text him, but after a few races, you think that he was just too handsome to pass up.

choso picked up racing and drifting fast, joining your small group of friends of yuji, megumi and nobara who were all rising up the ranks. it was difficult, knowing the famous four, but it didn’t hurt trying to build a reputation in the underground scene. he practised around the docks, crashing into crates, sending the seagulls flying, and almost sending your scrap car over the edge.

“tokyo is pretty at this time of night,” choso mumbles as he sits up, too, liking the way you scooch closer to him on the hood of his 1967 Ford Mustang.

“tokyo is cold, i’m lucky i’m not freezing to death.” you tease him even when you’re wearing his warm jacket, squealing when his cold hands make it under the jacket and your shirt.

“how are you cold, that jacket’s wool!” he nestles his face into your neck, freezing nose touching the skin there and you giggle, trying your best to push him away. choso says that, but he’s happy to see you in his jacket while his arms tingle with both frost and lovesickness. “you’re just extra sensitive to the cold.”

before you can retaliate, though, he’s pulling away from your body heat to look you in the eye; it was a wonder he even got you, a girl who’s just so passionate about cars and who taught him everything he needed to know about it. six months down the road, he’s writing about something other than living paycheck to paycheck again, getting in some extra money from racing as well.

“wanna drive?”

you grin, hopping off his hood before jumping into the car beside him and he only laughs at your enthusiasm, hopping in after you and starting the ignition. you wish it was like this before every race: you beside him in the passenger seat as he gets ready to race against his opponent. the rev of the engine always excites you, knowing you contributed to the many modifications of his Mustang. but choso always says it’s dangerous for you — so you’re left to watch from the sidelines.

but now, as choso drifts down the mountain, you can’t help but stare at him as he changes gears every few seconds, hair blowing everywhere from the wind outside before he reaches the base and races off into the main road. you’re shouting in excitement, music blasting loudly from the cassette player while you dominate the streets at night.

“d’you think i can break 190, sweetheart?”

your jaw drops, “while drifting?” he nods, “you’re insane . . yeah, do it.”

choso’s laughter feels infinitely heavenly, stepping on the accelerator on a fairly empty road. he’s familiar with the traffic of the roads too, so at 4am, it’s basically deserted when he speeds down the gravel while he tries to break the speed limit. you feel on top of the world, a pretty road full of green lights on every turn; there’s a couple of sharp screeches from his tires as he navigates shibuya.

“hear that increased throttle response . .” you whistle when he presses his foot into the accelerator again, Mustang speeding off into the streets while you look over to him: hand holding the stick shift and one hand on the wheel. he’s as pretty as you remember him six months ago and his beauty truly hits you in the moment that you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

“all thanks to you, baby,” feels like the final blow, not knowing the effect he has on you until you’re waiting until he slows down to place your hand atop his on the steering wheel. there he lets you steer where you want to go, face melting into recognition at the place you’re taking him to.

“you’re nasty.” in the abandoned car park, he giggles when you’re shushing him as you make your way to the backseats, levelling him with a stare that begged him to hurry.

“yeah . . whatever, you like it.”

choso grins, switching off the ignition and climbing in after you, making you forget all about the cold season of japan in mere minutes. his lips collide with yours and his body naturally pushes yours to the leather seats, driving you crazy just with his mouth. his hands make quick work of your skimpy outfit, inching past your tight halter top and to your tits. you gasp softly into the kiss.

“may i?” even after all this time, choso still asks for permission, pulling down your top and bra when you nod.

his mouth is both warm and gentle when it meets with your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and eyes looking up at you just to relish in the hooded lids and soft moans you give him. his free hand fondles your other, squeezing and playing, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“just s’soft . . always,” he hums into your chest, kissing you down bit by bit and making you wait for it with each teasing journey he makes. there, he manoeuvres himself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpeted finishing as your knees hook onto each shoulder. the car is filled with your laboured breathing, watching him slowly undo the straps to your uncomfortable heels. it’s excruciatingly slow, pulling at the strings and removing each shoe before his lips leave fire along your shin, up to your thighs and to your pulsing core.

“choso . .” you whine, hips bucking off the leather.

all he does is laugh, hands spreading your legs before he’s licking his lips at the mess you made in your skirt, panties and back of the fabric soaked right through. your boyfriend pulls you forward with a certain fervour that makes you yelp and you match him with a nervous grin as he tugs away the underwear and marvels at the arousal that just sticks to your pussy, pretty and dripping right in front of him.

you have no warning before choso indulges himself in your cunt and you cry out in surprise, hand tangled up in the mess of his hair that falls from his pigtails. his warm tongue laps at your clit like a man starved, slurping up all of your arousal into his tongue. the cold weather is just the cherry on top, cold wind wafting through the walls and the windows, making you extra sensitive.

“c-cho—” you hum, one hand lost in his black locks while the other clutches tightly onto the seats for any sort of anchor while choso only pushes his face further in between your legs. he can feel your pussy clench around nothing, switching between sucking and flicking his tongue with a relentless pace that threatens your sanity. “t-too much . .”

all he does is laugh into your centre, eyes flitting to meet yours while he continues his ministrations, arms wrapping around your thighs. choso moans at how good and sweet you taste, a curious hand moving from your legs right to your hole where he plays with your folds. gently, he pushes past your walls and you whimper from the intrusion, clamping down around his finger.

“relax, darling, i got you,” he softly says, relaxing his pace just a bit as he starts to thrust his finger. while slow, his tongue doesn’t stop, however, still continuing to make the lewdest noises.

“pussy so damn sweet,” he groans, nuzzling his face right into your sloppy core before teasing a second finger; it’s easy to slip in but he still warns you wordlessly, inching them right in until they reach the knuckles, “and so tight, too—”

the car is filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of your pussy and your endless moans as choso starts to pump his fingers in and out, reaching so much deeper than any of your toys can and stretching you out just right. your hips buck uncontrollably as you feel that coil in your stomach, knowing that you were only going to get even more of this before choso properly fucks you — but it’s all he promises, that to make sure you’d cum on his fingers and tongue thrice before he even thinks of railing you like you deserve.

“c-choso, your fingers—!”

“yeah?” it’s breathless, bottom half of his face all soaked and wet, but he goes right back in.

“mmfuck— cho, cho, p-please . .” your words are jumbled up, babbling through your teeth while his fingers gathers all of your juices, “i’m g’nna—”

choso thinks you’re just perfect like this, moaning as much as you want in his Mustang and spread out just for him to eat. he cannot keep his eyes off you, curling his fingers just a bit to find your sweet spot as he flicks your bundle of nerves as his eyes stay on the way your lips part for little pants to escape. your eyes have fluttered close by now but he doesn’t mind as you continue to push his head towards your cunt.

“cum on my fingers, my love,” the other groans, words muffled a little, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.” 

“cho— f-fuuck . .” you writhe around on the leather seats as you reach your peak, voice descending into a silent scream while your jaw hangs open. at his peripheral he can see and feel your thighs tremble while you chant his name like a prayer, over and over until you think your voice is hoarse. his seats are wet, no doubt, and you wince seeing your cum decorate the leather, but choso quietens your worries as he leans up to give you a kiss. you can taste yourself.

“taste good?” you’re ruined despite it being your first orgasm, answering half-heartedly before slumping, a soft moan leaving you when he removes his fingers and strings of your arousal stick to each digit. his hand naturally gravitates towards your mouth, fumbling with your lips before he pushes in — distracted, he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto your cunt again and you mewl loudly.

“that’s just the start,” choso grins, laying a long stripe up your pussy and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls over his fingers, “i’m sorry in advance . . hope you’re able to get out of bed tomorrow, baby.”

[stuckybangs]

Thank you to all the participants in this year's reverse bang! We're thrilled to present the incredible 34 collaborations in this round! From the artists, to authors, to betas, pinch hitters and cheerleaders, we thank you all for being a part of this year's bang!

Under the cut you'll find all the collaborations from this year. Enjoy!

Touch Me and You'll Never Be Alone [not rated, wip] art by @metalbvcky written by @hanitrash

Bucky is barely managing to get by on his own, but is proud of the small, safe life he's created for himself. He's even content to thirst in secret over the insanely hot older man that recently moved to the area. But when a popped tire and an early season winter storm combine to throw their paths together, Bucky's carefully constructed life is about to get flipped upside down.

hold my body (hold my breath) [Teen, 2/2, 16k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @teenytabris

“You were born in a storm. On a rocking boat, too. Maybe that’s where all this started,” his ma had said, kissing his head and rocking him in her arms. “Demanded to come into the world in an in-between place. Couldn’t wait to get to America,” she joked. Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that even imagining a boat out there, getting tossed by waves, made him feel ill enough that even looking at the rain made him retch weakly. His ma tutted, and pressed a hand to his forehead. -- Steve has always had an all-consuming fear of water, and nearly drowning twice only made it worse. One day, after just turning on a tap sends him spiraling, he has to consider what his breaking point is.

Runaway [Teen, 8/8, 20k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @mandyyvibes

Steve still felt a little guilty that Bucky was willing to do all that for him. Did he really deserve his unconditional loyalty? He could’ve picked anyone at school to be best friends with, but he picked him, and Steve would never know how he got so lucky. The thought of running away was comforting, anyway, even if maybe they couldn’t actually leave for a while. Days, weeks, months. — In which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes grow up together under circumstances that no child should have to face, and Bucky paints Steve daydreams of a better life together, if only they could run far enough.

Finding You With Open Arms [Gen, 1/1, 8.5k] art by @taybay14 written by LuxuryVelvetStudebaker

Coming home means the big things are the little things

Some legends are told [Explicit, 2/2, 26k] art by @rufferto9 and @chaosmanor (additional art) written by @chaosmanor

Twenty-eight billion kilometers. Four thousand years. That's how far Bucky has gone to get away from HYDRA, and that's how far Steve will have to go to bring him home.

The art of shadowboxing [Explicit, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @dharmasharks

In 1918, Bucky is forced to flee New York with his family. In 1923, he returns as a prize fighter, determined to send money to his sisters and stay far away from the gang violence that destroyed their home. And then Steve Rogers shows up. These days, Bucky’s childhood pal isn’t facing down neighborhood bullies. He’s taking on every factory owner in the Garment District—and every gangster they hire to intimidate union members. By joining the fray as Steve’s bodyguard, Bucky can finally stand up to the mobsters who took so much from him. And if that means spending a whole lot of time by Steve’s side…well, that’s just an added bonus.

In the Mood to Let You Know [Mature, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @voylitscope

Bucky's never liked keeping secrets from Steve, but there are a few things he hasn't told his best friend over the years. These days? There are three. The two new ones he begins keeping in the summer of 1925, and that one massive secret he's been holding onto since 1918. (Or: During the height of the 1918 flu outbreak in New York, a seveneteen-year-old Steve spends a month indoors. Steve and Bucky write letters to pass the time and keep in communication. By the time Steve is out and about again, they've said a few things they'll never say out loud.At least not until 1925, when Bucky can't seem to stop running into Steve in unexpected places. )

Desert Fires [Explicit, 1/1, 9.6k] art by @zanthems written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Bucky doesn’t plan to end up high and naked in the desert with stars shining in the heavens and his eyes with his dick deep inside a dainty, beautiful man with sparkling sapphire eyes and chapped, bitten lips that drive all coherent thoughts from his mind. He didn’t intend for any of it to happen, but that’s where he’s found himself, nonetheless.

Coffee, Sugar, and Pine [Mature, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

There’s nothing Bucky loves more than his cat Alpine and an excellent cup of coffee. After three tours in the army, he’s probably earned a few breaks and an IV of caffeine. When he steps into a café in Brooklyn where a spunky redhead mans the cash register and a sassy blonde with sparkling blue eyes concocts delicious hot beverages, Bucky realizes he’s found his perfect drink and perhaps his ideal mate. Now, he can’t stop thinking about how to guarantee that he’ll have both for the rest of his life.

Let's Do It [Teen, wip] art by @skullfragments written by @trinitydaydabbles

Even before Steve drags him up before the crack of dawn to go running, Bucky is already plotting his revenge. If only Steve didn't know him so well, maybe the day wouldn't devolve into a game of one-upmanship.

Human Lens [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @chaossmagic

Torn from his old life and dumped unceremoniously in the 21st century, and then having to face an alien attack just months after coming out of the ice, Steve Rogers is struggling to come to terms with everything he's lost and isn't sure the title of Captain America is one he feels 100% comfortable with anymore. Alone, deeply lonely and desperate for anything to help him feel like his old self again, he stumbles across the work of fellow veteran and photographer Bucky Barnes, who specialises in helping wounded soldiers reclaim their bodily autonomy and sense of self after injury in combat. When he asks Bucky to take his own photograph, he finds the connection he's been looking for the entire time. And, as it just so happens, Bucky finds exactly the same thing.

Taking Pictures [Gen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @leavinghopeao3

Reporter Steve Rogers and photojournalist Bucky Barnes stumble across a conspiracy at the heart of the United States government. Will they be able to stop it before it's too late? And will this fight bring them closer together?

lost to time [Mature, wip] art by @rufferto9 written by @burnin-brighter

As Steve returns the last Infinity Stone, he realizes there is nothing for him to return to in 2024. His friends, the ones who are still here, have families they want to be with or people they need to help. Steve has no one. Bucky died in 1944, Natasha died on Vormir, Tony perished in the fight with Thanos. What is he supposed to do? There are many options in front of him, though before he can make up his mind, a ghost from his past appears. Could it really be his Bucky?

A Game for Two [Mature, 1/1, 9.9k] art by einahpets written by @dontcallmebree

Steve will never forget the itch under his skin, the need to peel the world back until it finally felt right. He knows he would have gotten it then, would’ve finally latched his teeth around this amorphous, unnamable thing that had been haunting him if it weren’t for the Winter Soldier. If it weren’t for Bucky. And ain’t that a trip and a half—if not for Bucky. Story of his fucking life. The hands of fate are familiar, loving, and too cruel by half.

Til the End of the Line [Teen, 7/7, 14.7k] art by @taybay14 written by @xoxobuckybarnes

Back home after their first tour, the Avengers are getting ready to record their second album - they just have to write it first. Lead singer, Bucky Barnes, struggles to write a song that's not about his childhood best friend, the drummer of the band, Steve Rogers. The problem is, Steve has no idea how Bucky feels about him. When another childhood friend starts leaning on Steve, Bucky must decide if it's time to let his crush go, or to finally be brave and let Steve know how he feels.

Plan Bee [Gen, 1/1, 15k] art by britbrit99 written by @hkandiu

Steve is still getting used to the 21st century and begins to frequent farmers markets, where he becomes a regular customer of Shield Apiary, a small business selling all things honey. As he enters that sweet chapter of his life, Tony decides to take on a new project - finding someone for Steve! Steve lies to the team that he's already dating someone but before he can come clean, Tony reaches the wrong conclusion that Steve is dating one of the owners of Shield. Except, Steve's never met Bucky, much less gone on a date. Becca somehow talks the men into pretending to date to help Steve, and the month isn't what anyone expected...

The Beekeeper & The Gardener [Gen, 10/10, 13k] art by britbrit99 written by E_Greer

Every morning, Bucky likes to greet the dawn and watch morning runner guy. Every morning, Steve likes to sip his coffee and watch plant guy. One morning, runner guy and plant guy meet.

Let Us Partake in Summer’s Bounty [Teen, 1/1, 11.8k] art by britbrit99 written by @theflailing

Spring was one of Steve’s favourite seasons; it was a time of renewal and intention, a time to plant the seeds of things that will yet bear fruit, both literal and metaphorical. It was a time when the chilly grip of winter gave way to the lush green of new growth; it was when the world took its first deep breath and stretched its limbs after the long, somber solitude that preceded it. Although Steve was born in the height of summer, his mother always said that he did not belong there. “I did a reading, the day you were born,” she would tell him often, a soft and loving sparkle in her eyes. “Your heart belongs to the springtime; it is an omen that marks your soul.” -8- Steve is never one to turn down a request for help, and as he prepares to accept this call for aid, he reflects on his life, the friends he has made, and the community he serves.

I'll Use You (As A Focal Point) [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @lynlee494

The Soldier’s understanding of the world begins to unravel after he completes a mission and finds a helpless, shivering, and soaking wet kitten. Unable to leave, knowing the frail thing will die in the elements, the Soldier makes a choice... The Soldier can not risk contact, capture, and the inevitable return to Hydra and captivity would bring. He may remember Steve Rogers, but he also remembers Captain America. Similarly enhanced, the Captain would have the advantage, the Soldier’s movement would be limited with the kitten’s safety to consider.A surveillance approach is the safest angle to take. There had been notebooks at the museum exhibit, so there may be more memories to be dredged up if Steve Rogers still keeps journals, keepsakes, things that may stir up more memories - more pieces to fill in the expanse between Bucky and the Soldier.He’ll seek out Steve Rogers, who seems to feature in nearly every memory with Bucky, but he’ll be cautious. Can hopefully glean from the exposure more about the time before Bucky – before he – was presumed dead in a war. From before Steve’s Bucky became Hydra’s, time stuttering by till the Soldier was born.

5 Times Bucky Tricked Steve Into Washing His Hair +1 Time He Didn’t Have To Ask [Explicit, 8/8, 34.8k] art by @taybay14 written by @norelationtoatticus

During the worst of his recovery, Steve used to wash Bucky’s hair for him. Now, Bucky is a semi-stable hundred year old man who can bathe all by himself… but he misses Steve washing his hair for him. Asking for it? Out of the question. Lies, subterfuge, and expertly crafted machinations to manipulate Steve’s big, soapy hands right where he wants them? Much more Bucky’s style.

Piece By Piece [not rated, 10/10, 34.7k] art by @skullfragments written by @taybay14

Steve and Bucky are discovered on the bank of the Potomac & brought to Stark Tower. From the beginning, everyone has one thing on their mind: Help Bucky. It’s going to be hard, but they're ready to give it everything they’ve got - and they’re the Avengers, so they’ve got quite a lot. *** “Hey, Buck,” Steve says, his voice soft. Bucky lays on his side, pressing a cheek to the soft carpeting, wishing he hadn’t ruined all his blankets. He hates feeling cold and it’s a little cold in his room. “You don’t have to talk or come out or anything, but… I’m going to lay here, okay? All night. I’m going to stay right here so you don’t forget that it’s different now. So you don't forget that you’re safe. You’re not alone.” Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that. Even if he did know, his tongue is doing that heavy-sticky thing again. Instead, he slides his flesh fingers under the crack in the door, barely able to fit the tips, and waits. A moment passes. Then Steve’s fingers are pressing right back. And maybe Steve is right. Maybe things are different, maybe he is safe, maybe he’s not alone. Maybe - just maybe - he’ll be able to get himself back after all, piece by piece.

Now That I've Met You [Teen, 3/3, 11k] art by @louikazooie written by @megs-bee

First day back from vacation, not even inside the building yet and Bucky’s boss calls, telling him to head straight up to the executive suite. “The short version is that we’ve found ourselves with a VIP who needs a personal assistant immediately,” Pepper sighs. “The longer version is that we discovered the previous assistant was selling information on said VIP’s schedule and other high-security details which resulted in, among other issues, an attempted…let’s call it assault.” Pepper hands over the StarkPad open to what Bucky recognizes as a personnel file. Commander S. G. Rogers. If he’d been drinking his coffee at that moment, he’d have choked.

The Rest Are Stories To Tell [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @endlesstwanted

After he broke free from HYDRA with Steve and his new friends’ help, Bucky is working on reconnecting with himself living in the Avengers Tower with his cat Alpine. Soon, a dream brings back memories of his time as the Winter Soldier and one specific location in which he supervised experiments like the ones he went through. The team works together to figure out what’s real and puts the pieces together to prepare against a potential hidden thread by HYDRA before they run out of time —or the experiments run out of time. What would happen if, on top of this, Bucky discovered a secret related to Steve and me that would tie them together more than they have ever been?

out of the darkness, out into the light [Mature, wip] art by bergamotene written by @burnin-brighter

There were very few things Bucky disliked in life, although chaperoning his sister at every ball of the season was one of them. It was boring, long, and overall unpleasant. Or it used to be, until the day Bucky laid eyes on the most beautiful man he had ever seen at such an event. The man wasn’t familiar, Bucky would have remembered seeing him before. And after the first night, Bucky saw him everywhere. While he slept, while he daydreamed, while he walked around town. There was no escaping this stranger. And perhaps Bucky did not want to. What was the worst that could happen if Bucky were to let himself give in to his thoughts, to his urges?

Penumbra [not rated, 1/1, 12.7k] art by bergamotene written by @bonky-bornes

There was nothing more dangerous than having a soulmate. That’s what James had been taught his entire life. Being bound to another, life for life, got one killed just as surely as treason. Anyone with the mark of a binding was executed. Kings and peasants alike, it didn’t matter. There was nothing more dangerous than secondary loyalty to your Kingdom. James mastered the art of knives and silence, he learned to move like a shadow, unseen and inescapable. Bondeds were a disease, and he was a cure. He’d rather have his hands stained red than see his people suffer. Bondeds killed to protect one life. James killed to protect them all. - The Northern and Southern Kingdoms have been at war over Bonded Pairs for years. When a temporary armistice is proposed, and James is invited to the Southern Kingdom, it's one last chance to find a way towards peace.

No Better Version of Me [Teen, 3/3, 26.8k] art by @koreanrage written by @film-in-my-soul

Like Steve’s got a shooting star fused to his pulse (and hell, it just might be), he makes a wish. Thanos is stopped from making the snap. But just because Steve managed to save everyone else, it doesn't mean he can save himself.

no years of silence in the shadow of regret [Gen, 1/1, 9.7k] art by @koreanrage written by @hipsterdiva

“I’m fine,” Steve says again without looking at him. “You don’t have to stay.” It takes a while, and for a second, Steve thinks that perhaps Bucky will get up, pack his bag and his cat and leave. For a second, Steve hopes that’s what’s gonna happen. Then Bucky speaks. “I know,” he says. And stays. Or, Steve has baggage, communication is difficult, and (baby) steps are taken.

A Safe Place To Land [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @gloromeien

Bucky Barnes had it all—grease under his fingernails, dog fur behind the cushions of his couch, a cozy place to call his own. The house, the truck, the dogs, the works. A ride-or-die, close-knit community. A patch of land he could wander. A mountain view to inspire him. After six tours of duty and nine months in captivity, Bucky knew how bad things could get, so he didn't dare ask for anything else. Especially not someone to hold. Until a tall, blond super-soldier crash-landed into his quiet life and threatened to make all his dreams come true. For now.

Soul Mates and Circumstances [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @sunriserose1023

It’s a classic story. Boy meets boy, they share an instant connection. They have a night of pure heaven, and then life steps in. That’s the story for Bucky and Steve. They had one great night, then radio silence. Until they manage to cross paths again, but they seem destined to ghost each other. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. But what if it is?

All Along - It Was You [Explicit, 8/8, 34.k] art by @burnin-brighter written by @taybay14

It all started with a suggestion from Natasha - which should have been Steve's first clue that it'd end in trouble. She suggests a BDSM club that allows photostatic veils for anonymity, knowing Steve has growing desires he's been desperate to explore. Of course, she didn't bother to warn him of three very important facts: 1. Bucky Barnes is a member of this club 2. Bucky Barnes is apparently gay 3. Bucky Barnes is a dom Steve is stunned when he comes face to (veiled) face with Bucky Barnes himself his first night at the club. His brain malfunctions. Surely, that's the only reason why he does the incredibly idiotic thing of accepting Bucky's invitation to play with him. He knows he shouldn't - but what will one night of lies hurt? One night to scratch the itch, to get Bucky Barnes out of his system once and for all, and then Steve can move on. Except when Bucky keeps giving him chances for more, Steve finds himself unable to walk away. Like Steve said before... trouble. Unfortunately for him, he's always been a magnet for that kind of thing.

Complicate this world you've wrapped for me (I'm acquainted with your suffering) [Explicit, wip] art by LadyGigi written by @hanitrash

The Captain is sent on a mission to prove his ability to perform without the assistance of a STRIKE team. What he doesn’t know is that it’s more than his competence being tested…because if he passes, the face of HYDRA—and the fate of the world—will be forever changed.

Stephanos of the Glade [Explicit, 9/9, 22.6k] art by @murkycrush written by @wolfiefics

Escaped gladiator slave Iacomus discovers a new path in life as a guardian of a mysterious glade and it's equally godlike inhabitor, Stephanos, the river god of the Aneine River. With Stephanos' intercession, he learns to live a life outside of slavery with the help of Artemis, Ares, Demeter, and many other Greek/Roman gods. He finds his purpose in helping Stephanos protect the river from one who would cause it harm. Possibly to the death.

Covert Display [Explicit, 1/1, 8k] art by @murkycrush written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

For decades, Bucky suffered, but he’s finally back with Steve, completing missions together, and going home to a shared apartment. Despite their past, nothing’s happened between them since waking up in the twenty-first century. Until it does. Bucky just never intended for anyone else to see.

I Wanna Break a Sweat, Eating Your Juicy Cake [Explicit, 1/1, 13.4k] art by @mxaether written by @theflailing

When Bucky finally has some time off work, he books a flight to DC to visit his best friend and old college roommate, Sam. While there, Bucky decides that he needs to blow off some steam, and a Grindr hookup is exactly the thing that will scratch that itch. When the hottest guy on the planet starts sexting him, Bucky can't believe his luck. But the universe has more in store for Bucky than he ever could have hoped for, and with the luck that he's about to have, maybe he should buy a lottery ticket, because it feels like all of his dreams are coming true.

Thank you again to all the participants this year!

[sxddekarios]

taste

aka, gale's practiced tongue. my first smut, which ended up being way longer than i expected. all for my wizard though. this is in the epilogue, pts 1 and 2 are posted but not necessary if you wanna skip to the smut :)

6.5k words

a03 link with tags

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Tav tried to focus on the friends around her while she fought against worries about Wyll and Karlach, who were in Avernus for gods know how long. After Astarion ran away from the group once his immunity to the sun disappeared, they managed to track him down and get him to join them at a cabin off the coast. The night cover there was enough to keep the vampire safe, and enough to bring the comfort that Tav and Gale longed for. Meanwhile, Shadowheart and Lae’zel had some closer indoor proximity to strengthen their budding bond. Halsin and Jaheria were also settled with the group for the week before returning to Last Light.

Gale lived up to his promise of being the perfect gentleman throughout their adventure, so Tav was hopeful it would stay like this now that they’re in the clear. Tonight, he had already cooked the group dinner and let Tav take her shower first. Now Tav could hear the water turn off, and she tried to make herself look more focused on the book in her lap than she was.

She loved reading just as much as Gale, but being in a comfy bed for the first time in months, and knowing that her gorgeous partner was about to come out a wet, glistening beauty from the shower, her trouble was understandable. She loved the way Gale’s wet hair framed his face, with soft strands coming undone from his half up-do.

Their bathroom door creaked open as Gale entered their bedroom. His eyes immediately went to Tav reading in bed, the sight warming his heart.

Her eyes immediately went to his bare chest that was on full display with some droplets of water slowly making their way down to the light dusting of hair between his hip bones. He had a towel hung low on his waist. From the orb on his chest to the smooth happy trail Tav saw, she feared she was drooling.

“Sorry,” Gale started, “I forgot to bring pants in there. I’ll just …” He trailed off as he noticed that Tav’s gaze hadn’t left his body. Smirking, he walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead. That finally worked at getting her gaze to his eyes.

Gale smiled down at the beautiful woman before him. “How’s your book?” He asked.

Tav stared a moment longer before she remembered how to form words. “It’s … it’s good!”

“Good,” Gale replied with a small laugh. He ruffled her hair before walking over to the wardrobe to grab some trousers. Once he found a suitable pair — soft cerulean blue flannel that Tav said would look adorable on him — he headed back to the bathroom to get dressed.

Tav mourned the loss of a barely-covered Gale. At least now she’d be a bit less embarrassing in her conspicuous ogling of him. She so rarely saw him without a top on, but with a towel so low? And still wet from the shower? Gods, she needed to get it together before he came back in.

Once Gale returned in trousers and a dark grey sweatshirt, he walked back over to Tav and examined her book. “Looks like you’re on the same page as before, dear.”

She glared up at him for stating the obvious. “Well, dear, someone distracted me,” she said pointedly.

“Oh, really? Who would dare to do such a thing?” Gale kept up with his mock astonishment, “I think we shall have to punish them for that indiscretion.”

“And how would you like to be punished?” Tav asked him without skipping a beat. She applauded herself for her composure.

Gale slowly smiled, a rosy tint spreading across his cheeks. “I didn’t realize I was the one who distracted you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Did I make too much noise coming in?”

Tav rolled her eyes at his teasing. “No, you were just wearing far less clothing than I expected. Technically, you weren’t wearing any clothing.”

“Again, my apologies. I certainly didn’t forget my trousers on purpose,” Gale replied. She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but she didn’t care. He was adorable, and he was here. They had safety, comfort, and privacy. Finally.

Tav scooted over on the bed so Gale could sit next to her. Once he settled in, she moved to his lap and embraced him. She snuggled into his warm chest, basking in the soft scent of patchouli and amber. “I missed you,” she whispered.

Gale held her tightly as he stroked his thumb in a small circle on her back. “While I was in the shower?” He asked playfully.

She made an “mhm” sound into his shoulder, which went straight to his cock. He tried to redirect her attention by combing his fingers through her hair before she felt anything under her. She miraculously never seemed to notice it when they slept together at camp, or maybe she just never said anything. Still, he thought to himself, she must’ve blushed orsomething*.*

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Gale says as he leans back onto the headboard, supporting Tav against his chest. “You know, we can always bathe together and avoid this whole issue of being without each other.” He made the suggestion lightly — it was something he’d enjoy, but he knew that Tav wasn’t comfortable being naked around anyone. She may never be comfortable, but he hoped his words and actions could help alleviate her insecurities.

Tav laughed softly at the idea. “You wish.” She smiled into his chest and snuggled in closer. One of her hands wrapped around his neck found its way into his still-damp hair, causing Gale to let out a soft moan.

Fuck, Tav thought. So much for regaining my cool. She instinctively squirmed a bit in his lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

After a few moments of playing with his hair in silence, Tav pulled away to look at Gale. She moved her left hand to his waist over his sweater, and her right hand went to cup his face. “Gale…” she sighed, her longing evident.

Gale took in her deep gaze, full of emotion, and felt his heart surge. “Yes, my love?”

Tav stroked her thumb across his cheek. “I love you.”

Gale turned his head slightly to press a kiss to her thumb. “I love you too.”

Their lips met softly, the couple getting comfortable in each other’s embrace. Tav moved her lips against his, indicating that she wanted more. He had learned shortly after they reached Baldur’s Gate that she loathed kissing with tongue, but he found a way to lightly bite and suck at her bottom lip that turned her into a whimpering mess.

Gale nipped at her lip, causing her to shift her hips against him. At this rate, she was definitely going to feel his arousal. He ran his fingers through her hair, while using his other hand to rake his nails up and down her back.

Tav kept whimpering and wriggling her hips as they made out, reveling in the moans she could get out of Gale. One hand remained tangled in his hair, while she brought the other down to slip up under his sweater.

She marveled at the feeling of his taut stomach beneath her fingers. She slowly guided her hand down, running across the happy trail she’d yearned after for so long. She always found this fascination odd, as all other body hair freaked her out. But Gale wasn’t complaining.

Gale tried to keep his bottom half still as Tav touched him. He wanted her to explore of her own volition. Still, he kissed her with passion, letting her know that he was very much enjoying this.

Tav continued to run her hand across his muscles, driving them both wild. She let out a short gasp of surprise when her grinding caused her to discover Gale’s erection. Or at least, what she thought was his erection. Maybe it’s just his leg, she told herself. She’d never been good at discerning these things.

Sensing her pause, Gale pulled away from her soft lips. He figured she had finally felt him, and he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. “Tav,” he breathed. “You can feel how hard I am, can’t you?”

Tav bit her lip and nodded in response.

“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I need you to know that this doesn’t mean we have to do anything, okay? It just means I’m feeling good. You make me feel good,” Gale reassured her.

“I’m not uncomfortable, I was just a little confused,” she laughed. “I couldn’t totally tell. It’ll probably take me a while to be able to be certain when it’s that or … just your leg, or something. Every part of you is warm and hard, you know?”

Gale let out a deep laugh at her reasoning. “Alright. As long as you’re still feeling good, I’m good. If it bothers you or anything, we can always put a pillow there,” he offered earnestly. Astarion would scoff at his decency, but Gale was serious about making sure his love was completely comfortable.

“Hmm…” Tav pretended to think. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather feel you.” She shifted her hips forward to drive the message home. Gale sharply sucked in his breath, looking at her like she was going to be the death of him.

She’d never felt more powerful in her life. She could kill a hag, massacre a trio of evil gods, and defeat the Absolute, and yet it was the sounds Gale made that made her feel like a queen.

“Tav,” he moaned her name. She grinned in response.

Gale smiled and shook his head as he noticed her pure delight in unravelling him. He brought a hand to her waist, slipping it under the back of her sweater. “Is this okay?” He checked in with her softly.

“Yes,” she responded, sounding like she was biting back a moan. He ran his hand up her bare back, feeling goosebumps quickly form at the contact. Gale used this hand to gently guide her back to his chest so they could resume their kissing.

Eventually, when Tav pulled back for air, she noticed that it was dark outside. “Gods, how long have we been at this?”

Gale chuckled when he noticed too, realizing that it had to be an hour at the least. They were having too much fun exploring each others bodies. While keeping their clothes on, of course. He was pleasantly surprised by the amount of intimacy the act held.

”Apparently long enough that the stars grew tired of it,” he replied. “Although I couldn’t ever grow tired of this.”

Tav smiled back at him and said, “Me neither.” She stared at him with dark eyes full of adoration before letting out a dramatic sigh.

“What’s the matter?” Gale asked her.

She thought for a moment before responding. “Nothing, I just … I’m …” She leaned her head into his chest, pressing against him. He wrapped his arms around her.

Now covered by the safety of Gale’s embrace (and having her face hidden away), Tav continued. “I want more.”

Gale breathed deeply as he felt his heart rate begin to rise. “What do you want?” He asked softly, eager to give her whatever it was.

“I … I don’t know.” Tav did actually know, but she wasn’t just going to say it. She’d always had trouble verbalizing her feelings. It just felt wrong, like she was expecting too much, being a burden.

“Hm, would you like me to give you some ideas then?” Gale asked her. He knew if she said yes, he could finally get that delicious response out of her that he’d been craving since the last time they touched on this topic.

He grinned when he felt Tav nod against his chest. “Well, I could give you a massage. Or I could show you my practiced tongue,” his smirk was obvious in his tone. He knew that would easily send her over the edge.

Gale’s feeling was confirmed when Tav froze in his arms, followed by a soft, frustrated whimper. He went on, “There’s something else I wanted to show you, actually. Can you look at me?”

Tav pulled herself back to look into his adoring eyes. She was extremely flushed after his suggestion, and she had no idea what he was going to do now.

He motioned for her to hold her palm out to him. When she obliged, he traced his index finger over her palm. Tav couldn’t suppress a little moan of delight — he knew how sensitive her palms were. Gale smirked in response, telling her to keep his eyes on him.

Suddenly, Tav felt a buzzing sensation against her palm. “Holy shit,” she said as she realized what Gale was doing. “Fuck.”

She couldn’t form any more words — she was in shock that Gale created a reverberation spell, didn’t tell her about it until she said she wanted to do more, and now her pleasure was actually within reach.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

She moaned in response. “Yes.”

Gale spoke softly, “Good.” He continued running his finger over her palm, watching her eyes fill with desire he’d never seen before. He felt pride and protectiveness wash over him, knowing this was the first time she’d ever felt like this. And here he was, getting to witness it. Getting to cause it.

“Do you still want more?”

Tav moaned another affirmative response.

This was Gale’s chance. “Can I go down on you?”

The earnest desire in his voice melted Tav’s heart. “Yes,” she said for the first time in her life, “please.”

Gale couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have this effect on her. How lucky he was to fill this desire for her. He smiled warmly at her.

”Okay,” he started to pace himself. “I know you have trouble verbalizing feelings, so there’s a few ways we can do this. I’ll ask before I do anything new. You can tell me to stop, you can use the Weave to draw our minds together so I know what you’re thinking, or you can give me a little tap. Any of those, and I’ll stop what I’m doing. I’ll also stop if you hesitate while answering a question. I’ll keep checking in you, unless you shove me back down so I can’t.” Gods, how he wanted that. “Does that sound good to you?”

Tav couldn’t believe how thoughtful and sweet he was. How he wanted to actually do this for her. “That sounds perfect, Gale.”

He smiled before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, her nose, both of her cheeks, her forehead, and her neck. “Lie back,” he instructed her softly.

She followed his command, relaxing into the throne of pillows Gale arranged for her. She kept her knees up until Gale began to crawl on top of her.

He asked, “How’s this?”

“Good,” she replied. “You can come down.”

He slowly lowered himself until his body was pressing against hers. “Still good?”

She nodded, then raised her head up to kiss him. He met her lips in earnest, teasing her with his tongue. When he got to the nibbling that went straight to her clit, she hooked a leg around him. Gale moaned into her mouth as she pulled him into her, shamelessly rubbing her hips against him.

He had never seen her so comfortable with her pleasure, and it filled his heart with a surge of warmth. And his cock, if he was being honest. He began slowly grinding his hips against Tav, eliciting the most enticing whimper she’d let out yet.

“Fuck,” Gale said, “You feel so good. You sound so good.”

Tav giggled underneath him. “You,” she said between kisses, “too.”

Gale reached a hand down to caress the leg that wasn’t wrapped around him. “Can I take these off?” He motioned to her pants. “You can keep your sweater on, of course, if you like.”

Always centering her comfort. Tav nodded at him, and he sat back on his heels to help. She lifted her hips up and started to pull her pants down from her waist so he could take over at her thighs.

He reached for the fabric, then slowly pulled it off her as she shimmied out. He admired her bare legs as much as he could in the near-darkness, before he remembered to light a damn candle.

With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, Gale lit the candles on either nightstand to give them some warm ambiance. Tav grinned at his adorable response. He really was her prince charming.

“Now, back to business.” Gale said seriously. He caressed her leg, marveling at how soft her skin was. He used one arm to brace himself as he leaned back over her. His other hand traveled up to her knee, and he looked at her for guidance.

“Higher, please,” Tav whispered. He obliged, running his fingertips up her bare thigh. She tilted her head back into the pillow, watching him savor it.

Gale moved his hand to her inner thigh, gently raking his nails against her smooth skin. “Fuck,” Tav let out. “’S good.”

Gale chuckled at her eloquence. “Good, my love. That’s all I want you to feel.”

He carried on playing with her thighs, alternating between hands, until she sighed again. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows, “Yes, my dear?”

She pouted in response, sticking out the bottom lip that he loved to tease. “More. Please?”

He smiled at her again. “Of course. What would you like?”

There goes that adorable pout again, he thought.

Tav spent a few moments cursing the gall Gale had to make her use her words. “I thought you wanted to show me your practiced tongue,” she finally settled on, praying she wouldn’t actually have to ask for it.

“Hm, I did say that. However, I’d like to hear you say it. I know it’s hard, and you can be as indirect as you’d like. I just want to know that’s what you want,” Gale responded. He hated to make her ask for it, but since it was the first time, he needed all the confirmation he could get.

Tav stared up at him for a few moments, preparing herself. Finally, she whispered, “I want you to use your mouth on me.”

Gale felt his cock twitch at her words, pre-cum leaking from the tip. He groaned, “As you wish, my lady,” before moving down to her legs once again. He settled at the end of the bed so he could work his way back up her beautiful legs.

He pressed soft kisses to her calves, flicked his tongue out on the side of her knee, and spent minutes kissing her thighs while she squirmed. He took a break to meet her eyes and ask, “Is this alright?”

“Mhm-hm,” she nodded. “You can - you can be a little rougher here. As in, you can bite my thighs a bit. I think I’d like that.”

The vulnerability Tav had just shared made Gale feel all sorts of warmth towards her. He smiled, nodded, and told her to tap his shoulder or his head if it was ever too much, or not enjoyable.

He started by gently sucking at her inner thigh. Then he used his teeth to nip at her skin like he did with her lips, and he felt her hips buck in response. Cock throbbing, he raised his eyes to meet hers as he continued sucking and biting on different spots, higher and higher, until he got closer to her warm center.

Moving his hand to the hem of her sweater, he asked, “May I?” Tav raised her eyebrow, making him realize that she thought he was referring to removing her top. “I mean, may I, touch your … center?” He cursed himself for not being able to find a better word that didn’t sound vulgar. “I won’t push your sweater up, just lift it enough so I can reach my destination. If you’d like, that is.”

Tav smiled softly at the man between her thighs. “I like. I mean, you may,” she giggled.

Gale chuckled and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh before carefully lifting up her hem and leaving it right where her underwear ….

Would be, if she were wearing any. He sweared at this unexpected full access to her.

Tav interrupted his thoughts with another innocent giggle. “Sorry, I forgot I wasn’t wearing underwear.”

Gale did not think she sounded sorry, but he was elated with this turn of events. He was lost in her scent, wanting so badly to taste her.

Gale returned his gaze up to Tav. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect, my love.” He’s never meant anything more in his life.

Tav’s heart raced at the praise, and she smiled in return. “Thank you,” she said softly. She had never been called beautiful before.

He pressed another kiss to her thigh before focusing his attention where they both wanted it. His hands were on either side of him, thumbs drawing small circles in the crease between her inner thighs and her core. He took his time reaching her center, savoring the heady scent that had him harder than he’d ever been.

Gale kissed around her entrance before dipping his tongue into the mix. He noticed Tav’s silence and looked up at her.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “It just doesn’t feel like much yet.”

“You’re okay with me continuing this until we find something that feels like much?” Gale asked her, ready to stop at any moment if she didn’t want to continue.

Tav nodded. “Yes, please.”

He nodded, then returned to his mission. He alternated between kissing and licking in small spots around he vulva. Tav finally laced her hands in his hair and sighed in frustration.

Gale raised an eyebrow at her, enjoying teasing her.

“Please,” Tav begged. Please, please, please get to my clit, she thought.

“Please what?” He feigned innocence.

“You know what, mister practiced tongue.” Gods, he exasperated her.

Gale let out a laugh before obliging their desires. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit, causing her to shift her hips and tug lightly at his hair. He considered teasing her about this some more, but he knew she’d be rather unhappy if he took his mouth off of her at this moment. He would be, too. This first taste of her was more than he had dreamed of.

His kisses grew more open mouthed until he licked at her clit, tracing soft circles around her nub. Tav whimpered his name when he gently sucked on her clit and stroked his tongue over it at the same time.

She hooked a leg around his shoulder, resting her foot on his back. “Fuck,” she moaned. Then she opened her eyes again and looked at the devastatingly beautiful sight in front of her. Gale, with his hair a mess from her hands, eyes shining with love and lust, and mouth worshiping her clit.

And here she was, putting the weight of her whole leg on his back. “Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”

Gale didn’t want to pause his delectable feast, but he had to in order to answer her question. “This is perfect. You’re not hurting me, you’re wonderful. Is anything hurting for you?” He asked, remembering her pain. He knew she still had chronic pain without penetration, and it could be worsened by tightening pelvic muscles when she’s aroused. He’d have to keep an eye on that. Or a finger.

“No, it’s good. So good,” Tav replied.

Green light given, Gale returned to his ministrations. He traded tracing circles for a vertical motion, causing Tav to moan and tighten her leg around him. So that’s what she liked, he thought.

He licked and sucked at her clit until she was writhing beneath him, grinding against his face with every flick of his tongue. He was in heaven.

Gale slowly moved a finger closer to his jaw while continuing to lavish her. Again, he didn’t want to pause, but he needed to ask her something. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth off of her.

Tav pouted at the loss of contact. Gale asked her, “Do you mind if I try something with my finger? Not going in anywhere, just going around your sensitive spots as I use my tongue on your clit.”

Anything to get you back there, she thought. She didn’t really know what sensitive spots he was referring to, but she didn’t care enough to further extend the loss of contact between her clit and his mouth. “Go ahead. I’ll give your hair a little tug if I want you to stop.”

Gale pressed a kiss to her clitoris, causing Tav to throw her head back. “Thank you, my love.”

He focused more on sucking at her nub, loving the sweet taste that filled his mouth. Plums, he thought. Of course she tastes like fucking plums.

He wanted her dripping down his chin. He brought his thumb to her labia as he swiped his tongue side to side on her clit, then his thumb went lower still.

My ass, Tav realized. The sensitive spot he meant was my ass. She thought it was odd, but it felt nice, so she didn’t stop him. As long as it stayed outside, it was surprisingly pleasant.

Gale traced soft lines with his thumb, bringing his other hand up to his hair. He untangled one of Tav’s hands so he could hold it, and she squeezed it so hard that he worried he hurt her.

“Are you in pain?” He paused to check in on her, eyes full of concern.

“No, no, it’s good. I just … Can you … can you do the thing?” Tav’s voice was full of uncertainty and embarrassment.

Gale was here to take care of her, though. He always would be. “It would be my pleasure,” he told her. He moved the hand that had been exploring her body up to the top of her pelvis so he could gently pull the hood of her clit back as he licked under it.

Tav squirmed against Gale, and then he did it. He did the thing.

Tav gasped as his tongue began vibrating against her clit. She had never, ever felt anything like this before. “Gale,” she moaned breathlessly, “that feels amazing.”

His cock twitched at her praise. He reveled in knowing that he made her feel this good. His tongue began moving in small circles again, before going up and down her clit. Tav squeezed his hand, nails digging into his scalp, as he pleasured her.

She imagined him speaking to her, telling her she’s a good girl, telling her to relax and let his tongue please her. Telling her how good she tasted. Maybe, she thought, next time he could conjure a mirror image to do that. The thought brought her more pleasure as she shivered.

Tav felt a tap on her thigh, bringing her out of her fantasy. Gale was looking up at her, want evident in his eyes. She thought she saw him shifting into the mattress, almost as if going down on her was so pleasurable for him that he needed to grind into something to release some pressure. Fuck, that was another fantasy of hers that may come to fruition.

He began tracing letters on her thigh as they gazed at each other. She noticed they were upside down so they’d face her. She felt him spell out M-O-R-E?

Tav nodded, trusting him to not be talking about penetration. She felt something in her chest shift at this realization that she could trust him with this.

Gale’s tongue suddenly got stronger, causing Tav to writhe in pleasure. He licked lines across her clit and sucked at it. Tav seemed a bit less of a mess when he did that, so he brought his tongue back to the bottom of her clit and tapped against it as he sucked. That got her going.

She was whimpering and grinding against him, lost in the pleasure she so whole-heartedly deserved. Gale silently thanked himself for remembering to cast a silencing spell on their room once they got to the cabin. Just in case.

Tav was back in her fantasy imagining Gale’s deep voice praising her as he fucked her with his tongue. It really was a shame that he couldn’t do both without another spell, but there was no way she was going to stop him now to ask for it. She’d lived 23 years without having an orgasm, and she was not going to delay it when it was finally within reach.

Suddenly Gale’s voice sounded a lot more real in her head. That’s it, he said. You’re doing so good. Tav’s eyes widened as she looked at Gale, realizing he was onto her fantasy and connecting their thoughts through the Weave. Just when she thought he couldn’t be more perfect.

Fuck, she thought, please don’t stop.

Gale’s rutting against the mattress was getting more and more frenzied as he licked at Tav’s clit, feeling the wetness against his beard as he praised her telepathically. He knew how much she loved his voice, and he knew how much she loved his praise. So of course when she went off in her own little world, he got the idea that this might elevate her pleasure, as well as giving her more comfort in such a vulnerable state.

At this rate, he was going to cum in his pants.

That’s really fucking hot, Tav thought.

Gale mentally cursed at himself when he realized he projected that thought into Tav’s head. Well, at least she was into it.He decided to lean into it and tell her more about how amazing this was for him, embarrassed as it made him feel.

I have never tasted anything so delectable in my life. I could eat you out for hours. You feel amazing with your legs wrapped around me, holding my hand, tugging at my hair. You’re doing so good for me, and you’re making my cock so hard. You have no idea how hard I’m trying not to cum in my pants at the taste of you, and the gorgeous little sounds you’re making. I love you, Tavlin.

She was getting so close to a plateau she had never reached before, but somehow she knew this must be it. Next time, we’re so using a mage hand to stroke your cock while you do this. I want to see you cum.

With that thought, Gale’s tongue lapping at her clit as she ground against it, and feeling the pleasure that Gale felt from tasting her and hearing her words, Tav felt her muscles seize as she rolled her head back and moaned in pleasure. Her back arched off the bed, her legs shook, all the while Gale kept his tongue buzzing on her with hard licks.

Gale felt his cock spurting warm cum in the confines of his trousers as he witnessed Tav’s first orgasm. Liquid splashed into his mouth, running down his face in generous, heady rivulets.

Did I just make her squirt? he thought.

As Tav came down from her orgasm, Gale slowed the movements of his tongue and stopped the vibration. He could feel her muscles contracting, and he pressed two fingers against her wet entrance to keep those muscles from tightening so much that they hurt her. Tav still had her eyes closed in bliss.

Gale took the moment to selfishly lap at her entrance, tasting her cum. And her squirt, because there was no other explanation for what soaked his beard and part of the mattress under her. He felt more cum leak from his cock at the thought. He didn’t even realize he was still hard, but it wasn’t surprising considering what just happened. The taste of plums from before was amplified, along with something else. Something lighter but more sensual, like a faint trace of cherry.

Tav’s grip finally loosened in Gale’s hair and on his hand, so he looked up to meet her eyes. She looked so beautiful, an ethereal wreck after cumming so hard on his face.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she began to notice how wet Gale’s face was.

“Sweetheart,” he started, sensing that she was going to be embarrassed. “You were amazing. You taste amazing. And I want you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed that, all of that, and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? It’s extremely arousing, especially as someone who gets off on pleasuring you. That was just another show of how good you felt, and fuck, it even made me cum again.”

Surprise took over Tav’s face. “You came? Twice?”

Gale blushed. “Yes. I … I’m still fighting embarrassment over that, but I know you like it,” he admitted.

Tav smiled for the first time after her orgasm, showing that she felt some comfort in their shared situation. “I do. A lot. And you’re not … grossed out? Or mad? At me? I mean, this is a mess.”

“It’s a mess I will happily clean up. With my tongue, in regards to you, and nothing a quick spell and sheet change won’t fix, in regards to the bed,” Gale assured her. He raised up onto his arms and started making his way back over Tav, wincing at the sticky feeling in his trousers. She giggled at that.

He rolled his eyes at her and scoffed at her delight. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.” He went in for a kiss, but Tav turned her head sharply and scrunched up her face.

“What’s wrong?” Tav felt guilty hearing the concern in Gale’s voice.

She told him, “Nothing, you just smell like me. I’m not a fan.” She kept her head to the side, trying hard not to breathe in her own scent. She had no idea how Gale could be into that, or if he just said it to be nice.

“Okay, clearly you actually don’t have a refined palate. I can assure you that nothing is sweeter to me.” Gale said, surprised that she was so disgusted by it. He leaned back onto his heels and did a cleansing spell on his face — namely his mouth and beard — so he could kiss his partner in peace. He was sad that he couldn’t savor her taste, but maybe he could look forward to tasting her again. And again, for the rest of their lives.

“Is this better?” Gale asked as he moved back over Tav slowly. She finally turned her head back to look at him, noticing that he looked considerably more dry.

“Mhm,” she hummed, waiting for him to come down and kiss her. Their lips met, and she was relieved that it was back to tasting like peppermint. She melted into his kiss, pressing her body up against his.

Tav pulled away to ask, “Did you do that charm on your pants too?”

“No,” Gale laughed, “That’s a good idea though.” He paused to perform the incantation again, glad that he felt dry and comfortable down there. He’d change his trousers later, but he wasn’t leaving Tav’s side right now. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, really good. Relaxed. Thank you,” she held his gaze as she said it.

“Of course, my love. I wanted that just as much as, if not more than, you.”

Tav grinned. “And you’re okay with … ending it there?” She was much less sure about this.

“I promise, sweetheart, I’m more than okay with that,” Gale pressed another kiss to her lips, then her flushed cheeks, then her nose, then her temple. “I love you just the way that you are, and I love being with you like this. You’re an amazing partner. You make me happier than I’ve ever been, and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

This is it. “In fact,” Gale continued, “I’ve been thinking about returning to Waterdeep. I’d like you to return with me as a member of the Dekarios clan. If you want that too.” He had been waiting to be in the clear with the orb to ask this, and now that it was safe … he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Gale!” Tav exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. “Are you asking me to marry you?” Tears brimmed in her eyes at the implication.

Gale smiled at her. “Yes, I am. I would do it on one knee, but I don’t think it’d be fair to make you stand right now. You might be a bit shaky on your legs.” He smirked as arousal coursed through him at the memory that his mouth brought her that pleasure.

She raised an eyebrow at him, going for teasing despite the tears beginning to escape her eyes. “Do you have a ring?”

“Not yet,” Gale admitted. “There’s a jeweler I want to go to in Waterdeep. And I wanted to leave it open for you to pick out, if you’d like.”

“Okay,” Tav grinned at him. “Yes. I’ll marry you. On one condition — you’re going to do another official proposal with a ring somewhere nice. Not in a bed.”

Gale felt elated. “Deal,” he agreed. He kissed her slowly, passionately, tasting the salt of her tears of joy. He pulled away to pepper little kisses all over her face, causing her to giggle and press a hand to his chest so she could reach up and kiss his nose.

“I love you.”

The pair fell into joyous laughter at that — they both said it at the same time.

Once their laughing finally subsided, Tav made sure to tell him her plans before she forgot. “Next time, I want to see your cock. Just by the way, in case I get to embarrassed to say it later.” Her face was flaming at the admission now, but it was easier to say after what they just shared.

Gale felt his cock stirring again as his face heated, instantly aroused at her words. He swallowed and looked at her, making sure she wasn’t just teasing him. He’d be fine if she was, but he didn’t want to overstep if it was a joke. “Okay,” he said, trying to sound in control and mature, “we can do that.”

“Good,” Tav smiled at him. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Do you smell burning?”

He sniffed at the air. He smelt nothing besides the earlier evidence of her arousal and pleasure, but he knew her nose was supernatural.

“Guys!” They heard Astarion’s voice from the hall. “Can you come out here?”

“I think we broke the stove,” Shadowheart added helpfully.

Gale and Tav sighed in unison. It seems the end of their adventure was not the end of this group’s chaos. Tav swore she could hear humor in Astarion’s voice, like he knew what they were doing, and he wanted to tease them about it.

“Coming,” Gale called grumpily. For the third time this evening.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"The nighttime brings promises I can't keep

Givin' in is the one thing that I don't need

Got ahead of myself, gotta retrace my steps'

Cause I lost me the moment I took a piece of you

And you may never believe, but I'm sorry

I never meant for it to go this way (this way)

Only wanted the best and I'm stickin' to my story

This was a moment for me, and this was all it could be"

Destin Conrad & Alex Isley –"Same Mistake"

The state of mental disarray Celeste lived in would've broken the average woman. Having a feral pack of vampires follow her home brought on a fear so acute that she fled her cottage that same night and stayed with Mercy until the next morning.

She didn't tell her friend about the encounter, knowing she'd be packed off to a mental ward, or at least temporarily placed under observation at the hospital where Mercy worked as a nurse.

Mercy wasn't stupid.

She sensed immediately that Celeste's distress was beyond the made-up story about a burglar trying to break into her house. Crime happened a lot in the Easy, and any normal person would call the cops and bitch about soaring crime rates. Nothing would come of it, anyway. Outside of homicide, the NOLA police department wasn't known to haul ass for a B&E —breaking and entering. Mercy's suspicions were affirmed by the way Celeste acted, peeking out of the window every half hour like the time an old boyfriend before Freddie harassed her with stalking and drive-bys to her old apartment. All of her clique knew Terry left the city. She told them he had his job to get back to and things weren't going to pan out long distance. Mercy's lips poked out like she was itching to know if Terry was the problem and the reason for running off to her place in the middle of the night.

Celeste slept on the couch in Mercy's apartment and stayed indoors there while her friend left early for work. Daytime was a safe time. Isn't that what the vampire myths claimed it to be? She stared at the old bite wounds on her neck, thigh, and breasts. How could she be so blind to what they were? Terry had her so twisted up in the fog of lust that she glossed over proof that bloodsuckers were fucking real.

She groaned and closed her eyes. Terry manipulated her trust to feed from her.

New Orleans was the popular gothic home of vampire lore in the south. Countless books, movies, TV shows and the like centered it as the breeding ground for supernatural creatures. People made stories about monsters to scare children into being obedient. Bloody Mary. The Boo Hag. Zombies. Shit, even Voodoo still gave folks around those parts the heebie-jeebies even though white people turned it into a commercial joke. They sold Voodoo donuts, Voodoo dolls, and even ran up and down the French Quarter pretending to be Voodoo Witch Doctors giving graveyard tours to visit Madame Marie Laveau.

Like her ancestors before her, Celeste knew Vodun was real. Hoodoo was real. African retentions stayed rooted in the diaspora, and New Orleans was the most African city in America, witnessing unspeakable horrors done to Black people. White people were monsters bringing them to southern American shores. Surely their monstrosity enabled wickedness to flourish on southern soil and everywhere else. Her people danced at carnival, dressed as skeletons, and masked to hide their true selves. What better city to feed in than one that openly courted secrecy, excess, and spooky vibes? If people disappeared or turned up dead, the law and society could blame it on American's natural inclination to be violent with one another…not anything supernatural.

Vampires walked among them.

She swiped the cracked screen of her smartphone, looking up old wives' tales about Terry's kind. None of them supported anything he would be averse to. He had a reflection in the mirror. Crosses didn't bother him. He shook a priest's hand and didn't freak out. Never even flinched when she wore her gold cross necklace. She fed him garlic in the shrimp she cooked. The only things that tripped her up was that he walked around in the daytime, and she never saw him with fangs. Obviously, his teeth were sharp enough to break her skin, but regular human teeth could do that.

Maybe he was a familiar.

Dracula had Renfield. Maybe Terry was The Deacon's Renfield, luring people to their doom.

Celeste rubbed her scalp and swallowed down the anger festering in her chest. She'd made a mistake trusting Terry. She let a pretty boy's face and five-star Michelin dick trick her into submission of diabolical evil. The only saving grace was Terry's absence from her life, and whatever else ran around the Easy that scared the vampires away. She heard them say Old Ones. Perhaps that's what landed on her roof, causing the bloodsuckers to flee. Whatever it was, it didn't harm her, so she had one less monster to worry about.

As long as she stayed active during the day and locked herself in for the night, the vampires couldn't touch her. Had they wanted her dead or sucked dry, they would've done it days ago when she came home from work at night. They seduced people easily. Moved fast. It wouldn't take much to kill her on a dark street. They wanted her alive for a reason: to get Terry.

She texted Mercy and told her she felt better about going home. Made up a story about getting a burglar alarm. While driving to her small neighborhood in Marigny, she kept her neck on swivel to check for suspicious activity. She spent the rest of her time sleeping. She was so tired lately. Fatigue came easy.

Come nightfall, she turned all the lights on in the house and carried a sharp meat-carving knife on her. In her bedroom, she watched the news on her laptop, feeling drowsy. She typed in the words Shelby Springs into the Google search bar and tried to figure out where Terry came from. He claimed that he lived not too far from the place where his cousin was murdered. Three other parishes surrounded Shelby Springs. Typing Terry's name in the search engine brought up pictures of other Terry Richmonds, all white and mostly old.

Going another route, Celeste typed in the name Michael Simmons with Shelby Springs, and a slew of articles filled her screen. She read about a corrupt police force and an attempted coverup. Not one article mentioned Terry's name. Stranger still, four of the officers involved in the corruption scandal had disappeared months after being charged to stand trial. The only members of the force still around happened to be a Black woman who was set to testify against her fellow officers. She quit the force and refused to comment on any of the charges with the media. Celeste wrote her name down: Officer Jessica Sims. A second officer, who had been shot by his own Police Chief, made a move across the country to work at another police force.

If Terry went to help his cousin, surely Officer Sims would have information about his address, or at least the name of the parish he came from. Celeste stared at the screen. Officer Sims' round face looked haunted by something.

Another thought occurred to her, and she grabbed her cell phone. She called her cousin Butchie, who was friends with Travis.

"Butchie, can you text me Travis's number? I need to ask him something."

"About?" Butchie drawled on the other end.

"None of your business."

Butchie sucked his teeth and twenty seconds later, Travis X's number appeared on her screen. She typed it in fast, hitting the send button.

"Who dis?"

"Is that how you answer your phone? It's me, Duchess."

"Sister Celeste? What's going on?"

"Can you tell me, or ask your brother, where Terry lives?"

"Who?"

"Terry. Terry Richmond."

"Who dat?"

"Whatchu mean who dat? Your friend you brought to the Indian practice last month…your brother Scubbie's marine buddy. The one with the green eyes."

"Scubbie was never in the marines and I didn't bring anybody to the bar with green eyes. Have you been smoking that funny herb?"

"He came with you outside when you lit up my cigarette. The pretty boy."

Travis stayed silent.

"Never mind. Sorry to bother you. I thought maybe you knew him. Goodnight."

Celeste tapped her cell phone against her thigh. Terry used Travis to get next to her. He probably induced some type of hypnotic state like those vampires tried to do at her house… Jedi mind-tricked Travis into letting him hang with them. Once he was no longer needed, the memory of Terry faded from his mind.

She shut off the laptop and curled into a ball with the knife in front of her face. Resting her fingers on the handle, she made plans to visit Shelby Springs the next time she had another two consecutive days off.

Celeste drank a red bull to perk herself up for work at the elder care facility. The new client who moved into Miss Irma's old room was a cranky white man who never seemed satisfied with his care there. He often complained that his room was cold and drafty.

"There's no draft and your room faces the garden, the sunniest and warmest part of the building," Celeste said, helping Mr. Crawley with the door so he could move with his walker better to get inside his room.

"I'm telling you people I have a draft in my room and it's too cold, even when I turn up the heat. I pay too much money for this place not to have controlled temperatures," Crawley said.

"May I suggest wearing one of your nice sweaters?" she said.

Celeste grit her teeth, listening to Crawley go off, but she assisted him and nodded her head as his list of complaints grew. She helped him sit at the desk near the window where he wanted to write letters and his autobiography. He probably complained about his life there, too.

"You feel that?" he said.

Crawley held his hand out toward the closed window where sunlight created a square of light on the teal carpet. He grabbed her hand and forced it into the light.

"See?" he said, his pale blue eyes pleading with her to pay attention.

She stood with her fingers splayed out, dust motes floating in the bright light. Where warmth should've been, there was only a cold spot. She moved her hand in different areas around the window and there was definitely an icy chill that shouldn't have been there. Glancing up at the air conditioner vent, she didn't hear it working at that moment. Only the fan whirred, giving a pleasant circulation of air.

"I feel the cold air, Mr. Crawley. I don't know what I can do about it. Is it bothering you?"

"If it stayed in that one spot it wouldn't be a problem." He leaned in conspiratorially, and she moved closer to him. "But it moves around."

"Moves around?"

Crawley's tone of voice lowered, and he genuinely looked agitated by Celeste's facial expression.

"The cold moves around in here," he said.

She glanced at the window and reached her hand into the suspect area. The sun warmed her hand up. The cold spot was gone.

"See? I told you. Now it's all warm and normal again, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Celeste retrieved a sweater from the hook on the door and placed it on the back of Crawley's seat.

"I'll be back to take you to lunch," Celeste said.

She left the room and worked without incident until she walked down the hallway carrying a bag of collected trash and passed near Crawley's room. A large, cold spot sat in front of his door. The chill startled Celeste. The air in the building had slightly warmed up, but not enough to need the air-conditioning blasting more than it was. She walked through an icy gust and gasped at the sudden drop in temperature. Crawley's door was open. He furiously scribbled at his desk. Celeste moved back and forth between coolness and frigid air. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed someone walking toward the employee break room.

Miss Irma.

Celeste stood cemented to the floor, and Miss Irma turned a corner and glanced back at her. A male co-worker pushed a cart of meds down the hall and stared at Celeste's confused face.

"You alright, Celeste?"

"Did you see someone walk past you?"

"Just now?"

"Yes."

"Nope."

She didn't want to walk down the hall. Ignoring a dead woman should've been easy, but Celeste moved along the corridor close to the wall. When she reached the corner, she prayed no one would be there.

"Oh thank God," she sighed, seeing another empty hallway.

She left the building out of the side door to throw away the trash in the dumpster outside. A supervisor named Diane met her back inside the break room. Diane snacked on a bag of chips and a bottle of coke.

"Celeste, can you get in touch with Terry Richmond? He hasn't returned my calls to collect his grandmother's personal effects," Diane said.

"I haven't spoken to him in a long time."

"Well…his grandmother has boxes in our storage room and I'd hate to throw it out. The clothes we can donate to Goodwill, but there are photo albums and books—"

"I'll take them to him. I get off at five."

"You will? That would be great. Do you have time now to get it and put it in your car? I can help you. Mr. Richmond was told that we can hold items for thirty-days and he said he would get them before he left the city. It's been past the deadline."

Celeste followed Diane to the large storage room, and in the back were four medium-sized boxes and two bags of clothes. They took two trips to her car, and she squeezed all the boxes in the back seat and the passenger side. She dumped the contents of an over-sized box into the trunk and folded it up to reuse later at her home.

"Thank you so much. This makes me feel so much better. There are photos and all kinds of irreplaceable things in them. I'd hate to see them dumped in the garbage," Diane said.

"No problem. I'll keep them at my house and he can pick them up the next time I see him."

Diane left her alone. Celeste grabbed her smokes from the glove compartment and took an extra break. She hid herself in the garden and sat on one of the wooden benches. Seeing Miss Irma unearthed troublesome emotions. She worried that her mind was teetering on the verge of mental collapse from the stress and fear. Seeing ghosts on top of vampires was too much. Puffing and fretting, Celeste closed her eyes. Feeling dizzy, she leaned forward, hanging her head between her legs. Goosebumps pricked her skin as the temperature dropped abruptly around her. She shivered in the direct blazing sunlight.

"It's the baby making you feel sick," an elderly female voice said.

Celeste kept her eyes closed and head low, too afraid to open them or move. Reeling, she prayed silently and hoped that she wouldn't pass out.

"Don't be afraid. You know I won't hurt you…I just have to talk to you."

Celeste opened her eyes and focused her attention on the grass beneath her feet. She looked slightly to her right and noticed a pair of feet encased in pretty yellow house slippers. Moving her gaze higher, she recognized the simple pink floral dress, and the pale wrinkled hands.

"I'm scared," Celeste said.

The hand of a dead woman pulled her up, and they looked at one another eye to eye on the bench.

"Is this real? Or am I losing my mind?" Celeste asked.

Miss Irma's eyes twinkled. She looked more alive and vibrant than her last days at the assisted living facility.

"Your mind is fine, baby. Just fine."

"You're really a ghost, then?"

"That indeed. May I?"

Miss Irma pointed to Celeste's stomach. Celeste sat back.

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Miss Irma rested her soft hand on Celeste's belly. The warmth she exuded seemed so real. Ghosts were supposed to be smoky and floaty. Miss Irma sat next to her like the most solid and alive person on the planet.

"Well, now…Papa didn't waste no time," Miss Irma said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are pregnant, child. It's still early, but you are about to become a mama for my great-granddaddy."

"That can't be true."

"Getting pregnant?"

"Terry being your great-granddaddy…he's not even…he's not…"

"You know it's true. I can see in your eyes you know his secret…what he is. On this side, they tell me that you've done the impossible, so now I must tell you something important…something I was too weak to say before I died."

Miss Irma cradled Celeste's hands, which shook so badly that the ghost had to clamp them down tight between her palms.

"You have my things. Look through them so you may know Papa's story. He was human once upon a time ago. I spent my long life documenting all I could for my grandson Michael, but he's gone and can't hold the secret for our family. Papa wanted me to tell his story. But my mind started fading and I couldn't finish my work. Now you have become my family, Celeste. There are beings in the world who mean Papa harm… and your baby, too. They hide in plain sight in other places, but because Papa came back here, they might come for him."

"Other vampires?"

"Les Gargouilles…gargoyles. They will seek him out and kill him. Their kind are enemies to Papa. Enemies to that child if they find out about you carrying a vampire's baby."

"I've seen a few gargoyle statues in the Quarter that were never here before."

"Oh no, then it may be too late."

Miss Irma rose from her seat and looked off into the distance. She paced in front of Celeste.

"They're not active in the daytime, so you're safe, even when they hunt at night. I've tracked many during my lifetime taking pictures of them all over the world. They protect humans and won't harm you because you're a child of God. The baby will be safe until it's born and out of your body…oh no…oh no…"

Miss Irma looked at her hands. They began to disintegrate, starting at her fingertips.

"Celeste! He loves you…he—"

Miss Irma's body broke apart and floated away like the graying ash of a dying fire.

Too stunned to move, Celeste sat on the bench for the rest of her shift. She wandered away only when the sun went down. Climbing into her car, she thought of what to do with the information given to her. After an hour of sitting in her driver's seat, she drove herself to the drugstore and bought an early detection pregnancy kit.

At home, she tested herself twice.

She was positive both times.

Chapter 11 HERE.

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[thetombedspirit]

Jurassic World: Camp Fam - Next Generation

I was board, so I made a next gen for the Nublar Six, based on my personal headcanons and ships so if you don't like Benrius and Kenlynn, then please don't come at me. This is all just in good fun.

Enjoy!

Emily Bowman (Benrius)

Emily was nine-years old when her parents were unfortunately killed in a freak dinosaur attack, leaving her orphaned. Darius and Ben responded to the call and took her into their care. She stayed with them for a little while whilst Social Services began sorting out her situation, wherein during that time, Emily gotten to get to know Darius and Ben and what they do; how they locate dinosaurs, care for them, and ship them off to private island habitats funded by Dr Mae Turner and Mantah Corp, now under Kenji’s full jurisdiction. She even began to conquer her fear after making friends with a Maiasaura she named Ursa.

She was eventually put into a foster home, but the conditions were poor, so she decided to run away and return to the Sanctuary, via stealing the mum’s credit card to book a plane ticket.

Darius and Ben were shocked to see Emily and horrified to hear about the living conditions. After sending her to bed, they had a long talk about how they had once talked about adopting and raising a family, agreeing they both adored Emily and didn’t want her to go. So they gave Emily the good news the next morning that they would adopt her into the family and she said yes.

Fun Fact: Ursa the Maiasaura is a direct nod to concept dinosaurs that would eventually become Bumpy, as Maiasaura was one of the many plausible candidates.

2. Julia and Xavier Kon (Kenlynn)

Despite their ups and downs, concerning Brooklynn’s line of work and Kenji's inheritance of Manta Corp, Brooklynn tries extra hard to live in the moment and not take her time with her family and friends for granted and Kenji works hard to ensure that the Kon family name is redeemed through his work. Regardless of their hardships, they work well together and support each other through their struggles.

Julia Kon is the more extraverted of the duo. She takes after her father, enjoys skating, archery and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, preferring physical activities to staying coped up indoors all day. Her brother Xavier is more closed off then his sister. Younger by two years, he prefers technology and hacking to climbing and being outdoors.

Despite their differences, two things they have in common is their love for their family and their association with dinosaurs. Namely the herd of Parasaurolophus living by their father’s climbing camp. Every month, Kenji would take the family camping at the cliffs and the kids would play with the baby Parasaurolophuses. One in particular took a real shine to the children; Brooklynn affectionately named her Nightlight, due to how Xavier would snuggle her tightly due to his fear of the dark when they went camping.

Fun Fact: Julia and Xavier are named after Brooklynn and Kenji's original concepts for Camp Cretaceous, Jules and Xi respectively. Also, Kenji and Ben used to have different roles, with Ben being the strong, athletic character while Kenji (at this point in time, Xi) was the shy, nerdy type. They since swapped roles, with Ben becoming the shy one and Xi taking the role of the rich kid and was renamed Kenji.

3. Katie Gutierrez-Fadoula (Yasammy)

When Sammy and Yaz got married and talked about starting a family, they realized there were some complications: Sammy's encounter with the Scorpios Rex damaged her reproductive organs and left her unable to carry a child to term, and Yaz was uncomfortable with the idea of ordering a doner. So in the end, they agreed to adopt.

Katie loves her moms and her life at the ranch. She enjoys spending time with Angel and Rebel, who they were able to rescue and keep on the ranch (best cattle dogs Sammy ever had), tending to the cows, chickens and the stray Pachycephalosaurus that had been hanging around the ranch lately, who she has named Bonehead. She came out to her mums as trans when she was 13 and they wholeheartedly support her through her transition.

Fun Fact: Katie is a sorta merge of Sammy and Yaz's concepts. Sammy was originally meant to be male and Yaz's name was originally Katie.

Anyway, those are my versions of the next generation of Camp Fam. I hope you like them and again, this is just all in good fun; I'm not trying to start any shipping wars.

Take care peoples.

[klausysworld]

Hi hi!! I was wondering if you could write a Daddy Klaus fluff where the little reader has a really bad issue with her heart (prone to heart failure and has a defib implant like me) and when she's having a bad anxiety attack he helps calm her down, makes sure her heart is beating okay, etc???

His Sweet Little Heart

Klaus had noticed something off with Y/n's heart since day one when Marcel begrudgingly introduced them. Apparently she was one of Marcels only human friends, and he made it very clear that she wasn’t for Klaus to play with.

“Leave her be, Klaus” he muttered, not a hint of anything other than seriousness as Y/n approached them with a smile.

It only took one incident, Klaus had grabbed the poor girl, threatened her and pushed her into a panic. Marcel quite literally threw Klaus off her and was stroking her hair. After he took Y/n home and came back to yell at the hybrid, he spat out that Y/n had a heart condition and that he wouldn’t allow Klaus or anyone to risk her life.

Klaus didn’t really understand how Marcel and Y/n had become friends, perhaps through Davina who Y/n was also close with as it turned out.

She never spent too much time with Klaus to begin with but once everything happened with the baby, and she was under the impression that he had lost his child to witches, she tried to be as kind as possible to him. Klaus latched onto that kindness quickly.

He fed on it, he needed it. And she was so willing to give in. She’d talk with him for hours, sit and watch him paint and listen to him explain what the paint strokes meant. She would ask if he liked human foods, he said he liked beignets and she offered to go get some but he shook his head. “You do enough sweetheart, I’ll get them for us” he smiled and she softened, nodding and sitting back in the round snuggle chair he had bought for her.

Everything was quite sweet for a while, the Mikaelsons rarely went out and Klaus spent all his time with Y/n.

But then Hope turned out to be alive and suddenly the world was chaos again. Esther, Mikael, Dahlia, and anyone else was at the doorstep. Suddenly Y/n had a target over her head due to her relationship with Klaus and she couldn’t handle that well at all.

Far too often she would be wheezing for air, her heart failing to keep up with her breaths. Klaus would find her just in time, worry spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around her and held her in his lap. “It’s okay” he whispered “it’s okay, I’m sorry” he repeated, stroking her hair. His attention would be solely focused on her heart, waiting for it to beat correctly. There were few occasions when the fear settled in and he would pick her up, promising it was okay and speeding her to a hospital to make sure she was actually alright.

They always said to keep away from stressful situations.

Klaus never knew how to respond to that.

Often he would suggest she stay indoors, in his room preferably but that upset her. She wasn’t incapable and he knew that but he didn’t know how else to keep her safe.

Sometimes she would get herself so worked up about not being able to help that she’d push herself into a panic or anxiety attack. The first time it happened, Klaus had thought someone hurt her and was desperately trying to find a wound on her but after they kept happening and she refused to talk about it, he knew what was happening. And it scared him as much as it did her.

He would sit and listen to her heart weakly patter in her chest, the irregular pattern became familiar to him and alarm bells rang as soon as it went away from its peculiar rhythm.

On instinct he would scoop her into his lap, hips lips would find her face and soft words would be whispered into her ear. Gently he would caress his hand over the spot where her heart lay, waiting for it to calm down. “It’s alright my sweet little heart, let Daddy hold you” He would soothe quietly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He sighs a sigh of relief when she snuggles back against him, her heart stabilising and her breaths coming out slower. “Mm sorry daddy” she would whisper but Klaus would always shake his head

“Don’t be sorry for something that’s not your fault” he would tell her with a loving smile and a soft kiss. Her head would rest against his chest and he would hum softly while picking her up and carrying her to their bed or the sofa so that they could be together and bask in the warmth of the other.

(It’s short but it’s something 😄 Once again struggling to write. That’s a lie, I’m struggling to write on here, Im actually trying to plan out a proper book that I wanna write one day. Probably won’t happen but it’s nice to have goals?)

[earthtoharlow]

Rich Criminal

Scalvo x OC

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Chloé Delacroix had always lived a life of luxury, her days filled with designer clothes, lavish parties, and the best education money could buy. She was the epitome of high society, the kind of girl who had everything. But for all the material wealth that surrounded her, something was missing. She craved excitement, something that would break the routine of your seemingly perfect curated life.

Then came Scalvo. He was the kind of man her parents had always warned her about—a criminal with a dangerous edge. Rumors swirled about his involvement in illegal activities, but Chloé was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was everything her world wasn’t: raw, unpredictable, thrilling. When they two first met at an underground club, she knew there was no turning back.

Her friends and family tried their hardest to stop Chloé from seeing Scalvo. But Chloé was defiant. “You don’t know him like I do,” she would say, brushing off their warnings with a confident smile. To her, Scalvo wasn’t the villain they all made him out to be. He was misunderstood, a product of a world that had dealt him a rough hand. She saw the softness behind his hardened exterior, the vulnerability he showed only to her.

When they guys were together, Scalvo opened up in ways she never imagined. He told her about his rough childhood, about the choices he had to make to survive. “You’re the only one who gets me, Chloé.” he’d say, his voice rough but sincere. “With you, I feel like I can be someone better.”

And she believed him. She believed in the man she saw when they were alone, the one who held her close at night and whispered promises of a future where they’d rise above it all.

As the months went by, the tension between Chloé and her loved ones grew. They couldn’t understand why she was risking everything—her reputation, her safety, her future—for a man who lived on the edge of society’s laws. But Chloé remained loyal, convinced that love would conquer all, that Scalvo would change because of her.

But the darker side of Scalvo’s world soon began to seep into their relationship. Late-night calls, unexplained absences, the constant feeling of being watched—Chloé tried to ignore it all, clinging to the belief that Scalvo would turn his back on that life, that they could start anew.

He started showing up at her house with bruises on his arms, a cut on his lip, or a black eye that he would shrug off with a casual, “Just a misunderstanding,” or “You know how it is.”

The first time she saw the bruises, she was concerned. “Scalvo, what happened to you?” she asked, reaching out to gently touch the darkened skin on his cheek.

He winced slightly but offered her a crooked smile. “Nothing you need to worry about, Chloé. Just some idiots who don’t know when to back off.”

She wanted to press him for more, but the look in his eyes—a mixture of weariness and defiance—made her hesitate. She didn’t want to push him away, not when she felt him slipping through her fingers.

As the weeks passed, the bruises became more frequent. Sometimes he would try to hide them, pulling the collar of his shirt up to conceal a mark on his neck or wearing sunglasses indoors to cover a swollen eye. But Chloé wasn’t easily fooled. Each time, her worry grew, and she couldn’t help but feel that Scalvo was spiraling deeper into a world she couldn’t reach.

One night, after he arrived with fresh cuts on his knuckles, she couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Scalvo, this is getting worse. You’re getting hurt more often. What’s really going on?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he sat down on the edge of her bed. “It’s complicated, Chloé. Things are getting tense in the city. Some deals aren’t going as planned, and people are starting to get desperate.”

“But why do you have to be involved?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and frustration. “You don’t have to keep doing this. We can leave, start over somewhere new.”

Scalvo reached out and took her hand, his grip firm but tender. “I wish it were that simple,” he said quietly. “But this life… it’s not easy to walk away from. I’m in too deep.”

Chloé’s heart ached as she listened to him, the man she loved more than anything trapped in a world she barely understood. She wanted to save him, to pull him out of the darkness and into the light, but she didn’t know how. And every time she tried, he would reassure her that he could handle it, that everything would be fine.

But the bruises told a different story.

In the back of her mind, the warnings from her family and friends echoed louder than ever. “He’s no good for you, Chloé. You’re playing with fire.”

Yet, despite the growing dread, Chloé couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She was convinced that if she stayed, if she loved him enough, he would find a way out. She told herself that they didn’t know him like she did, that they couldn’t see the man he truly was beneath the bruises and the scars.

But as Scalvo continued to come to her battered and bruised, the realization began to sink in: maybe, just maybe, the world he was part of would never let him go, and she might be dragged down with him.

The next time Scalvo arrived at her doorstep with yet another black eye and a deep gash across his cheek, Chloé’s resolve began to crack. She couldn’t bear to see him like this anymore, broken and battered, caught in a life that seemed determined to destroy him.

They sat together in the dimly lit living room of her home, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Chloé was quiet, her fingers nervously tracing patterns on the armrest of the couch. She had always believed she could handle whatever came their way, but now, seeing Scalvo in this state, she wasn’t so sure.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Scalvo, this has to stop. You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep going like this. We need to find a way out.”

Scalvo leaned back, his expression hardening. “Out?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Chloé, there is no ‘out.’ This is who I am. This is the life I chose, the life I’ve been living long before you came along.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and love. “But it doesn’t have to be this way. We can leave, Scalvo. We can start over somewhere far away. We don’t need all of this.”

Scalvo’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of something soft crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by the cold, unyielding mask he wore whenever they talked about the future. “You think it’s that easy?” he asked, a bitter edge to his tone. “You think I can just walk away and everything will be fine? It doesn’t work like that, Chloé. You don’t get to choose the easy way out when you’re in this deep.”

He stood up, pacing the room, the tension radiating off him in waves. “I’ve tried to shield you from the worst of it, tried to keep you safe, but you’re in this now too. And I need to know if you’re really with me.”

Chloé’s heart pounded in her chest as she listened to him, the gravity of his words sinking in. She had always known that being with Scalvo meant embracing a life of uncertainty, but she had never fully grasped just how deep his ties to that world ran.

Scalvo stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes locked on hers. “I need you to understand something, Chloé. This isn’t a fairy tale. There’s no happily ever after where we ride off into the sunset and leave all this behind. This is real life. My life. And if you’re not willing to ride or die with me, then you need to walk away now.”

Chloé’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood in front of Scalvo, her mind reeling with everything he’d just said. He was giving her an out, a chance to walk away from the chaos and danger that surrounded him, and deep down, she knew she should take it. But the thought of leaving him, of never seeing him again, was like a knife to her heart. She loved him, even with all the darkness that came with him, but this…this was too much.

“I can’t do this, Scalvo,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything’s going to be okay. It’s not, and we both know it.”

Scalvo’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, might try to convince her to stay. But instead, he just nodded, the resignation clear in his eyes. “I understand,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than this—better than me.”

He turned to leave, his footsteps heavy as he moved toward the door, and Chloé felt a surge of panic rise up inside her. She couldn’t let him walk away, not like this, not when she still loved him with every fiber of her being. “Wait,” she called out, her voice trembling.

Scalvo stopped, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he turned back to face her. The anguish in his eyes mirrored her own, and in that moment, all the fear, all the doubt, melted away. She crossed the room in a heartbeat, her hands reaching for him, pulling him back toward her. And then, before either of them could think, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate, passionate kiss.

It was a kiss full of everything they hadn’t said, of all the love and pain and longing that had been building between them. Scalvo responded instantly, his arms wrapping around her as he deepened the kiss, pouring everything he had into that one, final connection.

The kiss quickly turned heated, their hands roaming over each other as they stumbled toward her bedroom. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. It was as if they both knew this was their last chance to be together, and they weren’t going to waste a single second of it.

Their clothes were discarded in a frenzy, and soon they were lost in each other, their bodies moving together with an urgency that bordered on desperation. The passion between them was raw, intense, and filled with the bittersweet knowledge that this was goodbye.

Chloé clung to Scalvo as if she could somehow keep him with her, her nails digging into his back as he moved above her. Each touch, each kiss, each breathless gasp was a plea for more time, more moments together before the inevitable end.

And when they finally reached the peak, it was with a mix of ecstasy and heartbreak, their cries of pleasure tinged with the sorrow of parting.

As they lay together afterward, their breaths mingling in the quiet darkness, Chloé wished she could freeze time, hold onto this moment forever. But she knew it was impossible. She knew Scalvo was already pulling away, steeling himself for what came next.

Scalvo pressed a final, lingering kiss to her forehead before he slowly disentangled himself from her embrace. He got dressed in silence, every movement deliberate, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of her touch, the scent of her skin.

Chloé watched him, tears silently streaming down her face, knowing that once he walked out that door, it would be over. He would be gone, and her life would never be the same.

When he was ready to leave, Scalvo paused at the doorway, his hand resting on the frame as he looked back at her one last time. His eyes were filled with so much emotion—regret, sorrow, and a love that would never fade, no matter how far apart they were.

“Goodbye, Chloé,” he said softly, his voice breaking.

“Goodbye, Scalvo,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears.

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the emptiness of the room. Chloé curled up on the bed, clutching the sheets that still held his warmth, and let the sobs that had been building inside her finally break free.

Scalvo walked away into the night, the pain of leaving her cutting deeper than any wound he’d ever suffered. He had done what he had to do, what was best for her, even if it destroyed him in the process.

As much as he hated himself for what he was about to do to her family, for the betrayal that was already set in motion, he knew there was no going back. But at least he had given her a chance to escape the fallout, to find a better life without him.

And that was the only solace he had as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind the only woman he had ever truly loved.

***

Chloé spent the entire night at the benefit dinner in a haze, her mind replaying every moment with Scalvo on an endless loop. The weight of their goodbye pressed heavily on her, making it impossible to focus on the conversations around her or the polite smiles she was supposed to give. All she could think about was the way he had walked out of her life, leaving her with nothing but memories and an aching heart.

Dressed in a gown that shimmered under the lights, Chloé looked every bit the part of the mayor’s daughter—poised, elegant, untouchable. But beneath the surface, she was a mess of conflicting emotions. She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled in her chest since Scalvo’s departure, a sense that something terrible was about to happen.

She’d tried to put on a brave face, mingling with the guests, offering polite smiles and nods when necessary, but it was all just an act. Her heart wasn’t in it. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel Scalvo’s touch, hear his voice, and the pain of his absence was almost unbearable.

As the night wore on, Chloé’s unease grew. She hadn’t seen her father in a while, and a creeping sense of anxiety began to take hold. She tried to shake it off, telling herself that he was just busy with the event, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Something was wrong—she could feel it.

Excusing herself from a conversation she wasn’t really a part of, Chloé began to search for her father. She moved through the grand hall, past clusters of guests engaged in lively discussions, but her mind was elsewhere. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t ignore the nagging fear that had taken root inside her.

As she approached the back of the building, where the offices and private rooms were located, she heard raised voices—angry, panicked. The sound made her blood run cold. She quickened her pace, her heels clicking loudly against the polished floor as she turned the corner and saw something that made her heart stop.

There, in the dimly lit hallway, stood Scalvo, his face a mask of grim determination. He was locked in a standoff with two of his men, who were pointing guns at her father and his security detail. Her father’s face was pale, his expression a mix of fear and defiance as he tried to negotiate with the men holding him at gunpoint.

“Scalvo…” Chloé’s voice was barely a whisper, the shock of seeing him there, in that moment, rendering her almost speechless. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing—couldn’t reconcile the man she loved with the one now threatening her family.

Scalvo eyes flicked to her, and in that split second, she saw the torment behind them. He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but there he was, standing on the precipice of an unforgivable act.

The two men with Scalvo exchanged uneasy glances, realizing that things were spiraling out of control. “Come on, dude, let’s get out of here,” one of them urged, his voice tense. “We’ve got what we came for.”

But Scalvo shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving Chloé’s. “No,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “It’s too late. They’ve already seen my face. They know who I am.”

Chloé’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was saying. He wasn’t going to walk away from this—not without consequences. The weight of the situation hit her like a tidal wave, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Scalvo, please…” she begged, stepping forward despite the danger. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt anyone. We can still fix this.”

But before Scalvo could respond, everything happened in a blur. One of the security guards moved, and there was a sharp, deafening crack—gunfire. Chloé screamed as she watched in horror as Scalvo staggered backward, a dark stain spreading across his chest where the bullet had struck him.

“No!” Chloé’s voice was raw with anguish as she rushed to Scalvo’s side, dropping to her knees beside him as he crumpled to the ground. She pressed her hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood just kept coming, slipping through her fingers.

Scalvo’s breaths were shallow, each one a struggle, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and regret as he looked up at her. “Chloé…” he whispered, his voice weak.

“Don’t talk, don’t move,” Chloé sobbed, her hands trembling as she tried to hold him together, tried to keep him with her. “You’re going to be okay, Scalvo, just hold on.”

But deep down, she knew the truth. She could see it in his eyes—the resignation, the acceptance of what was happening. Scalvo reached up with a shaky hand, brushing a tear from her cheek as he tried to offer her a small, sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I wish…things could have been different.”

Chloé choked back a sob, her heart breaking as she watched the light begin to fade from his eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with grief.

Scalvo’s hand fell limp in hers, his chest rising and falling one last time before stillness settled over him. Chloé cried out, the sound of her heart shattering into a million pieces echoing in the cold, empty hallway.

Her father’s security team rushed to her side, trying to pull her away from Scalvo’s lifeless body, but she couldn’t let go. She clung to him, the man she had loved despite everything, the man who had walked away to protect her, only to meet his end in her arms.

And as the reality of what had happened settled over her, Chloé realized that her world had changed forever. There was no going back, no fixing what had been broken. All she had left were the memories of a love that had been doomed from the start, and the hollow ache of a heart that would never be whole again.

***

AN: 😢 let me know your thoughts

[ladylooch]

How Would I? - Nico Hischier

A/N: I am going to be honest and say I am actually nervous to post this. I went back and forth on if I needed to soften this up. Ultimately, I feel it is much better as is. But this is definitely dark, so please read at your own discretion!

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Robbery, assault, broken bones, pregnancy talk, violence. 

“Hi.” I whisper to my husband via FaceTime. My feet gently rock Lucie and I on the rocking chair in her room. Nico smiles excitedly when he sees my face. He is leaning against the brick wall of the Prudential Center. The team is having a Dine with the Devils charity event at the arena. 

“Hi.” Nico murmurs back. “She asleep?”

“Yeah.” I flip the camera so he can see Lucie’s angelic face. She had a big day playing with Lio at an indoor play house, then having pizza for dinner. 

“Good. Her and Lio have fun?”

“So much.” I smile, turning the camera back onto me.

“Cause trouble too?”

“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “They conspired by hiding in the upper slides. Only came out when Emma started yelling at them in Swiss German.” Nico chuckles. “The other parents gave her quite the look.” Emma holding her pregnant belly with each heavy inhale added another layer to the picture. 

“I’m sure.” He sighs, glancing up and giving a polite nod as a group of fans walks by to the locker room for their tour. “I should be home in an hour or so. Things are wrapping up.”

“Sounds good.” I adjust the screen in my hand. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too, babe. See you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.” We pucker our lips for smooches, then click off. “Okay, Luc.” I whisper, then stand. My almost five month bump protrudes out as I maneuver Lucie into her bed. She startles a bit, gripping onto her penguin pillow pet. I back away quietly, then shut the door completely behind me. 

I hold my belly as I walk back down the stairs. I feel so huge this pregnancy. With Lucie, it seemed like I stayed small until the very end when she began gaining a pound a week. But with  this daughter, I’ve been popping since last month. I scratch at the itchy skin around my belly button then head into the kitchen. I finish loading the dishwasher, reaching around for the detergent in the bottom cabinet. I hear the front door open and foot steps on the rug in the entry way. I stand up, closing the dishwasher and pushing the on button.

“Wow, that had to have been record speed.” I say making sure the light turns on for the wash cycle. There is no response. I move to turn around but a hand clasps over my mouth. This is not Nico. Fear jolts through my body and I try to pull away.

“Stop. If you do what I say, you and your daughter won’t be harmed.” It’s a man. A voice I don’t recognize. My heart lurches into my throat. I stiffen. “I am going to release you now. The last thing you want to do is scream. We wouldn’t want your little daughter upstairs to wake up, Mrs. Hischier.”

I can sense he has been watching us. He knows Lucie is asleep. He knows where her room is. He knows who I am. Who Nico is. It’s all panic inducing. The baby kicks against my abdomen as he releases me.

“Go to the table.” He presses something cold to the back of my neck. I have never felt a gun against my skin before, but it sure feels like one. I purse my lips together and slowly move to the dining area. I glance around, looking for a weapon, cursing earlier me that cleaned up the kitchen. The knives are across the kitchen. The vase is too far away to grab. And the very real possibility of a gun being on my neck stops any other thoughts of fighting.

“What do you want?” I ask, surprise at how still my voice is. 

“No questions.” He presses the cool metal even deeper into my skin. The more he talks, the younger he sounds. He rips out one of the dinning room chairs and harshly shoves me down onto it. My stomach bottoms out. The baby kicks harder and I push a hand over her. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant. Otherwise you’d be dead.” My mouth crumbles as he touches my hair. I pull harshly away. “I’m going to tie you up. You’re going to be quiet. I’ll grab what I want and leave. You scream, I take your daughter with me.” 

“Please. Let me go to her room. We’ll stay there together. You can take whatever you want. Please. Just… don’t hurt her.” I am sobbing now, thinking of this man upstairs alone with my daughter sleeping. I feel helpless, incapable of protecting her from the greatest danger.

“Your daughter’s safety depends on your cooperation and yours only. Keep your mouth shut and Nico won’t see your dead bodies when he gets home.”

The way he talks about Nico drips with disdain. A gloved hand comes around, grabbing my wrist and forcing it behind my back. I try to fight against him for the other one, but he yanks down on my shoulder which causes a sharp pain through my shoulder blade. No other words are shared as he duct tapes my feet together. Tape gets slapped over my mouth too. Tears immediately trace over the grey strip.

His retreating footsteps can be heard going up the stairs. I’m stuck. I can’t move the chair. If I tip over, I’ll fall onto the baby. I dig my finger nails into my palm, more tear tracks falling down my cheeks. I listen intently for Lucie. She will scream if he goes in there. I know she will. But no sounds come from upstairs. Nothing except the muted foot steps that I’ll never forget the sound of.

His boots hit the hardwood again. My whole body tenses as I feel him approach from behind. I grit my teeth, trying not to show any fear outwardly. Wanting to swing at him with everything in me and rip his fucking eyes out for invading our home.

“One last thing.” He sneers into my ear, reaching for the wedding bands on my left ring finger. I make a fist, trying to keep them on. “Release or I’ll cut your finger off.” He forces my fingers apart, tugging the rings harshly off. As he is pulling back, I’m able to get my finger nails on him. I press hard then drag, drawing blood. “Bitch!” He grabs the back of my head and throws me to the ground. I land hard on my side. I cringe, feeling the pain shoot through my collarbone. He steps towards me. I turn, looking him dead in his masked face. He stands over me. “All you rich bitches are the same. Ungrateful sluts.” He leans down, grabbing my face, pressing his fingers in. “Should untie you and teach you a lesson.” 

“Dude! Lights are coming down the street! Let’s go!” Someone else yells into the house. 

“Guess I’ll have to come back instead. Maybe on your husband’s next road trip.” He releases my face, stepping over me towards the front door. The voices disappear and the house is quiet again after a click of the front door. His final words hang violently in the air.

I close my eyes, heavy tears running down from my eyes. I pant heavily, struggling to stretch my feet to loosen the tape. I don’t want Nico to find me like this. Every movement makes my chest and shoulder shoot with pain. It isn’t long before the pain is unbearable. I fight back the nausea from it. With the duct tape still on my mouth, I’ll choke If I puke. 

“Nico.” I sob against the stickiness over my mouth. Panic is bubbling up, tightening my throat. I stop fighting, eventually growing still, trying to minimize the damage to myself and the baby by becoming calm. 

I focus on my breathing. I go to the happiest memories I can think of with Nico. I imagine I’m in bed with him in the morning. He is holding me close, placing soft kisses along my face, waking me up from a light sleep. I hear soft baby giggles coming from Lucie as he whispers for her to give me kisses too. It works. The sound of the garage door opening breaks through my safe place. Then the door opens. Nico tosses his keys on the counter. He walks beyond it, shrugging his jacket off.

His gasp rocks my body when he sees me.

“Oh my god, Lex!” He exclaims, his Nike’s slapping the wood floor as he rushes to me. His hands grab my tired hands. I yelp. He stops, then grabs the tape. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my god, baby what happened?!” His brown eyes are wild, mouth dropped open in shock, breathing rapid. “Are you okay?” He reaches down for the baby, then goes back to my hands.

“Don’t pull my hands. I think my collar bone is broken. He gently works my hands apart. Then goes into the kitchen to grab some scissors. When he has me untied, he works me onto my back. 

“Go grab Lucie.” I say. 

“Baby, what happened!”

“Go. Grab. Lucie!” I scream back at him. “Make sure she is okay.” Nico backs up, then runs up the stairs, two at a time, barreling into her room.

“It’s daddy, baby. It’s okay. Just daddy. Let’s go help mommy.” He comes back into view, holding her close to him. His eyes meet mine and his face distorts in pain. He brings Lucie to the couch, then comes back to me.

“Call the police. Someone broke in, tied me up, and took who knows what. All I know for sure is they took my wedding rings.” I hold my hand up, Nico looks at the vacant space. A darkness I’ve never seen before crosses over his features. “Can you help me sit up?” I give him my good arm, then sit up with his help. I run my hand over the baby, anxious to feel her move. Nico watches as he pulls his phone out.

“Hi, I need to report a break in… and um, they hurt my wife.” He is stuttering, barely able to form English words.

The police come. EMTs too. They want me to go to the hospital for x-rays and and an ultrasound for the baby. Nico scours through the video systems we have, including the baby monitor. No one entered Lucie’s room after I did, which is a relief. It also makes it difficult to give a description of the suspect because they cut the wires leading to our security system. The police believe with the quickness of the break in and the retelling of my story that they had been casing the house. They waited for me to put Lucie to sleep. For Nico to be gone. For me to be at my most vulnerable. 

Nico’s fingers gripped mine so tight when the police officer said that, I had to make him let go.

The x-ray confirm my collarbone is broken. They put me in a sling and schedule me for a follow up appointment next week. I can’t take pain killers; they tell me to monitor my Advil intake because of the baby.

It is hours before we return home. Nico’s car pulls up to the house, but it looks different. Dangerous and dark in the early morning hours.

“We are moving.” Nico says as he walks behind me in the garage with Lucie in his arms. “You are not staying here without me. Every time I am gone, you are leaving too.”

“Nico.” I sigh. 

“No Lex. He told you he would be back. I’m not willing to take that chance. Do not argue with me on this.” He shuts the door behind him. “I already sent a text to Steve in hockey ops. He’s grabbing us a place in Hoboken while we search for a new house. We will move into Timo and Emma’s gated community.”

“But this is our home.” I start to cry. He brings Lucie to the couch, then engulfs me into his chest, careful of my sling. He presses kisses along my head, then tilts my face so he can kiss my lips. “This is where we said we would bring all our babies home from the hospital. Where they would take their first steps. And grow up. And be in a safe place. They took that from us tonight!”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

Holding me isn’t going to make any of this better, but he tries as hard as he can.

- - -

Nico watches Lexi and Lucie sleep next to him later that night. Lexi is propped up on pillows, the elbow of her broken collar bone supported by them too. To Nico, she looks fragile, with a sling and a growing belly.  He reaches out for her bump, then skims that same hand along Lucie’s head where she sleeps cuddled into her baby sister. 

He’s tried to fall asleep numerous times already, but he can’t.

He is fiercely angry.

Angry that someone robbed his house. Irate that some piece of shit hurt his wife. Poisoned by the visual of his pregnant wife tied up and in pain. Terror still fills his veins on what he imagined he would see of their daughter as he ran up the stairs. 

All these images and emotions run through his mind. He can’t let it go. The police officers had been gentle yet realistic that they may never find the people who did this. 

Fine, then Nico would. If they can’t do their job, he’ll hire someone better. The best money can buy. He’d bring investigators from Switzerland. He didn’t care. He was going to fucking find them.

None of the cameras in the neighborhood caught them. Yet, they were able to pull DNA from under Lexi’s nails of whoever tied her up. That was enough for him. Nico wants five minutes in a room with him to do permanent damage. He understands now how people can be capable of murder.

Him and Lex should have never picked this house. They had other options that provided a security presence, but they thought they were safe. Well, now he knew better. He should have been a better father and husband by forcing the gated community house.

Lexi stirs again her pillows, letting out a soft groan. Nico reaches out for her face, brushing her cheek lightly with his thumb.

“I need something.” She gulps down a tentative sip of water. “Can I take Advil yet?” Nico looks at the time on his watch sitting on the bedside table.

“Yeah, sweets. I’ll be right back.” He gently leaves the bed, careful not to rustle Lexi or Lucie. Their daughter immediately stretches her little feet out to take over his side of the bed. Normally he hates her feet against his back because she kicks him throughout the night. Tonight, it’s everything to him.

Nico comes back to Lexi with two Advil. She sits up to take it with Nico’s help. He rubs her back, anger intensifying at every flicker of pain on her body.

“Baby, I am going to find who did this.” He whispers to his wife. “They’re going to pay for this.”

“Neeks…” Lexi murmurs back, reaching for his face with her good hand. She strokes his skin, eyes wary with worry. Nico looks back at her, gaze hard, until he loses it completely. He drops his gaze to her belly when he feels the tears.

“I almost lost my whole world tonight.” Lexi sniffs because she is crying too. “How would I live without you, baby?” Lexi shakes her head, not sure what to say to her husband. 

Gradually, with Lexi’s guidance, Nico lays his head into her lap. His nose presses into their growing baby while Lucie’s hand twitches against his hair. Lexi and Nico join hands on her bump.

The room is silent. The heavy thoughts of their night hanging over them. 

Lexi finally gets Nico to sleep by gently stroking his hand, continuously murmuring to him that she’s still here.

[superbellsubways]

robor lore time

Showbitz and Heartbreaker stuff (+ a bit of their creator) ↓

Lets start off with their creator (🙄) Their creator is a young, sad, lonely man named Dennis who spends most of his time indoors working on his own projects and lounging about. He had originally gone to school to become a doctor but instead took more interest in robotics. After graduation, he found a place and experimented with his newfound passion. Bitz would be the first of his bots to be considered a success.

as mentioned in the reference, Bitz was built with the purpose of dealing with heavyweight items and disposing of useless things/trash (crushing with his teeth). During his free time (when not having any orders given to him) he would watch tv or browse the Internet. He learned about the outside world and everything it had to offer this way, and soon he realized he wanted to see it for himself. However, his creator would not allow this in fear that he would get damaged or cause harm in some way. But of course, this wouldn't stop him from trying!

At some point, Dennis ends up building a housekeeper bot to help keep the place tidy and such. Soon enough she and Bitz became acquainted with eachother, and would hang out with eachother more and more on their breaks 😁 with Bitz showing her his favorite things to watch and look at.

Ok ok Fast forward a bit. The two bots both decide they want to run away to see the outside world. They pack up some supplies (including money they had stolen from Dennis lol) and find a way to leave while he was out for errands, it was the perfect opportunity!. They trainhop a few times till they finally reach close to the big city (very far from their home).

Here, they would try their best to figure themselves out and what they want to do (along with trying to get a roof over their heads of course). Days pass and their hopes start to dwindle, until suddenly out of the blue, they get asked to be apart of an ongoing tv show, and immediately take up the offer as long as it provided them with a safe place to stay. Bitz would end up becoming the new host for a popular game show (the show having a robot host as it's main gimmick) with the housekeeper bot (now known as Heartbreaker) as his assistant.

Now, you must be wondering "wow Mari this doesn't really explain why Bitz is the way he is now!" "Why is he passive aggressive nowadays?" "Does Bitz kill people" bear with me Ok.

At some point early into his career he ends up having his trust broken by a Certain Someone. This ordeal causes him to snap and hold a huge grudge towards them. Overtime he would start experiencing hatred for literally anyone he finds even the slightest bit of irritating, including a few of his own contestants or audience members (essentially he becomes corrupt, a Huge Hater, and develops anger issues LOL. You know the "are you tired of being nice don't you just want to go ape shit" meme yea thats basically what's happening).

One day he thought to himself "well why don't I just get rid of these people?" (which would be just. ya know. killing them. crazy i know. but at this point he really doesn't care!). He uses Heartbreaker to do the dirty work for him (hunting them down hitman style) while they're not on the air. She does not mind doing the job, as she does not feel much empathy towards people she doesn't know personally Especially humans (not to mention she also knows how to clean up once its done haha).

Anyways the fame from his show starts getting to Bitz's dumb robot head, which leads to him becoming more egotistical, to the point where he's practically obsessed with himself! He wants everyone to focus on him and him only, it's what he craves most. He would do anything to be the center of attention.

and that's kinda all I have left to say for now. I do plan to draw a few things I purposely left out + things i mentioned here in the future. I also want to make another post about the other bots at some point. Kudos to anyone that was cool enough to read through this dumb thing. thanks

[refuse2analyze]

homeless, help needed - offering various commissions

i havent been in/active in the art community for a while, and to be honest my return is for selfish reasons. i had to unexpectedly pack up and leave my home due to my bad family situation becoming significantly worse in the beginning of this year. so, i’ve been homeless since march. i’ll add the TLDR of my story towards the bottom of this if anybody wants it, but for now i’ll cut to the chase :p

cashapp: $uluvrory / venmo: circusfool / ask for zelle (unfortunately my paypal got hacked and i simply do not have the mental capacity to deal with that rn)

because of my desperate situation, i’m doing name your price commissions, as low as $5. of course the quality of the art will match the amount paid, which is why i’ll do anything ranging from a traditional sketch to a digital painting.

if you’re a real kind heart i would greatly appreciate any kind of donations, though i’d feel guilty not repaying the favor with at least a doodle

i have a general idea of what prices will amount to what kind of art, so dm me what you’re willing to pay and we can discuss!

since im still setting up my tumblr again, more examples are on my instagram of the same username! not currently logged in, though -> my situation below

this is a very summarized story, and i’ll refrain much information for safety purposes. certain family i lived with was known to mistreat members of our family. her biggest punching bags have 1. died 2. left due to her treatment. so i became her biggest target

she was supportive of my lgbt identity, until i came out as trans. currently i find the most comfort being unlabeled in every aspect of my identity, but at the time, i came out as trans, and discovered that this was not a safe space anymore.

things worsened at home, and i was practically only there to sleep due to fear and anxiety. being out daily from sunrise to night was miserable, being put in very uncomfortable and unsafe situations, which would absolutely have been worse if i didnt have a place to sleep.

i was told i cannot be out of the house like that, and i had to stay indoors, not allowed to isolate from her, or i had to leave. given how unsafe i felt around her and in that house at all, the only answer i felt i had was to leave. i knew it was going to have to happen since i initially moved with her at 15, i just didn’t expect it to have to happen so fast (i was 19 at the time, now 20)

i moved in with a friend’s dad. but unfortunately he lived in a filthy house with black mold all over the walls and vents of each room, all kinds of bug infestations, floor covered with garbage, and about 20 people (give or take), many on drugs, with constant fighting and violence. on top of that, her dad is a very scary guy, who knows my dad, a very scary guy, both in gangs and unpredictable due to their drug usage.

while here each paycheck went to clothing since my stuff was stolen on the daily (including expensive things, like my nintendo switch. man.) i had to leave that place unexpectedly and so the only items i took with me were what i had on my person when i went to work, and i had to rebuy everything from scratch (clothing, hygiene items, underwear, socks…)

after that i was floating around and as of recently i’ve been staying at a youth shelter! ive made it so far on my own, but my savings is getting pretty dry, and my minimum wage work is only giving me 8-12 hours per week, which is very hard to live off of. im frantically looking for other jobs, but its been a month with very little luck

i hope this post doesnt come across as too pity-seeking. any kind of assistance is so appreciated!!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Watercolor and Daisie

warning : fluff, mutual feelings, comfort, tiny angst, older man younger women, no use of Y/N, reader is female

Van Helsing x fem!reader

Summary : It was just supposed to be a quick purchase for his watercolours. But when he sees the lovely saleswoman, as pretty and innocent as a Daisie. But the tables turn as night falls and he fears for his flower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a coincidental encounter in the big city, but it was an encounter that would change the lives of both of them. London is one of the great cities of the world - risky, loud, modern and full of people and mysteries.

Whether Jack The Ripper or just the moving shadows, they all found their place in London. Also a creature of immortality, of bloodthirst of which only a handful of people knew. Dr. Van Helsing was one of them.

The vampire hunter with his dark coat, the expensive fur collar and the white shirt, which was set off by his dark blood-red vest. A handsome, engaging, perhaps mysterious man. A man with many sides, his good kind ones and his strong ones like his will.

He was firmly convinced that he would send the creature back to hell. Eliminating the threat of London. His way led him through the streets of London the lanterns were not yet lit and yet the sun was slowly setting in the sky.

It bathed the city in a golden colour and illuminated everything like a canvas on which the colours spread. In it he moved purposefully towards the small art shop where he hoped to get new colours. His last painting, a small farm with a cow and blue flowers, had used more paint than he had intended.

Letting his gaze wander through the street, only a handful of people came towards him, most of them staying indoors at an increasingly late hour. But he knew that the more time that passed, the better it would be for Dracula.

Shaking his head slightly as he thought again of the horrors he had encountered, he tried to focus back on his colours. Reaching the shop after a few moments and stepping inside, the small silver bell sounded its announcement.

A more rustic shop appeared, finely crafted wooden shelves and dark velvet curtains together with the chandelier created a pleasant atmosphere. His bright blue eyes travelled around the shop and landed on the various smaller golden signs.

The various art materials were written in fine script. ,,Sir, can I help you?" a female voice sounded and his attention went to the young woman standing behind the counter.

She herself was looking up from a smaller canvas standing next to her, which appeared to be the one she had been painting a few minutes ago. ,,I'm looking for watercolours, Miss," he replied, giving her a gentle smile as she nodded and walked around the counter. He knew she didn't have to, but apparently she valued customer service.

Walking over to him and making a welcoming motion, she led him past the marked shelves before they arrived in front of the watercolour section. ,,Thank you, my dear," he said gratefully, giving her a grateful, almost knowing look as she stopped in front of him for almost a moment too long.

Her eyes were on him for a moment almost too long, running over him and hardening on his leather gloves for a moment too long. ,,You're welcome to call me if you need any help," she said hastily, giving him one last friendly look as she headed back to her counter. Running his fingers over some of the products, he picked out the colours he needed and went back to her, satisfied.

He saw her smile effusively at him and he couldn't help but compare her to a pretty Daisie. The pretty and innocent, pure white petals and the bright cheerful yellow inside.

She was cute, he thought. ,,I hope you found everything?" she asked as she put the items into a small bag and accepted the money he had taken from his wallet. ,,Yes I did, thank you, you have a really nice shop Miss, I will definitely come to you again," he said goodbye and took the bag.

He briefly saw sadness flash in her eyes as he turned away. Walking to the door, however, he stopped in the doorway and turned to her once more. ,,What time do you close?" he asked more seriously and with a hint of concern.

She looked surprised for a moment and replied cautiously, ,,At nine o'clock at night. Do you want to come here again?" she asked but saw his brief shake of the head before he gave her a reassuring look.

Tried to ease the worry he had caused her and was relieved that it worked before he closed the door behind him and disappeared into the dark streets. Time had passed faster than he had thought, the sun had disappeared in the sky and he could already see the moon slowly rising.

Putting the small bag in his dark leather doctor's bag and already a few streets away from the shop he saw that he had forgotten his wallet. It seems I have to go to the lovely Daisie he thought and turned around to walk back towards the shop.

He had only gone a few metres when he heard a scream, bright and feminine. Immediately he felt his intuition. Told him it had to do with her. Running back the way he came as fast as he could, he reached into his pocket and felt the cross in his fingers before continuing down the path.

To his worry, he saw that the door was hanging by its hinges, almost as if someone or something had ripped it out. But he knew exactly who it was, knew what monster would be in the shop. ,,Get away from her, you monster!" he demanded, raising his cross in front of him as he stormed into the shop.

He saw Dracula bending over the woman's body, her hands pressed against his chest as she tried to free herself from the monster. It was clear that she had not succeeded, but what worried him was the blood hanging from the monster's mouth.

Dracula hissed at him, but the deepest night had not yet fallen. Van Helsing saw the godless creature looking out and then trying to escape the cross.

He was several woods and colours after the vampire hunter before the vampire fled out the door and into the night. Van Helisng rushed after him but as he looked out he realised he would not catch him. A painfully frightened sound pulled him back to the woman.

He saw her trying to hold herself upright against one of the cupboards and not fall over because of the lack of blood. ,,Calm down my dear, everything will be alright" he told her but saw only a faint tired look before he gently and carefully as possible took her and lifted her up in bridal style. ,,Do you have your quarters here too?" he asked her, concern in his blue eyes as he saw her blood flowing lightly down her neck, covering both her clothes and the floor.

She looked more emaciated, more tired and weaker yet still lovely carefully he put two fingers to her neck. A weak but steady pulse he noted mentally before he heard her whisper, ,,In the back room, the stairs" she said so softly he was afraid she would die of blood loss. Looking around with her in his arms he saw the door she was talking about.

He saw that the room around the stairs was used for storage but the steel stairs lead up. ,,We're almost there my dear," he murmured and closed the door behind him before he began to walk up the stairs, careful not to bump into her. Walking up the stairs he found himself in a small but pretty flat.

The walls were covered with pictures of every kind - small, big, round - everything was there. Going to her bed and gently putting her down, he immediately took care of her. Opening his bag and taking out the hand pump, he looked around for a bowl of water.

Finding it only moments later, he washed his hands but kept his gaze on her. He was afraid she might faint. Even though her eyes were closed, he saw that she was still there, with him.

Pulling out a chair next to her bed and sitting down on it, he grabbed a simple white cloth at the same time. ,,Don't be alarmed," he said reassuringly and dabbed away the slightly liquid blood still flowing from the wound with the cloth.

He saw her wince in pain and soothingly stroked her slightly trembling one with his free hand. ,,I'm here, everything will be all right, Miss," he said and dabbed the cloth in alcohol he had in his pocket over the wound, ,,Shhh, don't, but everything will be all right," he admonished himself lovingly and continued to stroke her hand, trying to take away the pain as best he could. Before he had cleaned and stopped most of the blood with the cloth.

Reaching into his pocket again he took out the pump and desinfected the two needles at the ends. ,,S-Sir I-I what was that creature?" she murmured, watching her fingers tremble with fear and her eyes show fear.

Fear that she was corrupted by the evil that could haunt her, had haunted her and was only prevented by him. The handsome stranger she didn't even know the name of.

Soothingly stroking her fingers, trying to give her his warmth, he replied, ,,A vampire my pretty a godless creature of the night. A creature that feeds on the blood of the living". Saw her close her eyes for a moment in fear, processing the information she had received from him.

Seeming overwhelmed and yet somehow understanding that it was not human, a creature of evil. ,,Thank you...so much," she thanked him and tried to sit up but was gently pushed back onto the bed by the older man. ,,It wasn't just my duty to help such a beautiful, talented woman has to be helped," he said with a smile and pointed to the various pictures hanging in the room.

He saw the little smile that came to her lips as she watched her work and was pleased that he acknowledged her paintings, praised and appreciated them. She hardly noticed the picks that followed as he stuck the needles of the pumps into her arm, she was too busy talking about her artwork.

The different methods she used from watercolour to oil and aquarelle, even pastel chalk could be found in some of her works. As his blood ran into her bloodstream, he watched her, listening to her excited and full of life despite her condition.

As he watched his blood flow into hers through the two rubber tubes, he couldn't help but feel a slight warmth on his cheeks. The gesture had a certain intimacy that he had only just begun to feel.

A few minutes later, he gently took the needles out of his arm and hers and pressed a cloth on her wound until it stopped bleeding before doing the same to himself. ,,You should rest for a few more days and you will regain your strength," he ordered and gradually packed his things carefully and gently. He saw how she seemed to realise what this meant and would have disappeared long ago.

But when he suddenly felt her gentle fingers on his, he paused and saw her look full of pleading as she asked, ,,But I am so terribly afraid, can't you stay with me until tomorrow?". He looked at the ticking clock on the wall, there were still a few hours until the safe morning. Besides, a gentleman would never leave a woman in need, especially not a pretty flower.

Putting his bag aside and wrapping his warm fingers around hers, he pointed to a small landscape painting. ,,Did you paint this?" he asked the obvoius, pleased that she immediately responded. Like a pretty flower in bloom, she excitedly told him about the painting and how she had been on holiday in the Alps.

She had seen them and it was so beautiful. But that's how they spent the next few hours, talking about her paintings and little trips she saved up for and sold the rest of her paintings with a heavy heart.

In return he told her with joy about his researches, his journeys and his fights. Was only more pleased that she found it fascinating how he worked and with what.

By the end of the night, as the clocks chimed again and again, she had fallen asleep in his arms, even snuggling lightly against him as he still gently stroked her fingers and watched her sleeping still form. Knowing that he now had more than one reason to come back to her shop and not only for colour. Perhaps also for the reason of love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@villainsidechick and @fanfic-she-wrote I thought you two might wanna read it since you two seems to be the only ones here that are blogging/writing/posting for Peter Cushing and his charcters

[fio-renze]

<<We’ve been instructed to teleport the city. Leyline array shows destination SE of Kalimdor and E of Pandaria. Spool up will take ~45min.>>

That was all she needed to hear, really. Part of her wanted to simply be in the city when it moved — she had never experienced it before, and there was something thrilling about the sheer magical might it would take to transport the island and all its inhabitants halfway across the world. Then the Radiant Song shrieked in her mind, sending a lance of pain, fear, hope and desperation through her core and Fiorenze knew that being in the city was part of something bigger. 

She grabbed her camp kit and shoved it into her enchanted travel bag before giving Rue a smooch on the head. Pyraelia’s house in Eversong had been home for such a short time, and once Dalaran had settled her sister would be back here by the morning to take care of her if Talon’s orders came through to muster. 

Her hand wrapped around the smooth bark on her newly grown staff and she exhaled slowly before tracing the teleportation rune for Dalaran in the air, a glowing thread of arcane following in the wake — and in the space of a blink she was transported, the familiar smooth limestone and violet trappings of the visitor center filled her vision. 

She stepped out into the street and messaged her sister back, <<Here. Are you staying in your archive?>>

The chances of Pyraelia getting back to her quickly were slim, no doubt she was having to delegate work to her assistants to keep all the scrolls and tomes safe in her archive before stepping in to help with the great relocation spell. Fiorenze smiled wryly to herself as she walked through the street, pushing past Kirin Tor mages and civilians trying to get their last minute preparations handled. 

Her little sister wore responsibility better than she ever had — and for causes much greater than anyone in their family could have championed. 

“Ma’am?”  

Fiorenze flicked a long thalassian ear and spared a smile for the weary shopkeeper who had addressed her. The human woman’s face lit up to match, glad she’d been heard, “Would you mind helping us? The teleportation order… Last time we had a wine rack shift and we lost a bunch of inventory. I’d be more than happy to part with a few bottles as payment!” 

Who was she to say no to that? 

They made small talk while Fiorenze grew some vines to help keep the rack cabinet doors securely shut. This was her only shop, but her older sister had a similar one on the other side of the city. They didn’t own a vineyard themselves, but collected bottles from all over the world. Dalaran — and all her cosmopolitan travelers — had been kind to them over the years. Between the two of them it was quick enough work, and the proprietress wished her well as they parted. 

<<Yes, we’re the keepers of one of the conduits. In casies:>> A picture came through with the message, a diagram of the city with escape portals clearly marked. <<ETA 2 min. Find a spot to hang out with a roof and walls! Or not, I guess, you can be a bird now if something goes weird, right?>> 

She could, and she desperately did not want to be indoors for this. The evacuation points were the same as they always were, and she smiled as she shot back a reply, <<Appreciate you. I’ll be alright, don’t worry about me.>>

The minutes stretched on for what felt like eons, but she — and everyone else around her — gasped as they felt the upwelling of arcane beneath their feet. Great glowing lattices of runes raced across the flagstones and up the towers. There was an overwhelming rush of power, so deliciously concentrated. Would she ever feel anything like this again? The way it thrummed beneath her feet almost made her understand what her parents, and their parents before them on and on up the ancestral tree, had been chasing. 

In an instant it was over. Motes of arcane residue drifted down and dissipated into nothing as the city settled into its new space under an early evening sky. Halfway across the world in a split second. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

Thousands of void-dark portals cleaved the calm air, spilling Nerubian horrors in a torrent. Eldritch spiders swarmed up the great towers in a chittering mass that was rapidly drowned out by the screams of the citizens who were now having to fight for their lives. There was a great, shattering quake and the groaning cacophony of stone being sundered above her. She gripped her staff tighter and ran, dodging and weaving past a growing tide of people fleeing. 

Perhaps it was fate to see familiar faces. Xylaes and Stellan clashed with a gigantic, beetle-like hulk that cracked the ground beneath it wherever it stepped. Its wings flared as it roared in pain, the two men were experts in combat — and this was the street where they lived and worked. Ending the threats here came naturally. Xylaes shifted in a nimble dodge to get out of the way of one of those too-heavy legs. There wasn’t any time to say anything, but the look he gave her was enough to convey a clear and resonant ‘get the fuck out of here’. 

The hulk collapsed then, and they diverged. Stellan and Xylaes turned to clash with a spindly, orb-shaped weavemancer. She shifted shape and flew. Falcons were more nimble, and she was able to effortlessly bank and weave past the skittering swarmites that were descending on the city streets. The higher up she got, the more it became chillingly apparent that this was a coordinated assault. 

Her gaze immediately went to what had once been the Sunmote Tower — her family’s home here for nearly a century. Pyraelia’s final renovation before they’d sold it months ago had been to add an entire floor of glass windows as a conservatory. It glittered in the sunlight as all the panes broke out at once, giving way as the central pillar fractured and crashed down to the ground in a great cloud of dust. 

She tucked in her wings and rocketed toward it. There were people in that district, in the other homes around the base. One of the emergency portals would be nearby. Someone had to help. 

Finding a clear spot to set back down was nearly impossible. The rubble of what had once been her stately home covered a large swathe, but the living quarters had stayed mostly intact. Fiorenze crouched low and hid behind a jagged chunk of balcony, waiting, listening. Cries of agony ebbed eerily in the tide of discordant magic and the thrum of arcane defense. There was a distant part of her that knew that she’d hear that in her nightmares for centuries to come. If she stayed still any longer there was a risk she’d freeze and — 

“Help!” 

It was the faintest of cries, just beyond and below her perch, inside what was left of the tower. 

“Help me! Please! Anybody!” 

She scrambled over the balcony, looking for any access. This had been her balcony, and the more her hands clawed stone away the more it revealed pockets of entry into what was left of the collapsed bedroom she had known and loved. 

Fiorenze slipped down through a crack big enough to allow her and landed in the dark, her eyes adjusting to the low light as she blinked through the still settling dust. 

There Director Aradana Mirthstar was, trapped and bleeding under a collapsed section of the ceiling — staring at her with wide eyes and rapt terror. 

This was no longer a rescue. 

Aradana Mirthstar had tried to kill her. Aradana Mirthstar had bought her family home. Aradana Mirthstar was a pest, an annoying little mystery. 

“Fiorenze! Thank the stars!” 

She slid carefully down the banked tile floor until she was closer to the Quel’dorei woman, “Who gave you the order to kill me, Aradana?” 

Aradana’s face couldn’t get any paler, and whatever plea she was about to continue immediately silenced, “This isn’t the time. Please, free me and I’ll tell you everything.” 

Fiorenze’s charming, diplomatic mask slid into place, full of warmth and good intentions, “Tell me while I figure out how to get this off of you without hurting you more.” She made every effort to seem helpful, checking the edges of the slab to see where it could be lifted. 

There was another great rumble and everything shifted. Rubble and dust rained and Aradana’s body was crushed just a little more, “Faster, please,” she gave a shuddering little sigh and dug her nails into the stone below her as if to pull herself forward. Nothing budged. “… Director Embercrown. He heard the Grand Magister was setting you up to take his place.” 

Rommath had implied he was on the road to retirement. Forced, perhaps. How curious. She settled down next to the erstwhile double agent, thoughts racing under the gauze of shock and sheer instinct to get out of this dangerous place that could — and would — continue to collapse. Her fingers threaded through Aradana’s golden hair, “Thank you for your honesty.” 

They had been friends of a sort once, many decades ago when they were both fighting for notoriety. The ceiling she was trapped under was, truthfully, the only thing keeping her alive. Pressure on a great wound. Aradana was dying and didn’t realize it. Was it better to tell her? Was it better to let her go with hope? 

She didn’t get a choice. 

Another collapse nearby shifted everything again, just enough for the great chunk of rock to lift up enough that it gave Aradana immediate relief. Her eyes lit up, reality set in, and she laughed in a desperate, plaintive sort of way before going still. 

Fiorenze looked up at where she had come in — the hole that was supported by half of the door frame had gotten smaller. It didn’t matter. She had to go. 

She traced her teleportation rune in the air again, putting faith in the integrity of the city. She opened her eyes and swung her staff at the Nerubian guard that lunged for her when she materialized outside the Visitor Center. A city guard grabbed her from behind and shoved her toward the stairs that lead toward Krasus’ Landing, covering her retreat. 

Warbled, arcane warning messages warbled through the chaos, too damaged to fully convey their message but managing to do so in the most effective way even still, “Evacuate.” 

She ran through the next available portal with people she’d never seen before, only to land on an unfamiliar beach. They all turned their eyes to the sky as a growling peal of thunder rolled out in the middle of a nearly cloudless sunset, and observed as a roiling gloom engulfed the center of the city. 

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears and the growing knot of tension in her stomach dropped as Dalaran exploded. Fragments of rock and arcane crystal hung in the violet sky for a second that felt like eons. 

Screams shook her out of her stupor, and for good reason. The force of the explosion was sending that debris rocketing their way. There wasn’t any time to stop, panic or mourn. She had to find cover and find it fast, but one extremely important thought was on her mind:

Where was Pyraelia?

@xylaes / @inistellan / @themercenaries

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 2

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader/soft oc

Previous chapter

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Merry drags you and Pippin on an adventure as an apology for the panic attack their dare caused you days before. Halfway there, Pippin decides to turn back, leaving you and Merry alone. After smoking some pipe-weed, the conversation turns a little bit deeper, when you discuss things you have never talked about before, and getting more close to each other.

I want to say something before you start reading the second chapter of this fanfic. I hope you can still feel like you're a part of the story, even thought it is a soft oc. I prefer giving characters some qualities (reader's height, fears and personality traits for example) and backstories when writing, and personally I prefer when I can escape to a story, where I am a little bit different from my usual self.

I also want to point out that this story obviously has and will have some differences to canon events, and I will be mixing up some things from the books and movies, and other stuff from my own head.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this next part of 'daisies'!

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For the few days following the incident at the river, you mostly stayed in your own bedroom, every now and then getting something to eat from the kitchen. Frodo showed some concern, but knowing your need for space, he decided to let it slide. You were still shaken up by the panic attack, trying to avoid anything that could trigger one again.

Pippin and Merry did not take long to realize that you had been distancing yourself at home for more than a day. Normally you would already be at least on a walk, where one of them would run into you. They decided to visit Bag End to drag you out of the bed by force.

"No! You're not allowed to stay indoors any longer!" Pippin exclaimed and started to pull you out of bed. Merry was biting his nails. You groaned and made your body limp, so it would be harder to pull you away from under the comfort of your blanket. "You have been indoors for over a day already, and we all know how easily you distance yourself. Get up, Baggins!"

"We promised you some pipe-weed, didn't we?" Merry says, his arms crossed, looking at you. His eyes revealed just how guilty he was feeling about pushing your boundaries at the river. Pippin tended to feel more guilty, but never showed it to anyone but Merry.

"Is there any way you would just let me have some space for one more day?" you asked, already knowing their answer. Merry shook his head and bluntly declined your request. Finally, the two managed to pull you out of bed, and you rushed them out of your bedroom for some privacy. 

You went through your closet for quite some time, trying to decide between a few different dresses, your fingers gently rubbing the different kinds of fabrics to see if any of them would make you feel slightly more comfortable in your skin. You settled on a sage green dress, made of a material so soft and light that you could barely feel it on. You slipped the dress on, and unlike usual, decided to skip a corset, just to make sure no piece of clothing made you feel any more uncomfortable.

You made your way down the hall, where Merry and Pippin had made themselves at home and were chatting up with your brother, laughing about some private joke of their own. You passed the small mirror that was hanging on the wall in the hallway, glancing at it and smiling to yourself. You thought about the small gesture of comfort Merry had provided you by putting your favorite flower sneakily behind your ear. 

You entered the kitchen, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, nervous about leaving the house, while knowing it was the best decision for you. 

"Glad to see you up on your feet again!" Frodo said cheerfully, his smile gentle and wide. Merry put his arm around you, squeezing you firmly.

"We couldn't let her stay in any longer. Who knows how long she would've stayed indoors!" Merry said. "It was the pipe-weed that finally got her out of the bed. I fear our friend has an addiction," he continued teasingly. You gave Merry a soft, playful smack on his shoulder, making him chuckle. 

"We actually got something better for you, as an apology," Pippin said and handed you a small leather pouch. "It's Old Toby. We know you prefer it."

Smiling, you accepted the apology, immediately inhaling some of the sweet smell of the leaves through the leather. Frodo shook his head at this sight, taking a sip of his tea.

"So, do you want to smoke it now?" Merry said, hoping you would share some of it with him and Pippin. You gave him a nod, trying not to act too enthusiastic about getting to taste some of the sweetness of the pipe-weed soon. You then saw Merry's eyes shift slightly to the left from your eyes. One corner of his mouth curled up a little, making you turn around to see what he was grinning at. There seemed to be nothing amusing behind you, so you figured he had to be happy about your agreement to go have a smoke.

It was a cold day in the Shire. You were wrapped up in your long coat, arms crossed, slightly shivering. Merry seemed to be in his element, enjoying the cold spring breeze. Pippin on the other hand, was shaking and whimpering, not wearing enough layers. You were walking on the damp ground, wet grass getting between your toes. Merry was leading the way to a place, that in his words, was 'something very special indeed.'

"How much further?" you asked, wrapping your coat more firmly around your figure. Pippin lifted his head up, lips quivering as he looked at his best friend, hoping for an answer that would be no less than ten minutes.

"An hour," Merry said calmly, looking over his shoulder at the two of you. Pippin stopped in his tracks, shaking his head. 

"No, I will not," Pippin said determined, his voice trembling from the cold. He turned around and lifted his hand up to wave goodbye, without even looking back. "Too far. No. I need to get something warm around me. Maybe ten thousand blankets. Enjoy your trip to whatever he thinks this suffering is worth!" Pippin cried, and as he walked he kept muttering to himself, long after he was no longer in the hearing distance.

"Well, more Old Toby for us," you smirked, slightly shaking from the wind. Merry smiled softly at your comment, turning his face back forward to where you two were walking. "I do feel cold though, Merry."

"Trust me, it's going to be worth it," Merry reassured you, giving you a confident look. Your eyes narrowed slightly, trying to decide whether to believe him or not. Merry took notice of your analyzing look. "I am not lying, and you're going to thank me when we arrive there, I assure you."

It took you and Merry less than an hour of walking, when he suddenly came to a halt. There was a cornfield opening in front of you. The stalks of them were a faint green, their length tall, forcing you to tilt your head all the way back if you wanted to see their highest points. Their growth was dense, making it seem like a too narrow path to pass. You lifted your eyebrow at Merry, your arms crossed as you were trying to wrap the thick coat tighter around you. Your coat covered you almost all the way to your ankles, as you were shorter than an average hobbit.

"Merry, why are we standing in front of a cornfield?" you asked. Merry looked at you, amused at your puzzled expression. His answer was a simple nod towards the cornfield. He started making his way through the first rows of the green stalks, his right side first and arms spread wide. With a loud exhale, you followed him. 

It was so densely grown, you could not move without at least one cornstalk touching your clothes, or messing up your hair. Every now and then Merry would tell you to duck, as there were some badly grown stalks bending downward. You followed his path for five minutes without saying anything out loud. Then Merry stopped walking, and you followed his example, stopping immediately. 

"Just a few rows forward," he said, smiling confidently, clearly trying to act all mysterious. He took one step, before you grabbed his shoulder to stop him from going any further.

"Would you just please explain to me why we are in the middle of a cornfield?" you asked, feeling slightly frustrated from the cold, your feet irritated by the dirt you were standing on. 

"Look, just trust me," Merry said and gestured to you to walk first. "M'lady," he snickered in a teasing tone. You decided to oblige, making your way through the last few thick rows of corn.

The bright daylight hit your face the second you had gone through where Merry guided you, making you squint your eyes. Your eyes had gotten used to the dimness of the field and the sudden exposure startled you. When you got used to the sudden flash of light, you could see that you were standing in a small opening. There was a large rock in the middle. It was rough and firm on the ground, and it was even taller than the corns were at their highest. The grey sky was solid behind it, as you gazed up, trying so hard to see the top of the large stone.

"Now we climb," Merry said as he appeared from behind you. He went up to the rock, placing his grassy feet on some of the rough edges of it. His hands gripped confidently on the solid stone under him, as he turned his gaze to you, questioning why you were not following him yet. "Well, come on!" he rushed. 

"I don't think I can climb, Merry," you responded, still shivering under your coat. "My hands are so cold. I can't feel a thing."

Merry hopped back down on the ground, walking towards you. He took your freezing, pale and delicate hands in his. He placed them firmly between the palms of his hands, rubbing them to provide some warmth. He lifted them to the same level as his face, placing his lips close to your skin, breathing some warm air from his lungs on your hands. Soon the feeling started to return to your hands, but Merry kept going, wanting to make sure they would not freeze back up.

"Is that better, my lady?" Merry said teasingly, still some tenderness in his tone. 

You chuckled softly, giving him a thankful smile. "Yes, thank you."

"Now, are you ready to climb?" he asked, already walking towards the rock. 

You followed his every step, trusting he knew his way up there better than you ever could. You truly did not want to slip down, even though a part of you was even suspicious it might have been a part of a long term prank that Merry had planned. The rock was cold beneath the bottom of your feet, and the air was more chilly the higher you got. 

It was a fast climb, and Merry soon offered his hand to pull you up. You took his hand, and he pulled you up with a firm grip. And the second you got to the top of the rock, you realized why Merry had wanted to come to this spot for a smoke.

The field opened up all around you, seeming like there were endless rows of beautiful greenery growing. The wind was cold, but beautifully it was softly blowing and making the corn, which was in its early stage of growth, dance like waves. It made you forget all about the temperature. The sky was grey, yet despite the seemingly melancholy weather, it looked beautiful. The contrast between the earth and the sky looked stunning from up there, providing a calming atmosphere.

"I've never told anyone about this place," Merry said, taking his wooden pipe from his pocket, preparing to smoke some Old Toby. "Except Frodo. I think he comes down here to read sometimes, and so do I. I believed it was time to show this to Pippin and you. Well, mostly you."

"What do you mean mostly me?" you asked, handing him the small pouch of pipe-weed. Merry filled the bowl of the pipe, pressing the leaf down gently. He lit it up, inhaling the first round of Old Toby.

"I know you like to have some time to yourself," he answered sincerely, taking another puff. He looked somewhere to the distance, admiring the surroundings. "I figured that after what happened at the river, I owed you a proper apology. I thought showing a place where you can cool down your overactive mind would do the trick."

"Well, apology accepted," you smiled, gently taking the pipe from his hands. You took a puff, the pipe lingering on your lips for a moment. It took almost no time at all for the calming effects of it to hit both of you. You passed the pipe to each other for some time in total silence. The wind was calming down, and the sky looked like it could rain soon.

"You seem troubled," you said, looking at Merry, who was deep in his thoughts. His eyes were fixated on the horizon, as he took a deep breath. He passed you the pipe, leaning backwards to lay down on his back, as the top of the rock was wide enough for a Hobbit to rest down almost comfortably. "Merry?"

"I broke it off with Estella," Merry muttered under his breath. He had been dating his friend's sister for several months now. This information was almost jaw dropping to you, but you tried to keep your composure and not pressure your friend too much.

"What happened?" you asked carefully and concerned, extinguishing the remaining pipe-weed. You put the pipe down and placed your palm on his shoulder, trying to make sure he knew that he was in a safe space with you. This was not an area of expertise for you when it came to Merry. The two of you talked about many things, but relationships or their difficulties, were not one of those things. Merry exhaled loudly.

"I don't know. Something about it did not feel right from the start, which I don't completely understand," he said, almost puzzled about his own decision. He placed his palms behind his head, gently resting on them. "If you wrote down her qualities next to mine, it would be perfect. Perfect, but only on paper. Whenever I held her close, or even kissed her... It just felt odd."

You felt compassion towards your best friend, still shocked that he was opening up about the troubles of his romantic life to you. You stayed quiet, still holding his shoulder gently. Merry did not seem to have anything more to say on the matter, but you had plenty of questions and could not keep totally silent.

"When did this happen?" you asked. It had to not have been more than a few days. He had not acted any way differently since the last time you saw him at the river.

"A month ago," Merry answered, your face showing all the possible signs of confusion at once. Nothing had seemed different, yet he was going through a massive change in his life.

"A month! How on earth did I miss that?" you cried, looking at him with pure shock. Merry shifted his eyes on you, a calm expression on his face.

"Well, we don't really talk about this stuff," he responded, softly chuckling at the whole reality of the situation. "Besides, I felt bad."

"I get it," you said. "Whenever a relationship ends, it's just always hard to-"

Merry interrupted you, lifting his other hand in the air. "That's not what I meant," he said, his body twisting a little from feeling uncomfortable. "I felt bad, because I didn't feel bad. She was crying, and all I could do was just stare at her. I felt so relieved. Seeing her cry made me feel like the worst being in all of Middle-Earth. I tried to comfort her, but she just ran off. We haven't said a word to each other since, nor has Fatty talked to me either."

You stared at Merry in confusion. You thought he had been happy, and you had no clue he had stirred the pot in his personal life so roughly. You gave him an understanding smile.

"Look, you tried to comfort her. That's all I'm saying," you responded, trying to cheer Merry up. "It did not feel right and you did the correct thing by ending it, before it escalated."

"I just wish I didn't make her feel so heartbroken, that his brother decided to not talk to me," Merry said quietly. "Fatty and I have always been friends. So have Estella and I. I might have ruined good friendships by trying to force something, when it wasn't there."

"Hey," you said, firmly grabbing his shoulder and giving him a supportive shake. "You did not ruin anything. Yes, sure, she might be mad at you for a while, but I'm positive she will eventually get over it. Both of them will. He's just very protective over his younger sister. You didn't force anything. You gave it a try, and it wasn't a match."

"The thing is," Merry said, sitting up, a slightly sad expression on his face, his eyes glued to his feet. "So far all of my relationships have been like this. At this point, I fear something is wrong with me!"

You shuffled closer, placing your arm around him. He leaned his head on top of yours, as you always had done when providing comfort to each other. 

"Nothing is wrong with you, Merry. You just haven't met the right girl yet," you said, squeezing your arm around him tightly. Merry sighed, appearing to not believe a word from your mouth, as he dwelled deep in his guilt. "I mean it. Someone will come along. You'll be at the Green Dragon, and your eyes meet, and you'll know."

"It's just weird, that's all," Merry sighed. "I've had plenty of crushes, all around Buckland too, but when it came to actually something happening, it came to a halt from my side. There's always this empty feeling. It feels like it's wrong, and I can't quite explain it."

Merry's words made you quiet. As you thought of what he said, you related to it more than you had before realized. Most of the Hobbits you had dated were perfect on paper, but when it came down to actually feeling something real with them - it was never there. 

"I get it," you finally said after some time, Merry snickering at your response. "No, I mean it, Merry. I hadn't really thought about it like that before, but I think I was miserable because of that exact reason in my previous relationships. Even the latest relationship ended with her crying, and me feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders."

Merry looked at you, eyes widening with surprisement.

"My dear friend, you have just made me feel so much better," he smiled, hugging you tightly. His arms around you were always a source of comfort, and in that moment you felt like you really needed it as well. You wrapped your other arm around him too, squeezing him tightly. You were enjoying the calming effect of the hug, as always. His face was nuzzled comfortably in your neck, his smile pressing against your skin.

"I think you are sometimes too hard on yourself," you said to him as you pulled away from the hug. "There are plenty of Hobbits out there for you. You just have to find the right one."

"I am not as sure about it as I used to be, but I am definitely feeling more confident now!" he stated, voice full of sudden happiness. "Maybe it's the pipe-weed, maybe it's you, or maybe it's both."

You giggled at his joke, realizing then just how calm the smoking had made both of you. Talking about all this stuff with your best friend felt new, refreshing and like it should have happened a long time ago. 

You both talked about your past relationships for over an hour, in tears of laughter at the disasters they had all been. Neither of you noticed the passage of time or the cold air anymore, until the effects of Old Toby started to wear off. After that you both agreed that it would be time for both of you to go back for some late luncheon.

On your way back, you were both slightly more quiet and in your thoughts, but relieved as some weight got lifted off your shoulders, knowing you weren't alone with your catastrophic relationship history. 

"Did you know that suits you?" Merry suddenly asked, as the two of you were making your way through the Shire, Bag End slowly approaching in the distance.

"What suits me?" you responded, confused. Merry chuckled and picked up a piece of dirt that had somehow clumped its way to your curls on your journey. He flicked it to the ground with his fingers, looking at you with a mischievous grin. "How long has that been there?" you asked him, slightly annoyed.

"Since we got through the cornfield for the first time," Merry said, smirking. "I noticed it, but I thought it would be funny to not say a thing."

"I had dirt in my hair for hours and you said nothing?" you shouted in a playfully furious tone. "Meriadoc Brandybuck!"

"Calm down!" he chuckled and lifted his hands up, as if to surrender. "I just figured you might have thought it suited your style better than a flower behind your ear, but I suppose I was wrong."

"What, the daisy you snuck in my hair when you were calming me down?" you said, eyes narrowing as you looked at him in his blue eyes, which were glowing with mischief and self-satisfaction.

"Ah, you noticed!" Merry laughed whole-heartedly. "I thought it might frame your face nicely. I did not know it would make you upset. My sincerest apologies," he continued with a sarcastic manner, making you giggle.

"What a nice thought," you smirked, scrunching your nose at him. You crossed your arms, now again shivering from the cold spring wind. "When I have a panic attack again, I'll make sure we are surrounded by daisies."

Merry laughed. "Well, let's hope you don't have another panic attack. What if I don't have a daisy on me? More than that, what if you are so smothered by anxiety that I have to whip up a flower crown for you in a matter of seconds?" he exclaimed dramatically, making your giggles louder. His gaze traveled around your face as he talked, clearly looking for signs that his jokes about the dramatic need of flowers at all times were still funny to you.

"In all seriousness," you started, clearing your throat and changing your tone from playful to a more serious one. "It was a nice gesture. I saw it in the mirror later and it cheered me up."

"I figured it might," Merry said, smiling softly, looking at the ground as you walked through the gate of Bag End. "I know it's your favorite flower."

You gave him a tender smile "I am amazed how well you actually know me," you said, entering through the green front door with him.

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