#sl wrestling

[darkmoongodess]

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[princedevitt]

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Charlotte is wearing the Black SL 570 Sunglasses from YSL (on sale for $312), Black Velvet Dress from Diana Gazaryan (n/a) and Crystal-Embellished Satin High-Heel Sandals from Alexander McQueen (sold out)

[planetaryupscaled]

Forbidden Desire

Male x Chaewon x Kim Minjeong (Winter)

Tags: 4k, taboo, oral, breeding, threesome, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Daddy,” Minjeong said, sweet as ever, “Chaewon is a slut.”

“Noo Daddy!” Chaewon complained, “Minjeong is a liar and a sl-”

“Shush! You’re both bad little sluts who have disturbed my sleep, and did I hear something about a boyfriend?” He slapped his hands under their skirts and gripped their tight asses, both sisters squirmed hard.

“He’s nobody, Daddy. Just... a cute boy from school.”

“Liar,” Chaewon smirked, “She’s trying to get pregnant!”

“Preg- shut up! You were trying the same thing!”

“I’m not gonna let you be the first one, like always!”

The sisters shared a remarkable amount of things, but they constantly fought over who got what. They were old enough to no longer be bent over his knee, yet still fought like children.

But he found a different way to get his cock-hungry daughters to play nice.

“You both know the rules: No boyfriends until you have your own place,” he said. Chaewon and Minjeong’s eyes lit up, though cautious. They had been very naughty after all.

“Are you mad, Daddy?” Minjeong asked. “I just... couldn’t wait to be… a mother.”

“Me neither,” Chaewon whined. He could already feel his daughters’ need to moisten their panties. The same went for her sister. Both were hungry for cock, and more than just a good fucking. He shook his head and began to unclasp his belt.

Daddy’s horny girls needed some lesson.

“You’re both being very bad girls,” he said, dropping his belt on the ground beside his chair and unzipping his jeans. “Getting a boyfriend and not even sharing him like good sisters should...”

“We’re sorry!” the girls said in unison. They were staring at his lap as he fished his cock out of his boxers.

“Not enough girls. You also interrupted my sleep. So, you two will have to make me feel better about that.”

“Yes Daddy!” Chaewon was the fastest to drop to her knees and kiss the head of his cock. Minjeong was close behind, scowling as her sister’s lips wrapped around her father’s cockhead.

“Tch, greedy slut...” she mumbled, edging her way beneath her sister to kiss her father’s balls.

“Mwah! That’s right, Daddy’s mine, just like your boy- unngh” He pulled Chaewon hard, bulging her overfilled throat out with every inch of his cock.

“Enough bitching,” he growled before letting go of his mischievous daughter.

“D-Daddy, that’s mean,” The girl coughed and sputtered despite the big smile on her face.

“That’s right, Daddy can be mean. Now girls,” He wrapped his hands around both of their necks and drew them in until their noses touched either side of his cock. “You’ll both share Daddy’s cock and be nice to each other. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy...” They said in unison.

“Good. Now kiss it,” His pressed their lips against either side of his stiffened cock. Neither of his girls resisted. They worked his shaft immediately, their soft mouths kissing and licking either edge of their father’s twitching cock. Their matching hair framed their faces, both close-eyed and revelling in the taste of the thing that helped make them years ago. And as they both rose to the mushroomed head their lips connected and their tongue wrestled around it.

“Good girls...” He petted their gently bobbing heads. The animosity between them initially fueled their almost violent kissing, as if battling to get more of his cock into them.

However, the mirror-match quickly devolved into a sweet, lustful make-out session that only loving sisters could appreciate. Their little mewls, smacking lips, and roving tongues turned on their father with ferocity.

“Mmm, isn’t that how you two should always be?”

The girls cast their azure eyes up at him and nodded without pausing their ministrations. They kissed while their father’s cock glazed their mouths with spurts of precum that drooled down their chins. It slopped down to their low-cut tops and clung fast to them in sticky strings.

They were almost messy enough to coax the cum out of his balls right there. But he couldn’t let that happen just yet. Reluctant to end their harmonious dick-worship, he peeled his gasping daughters away.

“Feeling better?” he asked. His girls nodded, their meek smiles and chins dripping with familial juices.

“Daddy, I’m horny... I want a baby,” Minjeong confessed.

“Me too,” Chaewon added, “Will you let Minjeong’s boyfriend knock us up now?”

“No,” He replied. Before his crestfallen angels could even whine, he scooped them up under each arm. They squealed and squirmed as he carried them off to his bedroom where he’d taken them many times before.

They weren’t even trying to get away, not even when he tossed nymphs onto his bedsheets and tore open the fronts of their blouses.

“No boyfriends, you bad little girls.”

“But Daddy…” Minjeong scowled as her nubile tits bobbled free in the air.

“No ‘buts’ about it, from you either,” He shot a look at his other pouting daughter.

“But I want a baby Daddy...” Chaewon said. “Why won’t you let us make you grandkids already?”

“Because Daddy doesn’t want grandkids,” he said, planting his hands on their flat bellies. “Daddy want’s more daughters from his bad little girls. Understand?”

They did, and simultaneously stripped their soaking panties from their fertile hips and flipped their mini-skirts up over their exposed bellies. They knew the drill, but this time their hips almost shivered with excitement. Throwing his clothes next to his girls’, he dragged them down the bed until their legs dangled over the edge.

“Daddy, I want to have your baby first!” Minjeong spread her thighs wide.

“No, Daddy! Knock me up first!” Chaewon bucked her hips and spread even wider.

“Hey, you’re the one who-”

“Shhh…” He grabbed both girls and sank his fingers into their wet holes. Both almost sucked him in all the way to his knuckles — their almost identical pussies are desperate for incestuous satisfaction. Despite their squirming and moaning, he began to pump them.

Minjeong gripped her bare chest right beneath her breasts, her crossed arms squishing her tender tits together into such an inviting cleavage. Her tight pink nipples perked up, tightened by the cool air, and popped easily into her Daddy’s hungry mouth.

“Ooh Daddy...” Minjeong mewled. “Daddy’s sucking them...”

“Get used to it,” He said, lathering his girl’s perky tits with his tongue, “My babies are always hungry for these little things.”

“Daddy,” Chaewon said in a sing song voice, pressing her tits against her sister, “I need to get used to it too!”

“Yes you do,” He said, leaving his first daughter’s tits shimmering with his lavish spittle before doing the same on his second. Chaewon squirmed and moaned, a little louder than Minjeong. But that didn’t last long. He curled his fingers inside her pussy till her whines melted away into a lewd moan, one that was matched by her sister when he gave her tit a little bite.

“Daddy! Babies don’t bite,” Chaewon said.

“Well, I do,” he raked her other nipple with his teeth. That set her pussy ablaze, squirming and crushing in around his far-reaching fingers. The sisters bucked their hips in tandem against their father’s palm, firing up their fertile cores till they simply couldn’t be ignored.

“Mmmph,” Minjeong bucked helplessly against her father’s hand, “Daddy, you’re so deep...”

“Yeah? I don’t think its deep enough,” he said. The slurping of his fingers escaping her pussy was quickly drowned by her deep moan, a moan muffled by his fingers dripping with her own juices. Their beautiful eyes glued onto him as he lined his erection up with Minjeong’s tightness.

“Daddy...” Minjeong bit her lower lip, “We’re ovulating today...”

“Daddy knows,” he said as he sank his cock into Minjeong’s bare pussy. The girl moaned and arched her back into the pillows while her envious sister watched. Chaewon’s inner walls clasped tight around his fingers, mimicking the way Minjeong’s love tunnel rippled around his cock. They were sisters after all.

The headboard began thumping against the wall. He wasted no time in thrusting his dick deep into his virginally tight daughter. Just the same, Minjeong huffed and whined as her tiny teen pussy got stretched out. The air began to fill with the smucking sounds of sisters’ slits being filled and unfilled, harder and faster.

“Ooh daddy… you’re so big and — umph!”

“Bigger than her boyfriend,” Chaewon added, rubbing her own pussy besides her father’s hand and watching her sister’s slit getting stuffed. “It’s not fair... I can take daddy’s cock better...”

“Oh can you?” he groaned and pulled out of his writhing Minjeong with a slurp. The sad little whine on the left was quickly drowned out by the lewd yowl from the right. Chaewon braced herself half against the bed and half against her sister.

“Ah! D-daddy, go slow...” she begge, but he shook his head.

“Your sister lubed me up nicely,” he said, slapping his juisce dripping cock against Chaewon’s hesitant slit. “So you’re going to take Daddy all at once honey…”

“But Daddy I’m…”

“Daddy’s slut,” he growled and shoved himself in deep. Chaewon howled and squeezed her sister tight, shaking as her body struggled to take him in all the way. Unable to resist her father’s strength and lust. He grinned alongside Minjeong as they watched the once-spirited girl lose her confidence and composure.

“Thank your sister for all that slippery cum, honey.” he said, pounding Chaewon forbidden tight hole with hard thrust of his hips.

“Th-thank you…ohh!” Chaewon managed as her entire petite frame jilted with each fall of his hips. The father turned to his other girl, her legs still spread, showing off her own creaming pussy.

“Hear that Minjeong? Now give your nice sister a kiss...” his cock throbbed as Minjeong nodded, the blush on her cheeks matching her sister’s. Chaewon’s moans disappeared into her sister’s soft lips, the light smacks and suckling sounds nearly pushed him over the edge.

“OH! Daddy… your cock slipped out,” Chaewon whined.

“Mmm, my turn again,” Minjeong raised her leg like a bunny in heat, draping it over her still-whining sister.

“No… Daddy fucked you longer. I want more!”

“You aren’t as good a fuck as me. How do you think I got a boyfriend, huh?”

“You stole my last —”

“That’s enough,” Robert grabbed Minjeong and yanked his teasing slut daughter over her sister. Belly to belly, his girls smooshed together as he pressed their waggling hips together. Both girls squealed and writhed, their sweaty skin gleaming as their legs framed their pussies, ready for their Daddy to use.

“You’ve both been very bad girls,” he said, slapping his cock first against Minjeong’s slit before doing the same to Chaewon’s below. “If you don’t play nice with each other, you won’t get any of me tonight.”

“No, please!” Chaewon moaned.

“Daddy! We’ll be good, we promise!” Minjeong added. Both voices shivered with desperation, their bodies left stranded halfway to climax. Now their vulnerable pussies sopped with need. Minjeong’s pink slit drooled onto her sister’s as he thrust his cock between their slippery mounds and sensitive clits.

“Good, now be good sisters while Daddy fucks you...”

Their hair tangled together, dampened already by the heat of one another, and their unprotected pussies yielded nicely to the thrusts of their father’s cock. He couldn’t remember a time when his daughters were so quiet together, with only the little smooches and whines coming from their lips. They wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

“That feels so good, Daddy...” Minjeong moaned.

“Put it in me — I mean us, Daddy!” Chaewon begged.

He couldn’t agree more. The edge of his shaft grazed both girls back and forth until their waggling, humping hips threatened to crush his cock in the frothy mess he made between them. Both of their gaping holes were so inviting, but it was Minjeong who got it first.

“D-Daddy — oh fuck!” she stammered, her girlish hole struggling to accommodate her father’s manly girth. Minjeong’s fingers gripped her sister’s tits as she lifted back to look behind her, but he grabbed the curious daughter’s hair with a firm grip.

“Keep your eyes on your sister,” he commanded as he pumping her love hole with a steady pace. “Tell her what Daddy’s doing to you.”

“Nghh okay Daddy... umph, ahh... Daddy’s filling me up so much sis...”

“Yeah… I can feel his balls hitting my clit,” Chaewon gulped between her huffing breaths. “And Daddy’s cock, it’s... it’s bulging your belly, I can feel it against mine. Ughh, its sliding so far up, and then back down and...”

He pressed his cock back into Chaewon, spearing into the moaning daughter with his cock dripping with her sister’s juices. He shoved two fingers back into his mewling girl on top, keeping her tightness stretched for when he would come to fuck her again.

“I feel it too, Chaewon! He’s fingering me. Daddy’s fingering me! Oh my god, your belly sis! Come on, Dad! Put it back in—Mmm…”

Minjeong was getting fuck-drunk, and so was Chaewon. Both huffed and panted like bunnies in heat. Because they were desperate to be bred, and their father was determined to fill his sweet girls.

He went back and forth, filling his girls. While pounding into Minjeong, his balls slammed into Chaewon’s quivering pussy lips. When he rutted into Chaewon, he kneaded Minjeong’s petite ass. Sisters’ legs entwined and grappled back around their father’s jutting hips, bringing him closer and closer as their ecstasy increased. It was Chaewon who began to tense up first.

“Daddy, I’m... I’m getting close.”

“Me too. I’m going to cum on your cock daddy…”

Minjeong tensed up with her sister, the two hugging each other tight and kissing each other in blind passion. It didn’t matter that they missed half the time, kissing the cheek, chin, and nose. Their eyes were rolling back in their heads, their minds racing through the clouds to the pounding rhythm of the headboard slamming againts the wall.

“That’s it, cum for daddy girls…” He bore down, pressing them both into the bed and watching their blushing faces mewl and moan beside one another.

“Cum hard so that Daddy’s sperm can produces some pretty babies in you both.”

“Oh Daddy… give me a baby!” Minjeong wailed.

“Knock me up, Daddy!” Chaewon screamed.

And he did exactly that. With a roar, he gripped their fertile hips tightly and buried his spurting cock inside Minjeong. Ropes of potent spurt were blasted into his topmost daughter’s pussy, splattering the teen’s fertile womb with incestuous babymakers. The heat of his gooey load set her off like an overdrawn bow.

“He-he’s cumming inside me!!” Minjeong screamed, her pussy collapsing into orgasmic pulses. The senseless girl writhed on top of her sister, clawing, kissing, and hugging her tightly. He wasn’t done, though. Despite the death-grip pull of Minjeong tight pussy, it couldn’t stop him from yanking free and plunging right into Chaewon’s quivering hole in time to shoot inside her as well.

“D-Daddy’s cum is — ughh!” Chaewon couldn’t say anymore as she arched up hard enough to hoist her sister with her bucking. Thick shots of her father’s cum hit her unprotected cervix. Millions of swimmers slammed into her innermost places, the same ones that had made them years ago.

Another healthy globs shot up inside her before he pulled away from his daughter’s wild sex. Jerking himself off with their juice lubricating his cock, He glazed their pussies with the last spurts of his fatherly cum. His girls, sweaty and gasping with their mutual ecstasy, moaned and humped their Daddy’s cum with their rubbing pussies until his incestuous seed stringed and frothed between them.

“Daddy’s cum... It’s so hot” Minjeong sighed.

“Yeah...” Chaewon simply cooed in agreement and pressed her freshly fucked pussy against her sister’s. He caught his breath, his loins still pulsing with satisfied need, and dripped it onto his girls.

“Are you going to be good girls for me now?”

“Yes Daddy,” Minjeong said. “No more boyfriends. Just Daddy.”

“We’re full of Daddy’s babies anyhow!” Chaewon added, sending a giggle through both girls.

“Good...” He sighed.

“But Daddy...” Chaewon pouted and looked up at her father while touching her red rose messy slit. “You came more in Minjeong. I felt it!”

“No! He fucked you longer,” Minjeong replied, “I’ll still have his baby first.”

“No way! I’m going to have twins from Daddy’s extra-fucking!”

“Wahh? Daddy! It isn’t fair! Fuck me till I have twins too!”

“Bad girls,” he growled, unable to hide his smile as he flipped his girls over so Chaewon came out on top. “Daddy’s going to fill you both so full of babies you’ll be grounded for nine months!”

The sisters squealed with delight, waggling their ripe hips at him as the same cum that made them leaked from their fertile cunt.

Both were already going to get knocked up, probably with twins of their own, and the father knew he was just exponentially exacerbating his problems.

But that didn’t stop him from slapping his hardening cock back against their naughty little pussies. He had to be a good Daddy after all.

[thecoolerliauditore]

see cus so much of bdubs communication is based off of him giving the other person room to push back or react. it's why he bounces so well off of tango for example because tango is really happy to make snarky remarks that bdubs can set up.

but scott has this kinda polite coworker air about him like 90% of the time so I can't help but feel like in the case of a bdubs/scott team up if they do talk it would be something like. bdubs going "youghhhh awhh you little rascal you're hiding the entire worlds supply of sugar cane down here!!!!!" and scott would be like "well that's so that no one else can have tnt later :)" and the conversation just dies.

the best case scenario. For ME. Is if their personalities really just hardcore clash like bdubs treats scott pretty much like how he did during SL and scott just. doesn't match his energy and bdubs ofc sneaks off to go see etho like he always does and scotts like okayy bye ^^ but as soon as he's alone he's like fuckkk bdubs doesn't care about me he's gonna leave me i need some sort of backup plan cleo cleo are you home cleo can we be friends again 🥺🥺and because this is my universe and I make the rules cleo's kinda dismissive of scotts concerns cus oh you know bdubs is just. like that. and scott's like oh okay awesome awesome this doesn't worry me anymore! (it worries him)

and scott's like bdubs pleaseeee can you not antagonize people you're making us enemies!! and bdubs sees this as an opportunity to do his over-the-top confident schtick to try and lure scott into insulting him so he says some shit like "yeah well they can't get past me!! im invincible im im a MACHINE scott" and scott's like hahaha okay!! (gonna kms)

at some point scott tries to wrestle some inkling of control back and he's like bdubs. bdubs look me in the eyes bdubs etho has never done anything good for you he's taking advantage of you he's always taken advantage of you. and in listing the ways etho is Evil and Bad he has to kinda confront facts about himself that make him want to walk into the ocean. bdubs still isn't taking him totally seriously but HOW DARE he insult etho so he starts doing his whole fake-rage thing and scott is like well he-- well-- nevermind. and storms off like an angry toddler.

then bdubs decides fuck it there's something deeply wrong with this kid so he's like hey. hey etho scott says you're BAD. and ethos like uhh okay. and bdubs is like you're a BAD MAN ethoslab you have done BAD THINGS i need to DUEL YOU AT DAWN. and ethos like uhhh okay 😥 and scott has to referee their "duel" which is just like. them hitting eachother with wooden swords but they both have to spamclick cus. mindcrack nostalgia or whatever. and at the end bdubs is like okay i fought him scott are you happy i beat him up for his crimes. and scott's like okay awesome can you kill me now it's episode 4 but ican't take this anymore

[nymphoheretic]

In His Clothes

Nymph: After months of waiting, drama, losing my sweet anon babies, seasonal depression, I've finally finished one of the NSFW fics of Wearing their clothing headcanons. These were not supposed to be fics, but c'est la vie. I hope you all enjoy!

Synopsis: You should have known better than to wear their clothing. The possessive looks should have been enough, but their clothes were so big and comfy....

Warnings: 18+ explicit smut, degrading, biting, blood, marking, bondage (sekido binds the readers hands), knotting, cervix kissing, dry humping, squirting (let me know if I forgot anything)

Special shoutout: Thank you @unknownspecies and @suyacho for beta-reading this!

Sekido didn't know what to expect when he came into his room to find you trying on one of his kimonos – the large fabric nearly swallowing your frame as the long sleeves hid your hands. The open neck shows a line of your abdomen down to the lacy black underwear you wore. The sight of your nipples straining against the material made his mouth water and cock hard. 

"Little brat...."

The sound of his growl startles you. "Seki..." you whisper, starting to close the open gap of the kimono, but Sekido was fast. Faster than what your eyes comprehend as he already wrestled you onto his lap – his hands cupping your breasts.

"Look at you, nasty bitch. You know what wearing my clothes does to me." One hand leaves your breasts to grab the fat of your hip, bringing you to a slow grind over his lap. "Feel what the fuck you do to me. Feel exactly what I'm going to fuck you so stupid with." His cock twitches as your dampening core rocks against the swelling length.

Your hands move to grab his shoulders as you loll your head back to the rhythm of his grinding, but Sekido had other plans. Taking the obi from the kimono he was wearing as he took your wrists. At your gasp, he uses the sash to tie your hands up in a tight knot behind your back, the position, making your breasts jut out from the fabric of the kimono you stole.

Carmine eyes lock with yours as a dark look enters their depths. “Naughty sluts like you don’t get to touch me.” His voice was deep — rumbling in his chest. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over the hardened peaks of your nipple as the other hand grips your hip tightly to rock your throbbing pussy over his achingly hard cock.

“ kido...” You whimper out, back arching further into his touch and rubbing your dampening cunt of the hard length, trying to gain some type of friction to your burning clit. A scream bubbles up in your throat when his fangs graze the tip of your nipple, “Ah~, Sek-Sekido.” You cry out, your fingers flexing with the need to claw at him, to bring him closer, to touch him. 

Sekido swipes his tongue over your nipple, tasting the salt that coats your skin from the sweat that forms. He had half the mind to just leave you all tied up and needy for his dick as punishment for daring to steal his clothes, but the way you were grinding your hips, rubbing your needy pussy over his length made him rethink that decision. “Tell me, little slayer,” his voice rumbles in your ear as he calls to you, “Do you think you deserve my cock, my knot? Have you earned that right?”

You struggle to answer as his claws dig into the fat of your hips and drag your drooling panty clad cunt over the swell of his cock in a hard grind, the friction causing your mind to go blank. It was only when his fangs bury into the junction of your neck and shoulder, warm blood spilling down your chest did you open your mouth. “Please! I don’t deserve it, but I need it.” You buck your hips, your damp panty clad clit catching the tip of his cock and sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

A dark chuckle leaves him as Sekido watches you with darkening red eyes. His hand tightens on your hips as he makes you rock faster, grinding harder against his cock as he bucks his hips into yours. “You’re right. You don’t deserve it. So you’re going to cum without me even touching this slutty cunt of yours.” His lips turn up in a mocking sneer as your honeyed cries reach his ears as your feeble attempts to get him to stop fails.

Digging your nails into the material of the sash tied around your wrists, tears burn in the corners of your eyes as Sekido continues to rock you over the hard muscles of his thigh, pussy clenching around air as your mouth falls open in a silent scream. You want to weep, beg and sob for his fingers – his cock. Something to fill the burning ache that settles in your core. But you know better, Sekido trains you well. He gave you an order to cum untouched and that was what you were going to do. No matter how much you plead with the demon of rage. 

Sekido groans as he feels your slick drenching his thigh, his cock twitching to life and causing a tent under his own robe. A growl vibrates in his chest as he stares up at you, biting back the love sick smirk that wants to curl at his lips. He would never let you see exactly how much you affect him – how much you manage to worm your way into his anger-induced heart. “Cum, whore. And maybe I'll be nice and let you sit on my cock.” He moves on hand from your hip to the apex of your thighs, thumb circling your clit in rough hard circles that makes your head fall back and a scream bellows from your chest.

Your pussy spasms from the stimulation, cum dripping out of you as your hips continue to rock over Sekido’s lap and grind your slick over him. “‘Kido...I-” your words are cut off as he spins you around so that your back is facing him, claws shredding the thin material of your panties. You watch with bated breath as Sekido bunches the fabric of his kimono up under your breasts as he frees his dick from the confines of his restrictive clothing.

Biting down on your lip, a low hiss leaves you as Sekido lines his thick mushroomed head at your drippy little hole, swiping it over your clit and tapping it on your entrance. His voice rumbles in your ear before his fangs graze over the fleshy shell. “You dirty slut. Cumming untouched and making such a filthy mess. Looks like I need to plug up this nasty pussy. Don't expect me to be gentle either.”

You didn't want it anyway else as the demon of rage pulls you down onto his heavy dick, bottoming out in one single thrust as his claws dig into your bound wrists. Another scream is torn from you, but it was cut short when your lover wraps his hand around the back of your neck, long fingers pressing firmly on your arteries while his thumb rests on your vocal cords.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your back as he speaks. Sekido thrusts roughly up into you, heavy balls clapping on the skin of your ass as he fucks you hard and deep. “You don't get to say a word.” He applies just a bit more pressure to your neck, his other hand digging into the fat of your hip. An idea forms in his mind as a slow smirk tilts at his lips. “Hn.” He lets out a small chuckle, his thrusts slowing until he stops completely. 

Sekido growls when a whine escapes you and the flat of his fingers smac loudly against the mound of your cunt. “Stop whining like a cock hungry whore. If you want my cock so badly, do it yourself. Fuck yourself and make yourself cum.”

You gasp at his words. Sekido has never let you have control like this before and honestly you didn’t know if you wanted it. You want him to drill up into you until you’re a sobbing, cumming mess. “Seki—” You words are cut off when the hand that he has wrapped around the back of your neck tightens just enough to make your head swim from the lack of oxygen-rich blood to your brain. 

“Are you fucking deaf, slayer? Or are you too cockdrunk already?” He growls, slapping and pinching your sensitive nub repeatedly. Over and over again until you were damn near screaming and shaking from the intensity of the orgasm that washes over you. “Now, fucking bounce on my cock. That’s the last time I’m giving you an orgasm. The next one is on your own or I’ll fucking edge you all night long.”

A soft whimper leaves you at Sekido’s promise — he never makes empty threats. With your hands still tied behind your back, you use your legs to lift your body, pussy squelching as his cock drags slowly through your folds. You start off slow, the muscles in your thighs burning and screaming from the overusage, but you don't stop as you rise and sink on his thick cock. The bulbous tip pressing against that sweet spot that only he could reach. You bite your lip, so hard that you nearly break the delicate flesh and spill blood.

You toss your head back, mouth dropping open as you take in more of his length. Your eyes begin to water as you feel the slow swelling forming at the base of Sekido’s cock. His knot. There was no way you would be able to sink down far enough without his help. “Pul-please, daddy...” You whisper softly, hoping the name would shake your demon lover.

And it did. Sekido’s eyes snap open, glowing lustfully as a growl falls from his lips. “Desperate slut. Calling me that, knowing the effect it has.” He sits up, his wide chest against your back as his arm hooks under your thigh. Lifting his hips, he fucks into you with brutal, punishin thrusts, grunting as he slowly forces his knot deep inside your tight little hole. “Ha~ Nasty bitch. Needed her fucking daddy’s help to plug up this cunt with his seed?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer as his fangs bury themselve into your shoulder, blood swelling up in the punctures. Sekido’s greedy tongue laps at the spilling crimson as he knocks into the swollen spony spot, his knot swelling to its fullness inside you and plugging up your hole. “Cum, you greedy slut. Cum for me so I can fill ths unworthy pussy with my seed.” He gives you harsher, deeper strokes — fucking his knot in deeper as his hand circles around your waist to nestle between your slick thighs to rub hard, tight circles on your swollen clit.

“Fuck! Daddy ‘Kido...” You whine out as your body convulses, your pussy tightening around his cock and fluttering as you cum hard. Squirt gushes from you and soaks his balls in your essence. You could feel the way his cock pulses inside you, throbbing and swelling even further as Sekido nears his high. 

A grunt is all he utters as he locks his hips, pulling you down as far as he could onto his cock until the swollen tip was pressed so snuggly against your cervix. Sekido’s dick twitches as his cum spills over, hot and thick, flooding your womb and painting it white. His knot holds steady as you slump back against his chest, completely spent and he could not help the small chuckle that vibrates in his chest. “Idiot. Wear my clothes again and I’ll fuck you twice as hard.” He wraps his arms around you, his knot still holding tight as he rolls onto his side. Gliding his palms over your curves in what he thinks is a soothing manner as he laps at the nasty bleeding bite mark, he says. “Sleep, slayer. You’ll need your strength because if you’re still wearing my kimono when I awake, I’m fucking you all over again.”

©️2022-24 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

Taglist:

@cupids-soul/ @nc-vb/ @sugardollie-907/ @yandere-kou/ @starry-supernova/ @gwedalyn/ @chr0nicbackpain/ @unknownspecies/ @booplsnoot/ @yeahitzally/ @mindlesschicca/ @sada-siva-sanyaasi/ @neji85/ @instantpeachpatrol/ @linpunny/ @mrsoharaa/ @herohibiscus/ @diorsbrando/ @muzanswaifu/ @potofstewie/@smiley-babe/@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi/@mokotodenisd/@islands-0f-violence/@bakugosbratx/@luxesiren/@serenesaku

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[sturniololoco]

Shy pt. 3

pt 1 pt 2 pt 4

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

SLS x Nathan Doe

Warnings: suggestive content kinda?, Kissing, bathing suits?, etc.

SLS/N’s POV

Nick sat in my bed, already in his bathing suit, while I basically pulled out every single one of my bathing suits and tried them on for him.

“No, do that one, Nate will be going crazy.” He said, pointing to one I had previously tried on. It was a floral bikini with smaller bottoms.

"Nick!" I scolded him. He put his hands up in mock defense and got up to leave the room while I changed. Before I headed downstairs, I snuck into Nick's closet to grab a T-shirt to wear as a cover-up.

-

Again, I was smushed up against Nate for the 15-minute car ride to the warehouse. Only this time it was different.

I could feel his eyes on me nearly the entire ride. And at one point he moved his hand down between us and started fumbling with the edge of my shirt.

At this, I felt my heart nearly leave my chest.

Butterflies.

Maybe the kiss did mean something. I thought.

-

As we pulled into the warehouse, Nate was quick to jump out. He helped Chris grab all our things and walk them to the pool. Nick and I were walking side by side on the sidewalk, I was on the edge.

The next thing I knew, Chris was tackling me into the pool, T-shirt and all. I swam and brought my head above water. I looked at Chris as he climbed out of the pool, giving me an evil smirk.

I stuck both my middle fingers and my tongue out, screaming,

"Fuck you!"

I climbed out of the pool, Nick's white t-shirt sucked tight to my skin from the water. I quickly stripped it off my body, before the sight got too embarrassing.

I saw Nate smirk out of the corner of my eye, taking off his own shirt, and I couldn't help but stare.

-

Two rounds of sunscreen later, Nick and I were relaxing and drinking Pepsi by the side of the pool. Matt, Chris, and Nate were too busy wrestling to notice the conversation between Nick and I.

"Did you see the way he was staring at you? I think he had a string of drool hanging from his lip too-" Nick was saying, but was interrupted by Chris, yelling,

"Who's up for a chicken fight!?" I quickly stood up and jumped into the water, wanting to get in on the fun. Nick stayed back dn said he'd be the ref.

"Okay. Round one will be Me and SLS/N vs Nate and Chris." Matt said I gave him a fist bump before he went under the water, allowing me to climb on top of his shoulders. Nate and Chris did the same, Chris on top.

We fought and fought until Nate swept Matt, causing us to splash into the water. Nate and Chris cheered and high five as Matt and I wiped the water out of our eyes.

Round two! Matt and Chris vs Nate and SLS/N!" Nick yelled from the pool side. I whipped my head around and stared at him. He gave me a small smile before blowing an imaginary whistle.

Matt climbed up on Chris's shoulders. They saw me hesitate and Chris said,

"What's wrong? Are you two chicken to go up against the masters?" Mat and he started making chicken noises at us.

I am no chicken in a chicken fight.

I turned around to face Nate who was already looking at me. My cheeks turned red as I said,

"Let's do this."

He went under the water, allowing me to sit on his shoulders, fully aware that I was literally on top of him.

He rose to the surface and wrapped his arms around my legs, giving them a little squeeze.

Nick blew his whistle again, and we were off.

-

This was the longest chicken fight because it lasted a few solid minutes. But Nate and I eventually push my brothers into the deep end and they sink.

Nate and I cheer and high-five after he gently helps me down from his shoulders. We begin to make quacking chicken noises at Matt and Chris, who roll their eyes in defeat.

-

“Hey, imma run to the bathroom. Does anyone need anything while I’m in side?” I ask you quietly, standing up and fixing my bathing suit straps.

“Actually, could you show me where the bathroom is?” Nate says.

I look at him, shocked. But his face is straight, not breaking eye contact. I nod and begin walking and I wave my arm, signaling for him to follow me.

He does so, following me into the warehouse, up the stairs and down the hallway.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left-“ I begin to say, but I am cut short by Nate, who had me pinned against the wall, gently by my shoulders.

“I can’t do this SLS/N. I can’t keep pretending.” He said leaning in close, our noses brushing.

My eyes flutter shut and my face gets hot. I nod my head, not being able to form words.

He’s so close I can feel his breath fan over my face. At this point I’m just waiting for him to kiss me like he did in the kitchen last night.

“Please, talk to me. Give me something so I know you feel the same.” He said, a pinch of sadness in his voice.

Instead of talking, I lean forward and go up on my toes to make press my lips to his.

I feel him smile into the kiss. He moves his hands from my shoulders, trailing them down my body until they rest at my hips.

I gasp at the sudden contact, making him pull away slightly. I look up at him, my cheeks flushed with heat. He gives me that award-winning smile and I feel my stomach doing flips.

I put my head down, my hair falling down to hide my face. He chuckles and lifts my chin up, saying,

"Somebody is a little shy hmm?" He slightly squeezes my hips, and just as he's leaning down to kiss me again,

We hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

Nate's POV

We hear the footsteps coming up the stairs and we immediately jump. Then I feel her hand pushing me into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

"H-hey Matt!" She says, her voice cracking slightly.

"Hey, is Nate still in there?" He replies, thankfully not getting suspicious. She must have nodded because he responded with,

"I can wait for him if you want. Chris is cranking up the hot tub if you wanna head down there."

"Yeah, um...okay great! I was gonna do that anyway!" She lied. She must have been letting her nerves show because Matt said,

"Are you okay? You're feeling a little warm, do you need to go home?"

Matt must have felt her enflamed cheeks, courtesy of our kiss.

"No, No, No I'm good! I think it's just a sunburn." I then heard her walking away to escape.

After she left, I heard Matt sigh and say,

"Nate, c'mon man! I gotta pee!"

-

Once I got back downstairs, I saw SLS/N everishly telling Nick something. I smiled at how cute she is when she's talking. I then walked over and helped Chris get the hot tub started.

Once we finished, Chris and I climbed in, cracking open a new can of Pepsi. Not long after Nick and SLS/N joined us.

"Mind if I sit?" She asked, nodding to the spot next to me. I nodded and she got in, resting her back against the hot tub wall, looking a beautiful as ever.

SLS/N's POV

A hot tub gets kinda small when you have four grown men and little me in there. Nate and I's thighs were pressed close together, even closer than in the car.

We were all talking and laughing as the sun went down, drinking way too much Pepsi.

But then something happened that was not expecting.

I felt Nate's hand brush over my thigh. A whisper of a touch. At first, I thought it was an accident, but then he kept doing it.

As the sun went fully down, he proceeded to rest his whole hand on my thigh, rubbing up and down slowly. every time his hand went higher on my thigh making my stomach feel like its caving in.

"SLS/N, are you sure you're okay? You still look kinda sick." Matt asked, probably noticing my quietness and the flustered redness on my face.

I nodded and told him I was fine. He agreed and the boys went back to their conversation. Only then did I realize that Nate's hand stopped moving, right at the very top of my thigh.

His fingers began fiddling with my bathing suit bottoms. I sucked in a sharp breath.

This is too much. They're gonna find out!

I thanked Heaven but also cursed as Chris hopped out of the tub to turn it off. We walked back to grab our stuff to head home. It was pretty cold outside of the hot tub, the sun being down didn't help either.

But what really didn't help was the fact that my T-shirt was still sopping wet from when Chris pushed me into the pool.

I sighed, deciding that I was just gonna suffer from the cold, but I then felt something being hung over my shoulder.

I turn around to see Nate walking away, looking back at me with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and then threw the shirt on, the warm cotton soothing the goosebumps on my skin.

-

On the car ride home, I passed out, tired from our long day of fun. Not to mention the long day with Nate.

But the next thing I knew, I was being lifted out of the car and being held like a baby, my legs wrapping around the persons torso, my arms around their neck.

I thought it was Chris, so I buried my face in the crook of their neck. But when I heard the voice of the person say, "Naw man, I got her," I knew it was Nate, but I was too tired to care.

He gently laid me down on my bed, pulling the covers over me. He kissed me on my forehead and began to walk out.

"No, stay," I called out groggily before I could think about my actions.

He gave me a soft smile before closing the door and walking back to my bed, climbing under the covers with me. He wrapped his arms around me, falling asleep almost as fast as I did.

Pt 4 sooooooon!

Tag List:

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life

[writingsbychlo]

How would our drunk batboys will react with their mates ? 😭❤️

RHYSAND:

"(Y/N)!" Rhysand's sudden shout was out of the blue, enough to make you jump as you lounged on the couch, book on hand. Closing it gently after marking the page, you listened to the chaos. "Darling! My darling!"

You listened as he stumbled to kick off his shoes, the sound of material hitting the floor - his jacket failing to make it to the coat hook, no doubt - and fell into the wall.

"Where are you?"

"I'm right in here, Rhys." You finally spoke, giggling a little but the sound was quickly cut off as the man appeared before you. Facing the wrong was, his winnow brought him unsteadily right to the edge of the couch, and he spun on his heel, whipping around to find you. As his gaze landed on you, a sunshine-smile split his face. "Hello, my love."

"My darling, my mate. Hi." And with that, he gave you no time to discard your book, before he was falling down atop you, crushing the air from your lungs and ignoring your groaned complaint. "Missed you."

"You're crushing me!"

"Missed you. Say it back." He left a kiss to your neck, another on your shoulder, and you wrestled your arms free from underneath him.

"I would if I could breathe!"

Propping himself up on shaky arms, his nose bumped your own, a soft kiss brushing across your lips, and you could still taste the whiskey on his lips. "You don't normally complain this much when I'm on top of you."

"Always so full of jokes when you drink, huh?"

"I'm a comedian, darling!"

AZRIEL:

"Hi, baby, I love you," Az mumbled, smiling so wide his eyes closed and his dimples were on full display. "Hi, baby! I love you!"

"Welcome home, Azzy." You teased, raising your brows at him as he swayed a little on the spot, standing at the end of the bed. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, but I missed you."

"Do you wanna get ready for bed, and then come cuddle?" Holding your arms open, he nodded happily, making no move to actually shift from his spot, his eyes closing again.

"Saw a girl that had a purple dress like yours."

"Oh, yeah?" You sighed, trying to resist the smile tugging at your lips as you kicked off the covers, making your way over to him. At the feel of your hands on his arms, slowly trying to guide him, his gaze popped back to you. "Was it a better dress than mine? Mine is old, now."

"You wore it on our first date!" He mused, letting you guide him towards the bathroom, only to be seated on the edge of the tub, wings drooping behind him. "I'll buy you a new purple dress if you want."

"That's okay, Azzy. I have plenty of dresses." Your words were all but pressed to his ear as you leaned around him to find the catches under his wings, and he hummed happily, looping his arms around you like a hug.

"Then what should I buy you?" His arms raised up over his head as you lifted his shirt off, only to return to gripping you tightly and pulling you into his body as soon as it was off.

"Nothing, you don't need to buy me anything."

"But how will you know how much I love you?" He pouted, and you pecked his lips, the smile you loved forming again as soon as you pulled back.

"You can just tell me, and I'll believe you."

"Okay. I love you. I love you like the waves love the moon, and like the stars love the night sky."

CASSIAN:

"Well, hello, pretty lady." Cassian tried to lean on the doorframe, missing it entirely and stumbling to the side as he almost fell, and you covered your mouth, sitting up a little further to see if he was okay. "I'm all good! Nothin' can hurt me, doll, I'm strong. Wanna' see?"

At that, he pulled up the bottom of his damp shirt, flashing his defined abs and smirking.

"Touch 'em."

"That's alright, Cass." He only shook his head, dropping his shirt and wandering over to you with uneven steps. "Did that hurt?"

"Did what hurt?" He echoed emptily, eyes closing in on your midnight snack sitting on the table in front of you.

"When you just fell through the door, are you okay?"

"I don't know, did it hurt for you?" He rebutted, slumping down onto the couch, half on top of you, with part of your sandwich in hand. He was quick to tear off an excessively large bite.

"When I fell?"

"Yeah." He spoke aorund the food, choking down a half-chewed mouthful before smirking again. "When you fell from Heaven."

"Oh, my Gods, Cassian!"

He only beamed.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 4

Part (4) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: decent bit of cursing, blood, needles, minor body horror, some ptsd/ minor flashbacks, dislocated knee

WC: 4,068

Echo was shouting into the coms. I wasn’t paying attention to what he said, focusing instead on hauling Hunter back up against me as torturous silence loomed between the arc’s orders and pleas. He muted his mic, but I could still hear the string of curses as he darted toward me to return to his place at Hunter’s other side, and we ran.

“We’re nearly to our shuttle, then we’ll come to you! If you can hear me, we’ll be there soon!” He continued, and I could picture the scowl pulling at his lips.

“Can you fly?!” He asked sharply as he sprinted through the trees, and I had to fight back the rush of nausea and panic at the very thought… I hadn’t flown in years… not since…

“Not well!” I called back. “I’ll extract if you can cover me!” He nodded, but I could tell he balked at the idea, at the mere thought of me being on the ground amidst the torrent of droids while he flew overhead. There was little in the way of options, however, so he bit back his objections as we finally approached our ship.

“I’ll get Hunter secured! Go!” I shouted, already pulling away from him the instant we reached the ramp. He didn’t question me, instantly racing toward the cockpit. I’d only just managed to wrestle Hunter into a crash couch, straining with the effort to hold him upright while pulling at the harness, when the ship jerked to life. Movements rushed, I quickly latched the straps about his limp form before the ship leapt up so sharply, I couldn’t stop myself from dropping to a knee, hands desperately locked around the seat before me.

I’d hoped we might have just a few moments for me to place a chest tube, but, with the ship lurching about so violently, that would have to wait…

The sound of the shuttle’s sluggish guns boomed through the small cabin, and I shuddered at the memory of how many droids I’d seen littering the fields. How many had the others been able to take out? How many could Echo hope to destroy in the few seconds before we’d reach the crash-site? Would there be anything left to find among the wreckage?

I had to shake the thoughts from my head lest the tears gathering in my throat choked me.

“Touchdown in T minus 30!” Echo’s voice sounded thin through the shuttle intercom, but his words were clear enough. With one hand locked onto the strap of my medbag, I forced myself to move back toward the door, my other hand tightening briefly around Hunter’s for just a moment, just to reassure myself that he was still there.

“Opening the side hatch!”

I jumped before the door stopped moving, registering only that the ground was a short drop below.

“I’m clear!” I shouted, body still rolling to a stop. Outside, the boom of the shuttle’s cannons was far more deafening, the percussion hitting me with a dull thud to mark every burst of plasma Echo launched into the oncoming army as he quickly flew toward the still smoking craters.

I granted only seconds to scan the surrounding hills – Tech had managed to put some small bit of distance between themselves and the main army as they fell – before turning toward the shuttle itself.

And then I smelled the fuel saturating the air. I heard the roar of flames and felt the wrongness of numb flesh where there should have been agony from nerves destroyed by deep burns. Some distant memory screamed at me for the weight held by my ankle, and my chest wanted to cough to free myself of smoke that had once left me sputtering and choking. The distant trees blurred into those native to my homeland, and I couldn’t ignore the ghost-image of the sleeping tooka we’d painted below the red medic symbol.

My body shied back as something erupted with a small burst of neon blue near the cockpit, and I realized just how quickly I was breathing; how frantically my heart slammed against my chest. Maker, I felt like I was going to be sick… but my men were in there… Tech… Wrecker… Cross…

My leg nearly collapsed beneath that first, shaky step forward, but then I was running. I didn’t try to fight off the way my memories bled over into reality; refused to acknowledge the flicker of fire through holes that didn’t exist, the sound of metal warping and skin crackling as I reached forward. My hands shook, but I made them find purchase on the narrow opening between the rear doors, unsure if the heat scalding my fingers was real.

The right door was already partially open, but it was bent so violently I doubted anyone but Wrecker could make it budge. Even the left hung oddly, the metal too warped to slide smoothly on tracks left askew from the collision. Nearly screaming beneath the strain, I threw my entire body into dragging it down, foot hiked up to press against the hull as the slab reluctantly began to move.

Don’t stop. Don’t think. Emergency lights flickered within. Metal panels that once lined the roof and walls hung bent and ruined from what few bolts still held them up while others littered the floor, leaving the bare skeleton of steel and insulation exposed. I knew this ship – knew every hidden recess and faulty latch. The rear door must have already been partially open before the crash... Crosshair… He must have been shooting from here…

Attention turning back to the debris strewn across the floor, I began sifting through the wreckage, hoisting aside tattered panels in search of even a trace of that familiar armor.

“Crosshair! Crosshair, say something, dammit!” I barely noticed myself screaming for him, tried not to yield beneath the need to scream Emmy’s name alongside his as I twisted fear into anger if only for the façade of strength it granted. “Crossha- Cross!” I nearly tripped from how quickly I darted forward, eyes locked on the rounded corner of a boot, hands already reaching out to pull away the slab of durasteel and fallen insulation concealing him.

“Cross?! Crosshair, come on, baby, say something.” I pleaded, dropping to my knees beside him. He offered no response as my fingers slid up his neck in search of the steady dance of his pulse, and I nearly sobbed with relief upon finding it. Movements rapid, I ripped the scanner from my bag, cursing every eternity that passed in the few seconds before results began populating across the small screen. Minor laceration, minor abrasion, moderate contusion, minor concussion… Something akin to a sob shuttered passed my lips as the scan finished without listing anything life-threatening.

Shoving the device back into my bag, I quickly pulled him against me, grunting beneath the effort to haul his lanky form over my shoulder. Just as I began to push myself back to my feet, I paused, eyes catching on another familiar shape nearly hidden amongst the rubble. With a scoff, I reached out to snatch the elegant weapon before treading quickly back to the partially opened door, pausing to scan the nightscape before me.

The trees that surrounded us were wrong, and I had to shake my head to make sense of the battlefield, reminding myself that we were far from Agamar. Echo had flown back toward where he and I surfaced with Hunter, littering the ground and enemy forces alike with cannon fire as though he was still attempting to grant an escape route to someone within, a pretense that appeared to be working, though I could only guess for how long.

Movements quick but steady, I eased Crosshair and his rifle down in the short ditch carved into the earth from the crash, hopeful that it might grant him some meager bit of cover while I was gone. Turning back toward the ship was no easier the second time. I could feel my body trembling and knew it wasn’t from exhaustion, could feel some primal instinct dragging against my movements as I started back toward that ramp, jaw snapping shut to keep my teeth from clattering.

The flames were real now, glowing and hot and spreading far too quickly throughout the fore of that accursed ship. That’s where Wrecker and Tech were… My stomach lurched as I stepped back onto the ramp, and I had to brace my hand against the hull to keep my head from spinning, silently cursing myself for how quickly my heart raced, for the relentless phantom pains of wounds that had healed long ago… There wasn’t time for this… Lips pulling into a scowl, I tread quickly into the cabin once more.

The ship had crashed at a harsh angle, landing gear jutting uselessly above the scarred earth, rendering the walkway nearly unpassable without leaning heavily against the wall. I could feel the heat bleeding through my glove and tried not to obsess over the faint scent of burnt flesh lingering on the very edge of awareness.

These transports weren’t large – barely half the size of the Marauder, but each step felt near impossible from the daunting weight pulling me back toward the rear door. The heart of the ship was dark – the lights clearly having failed either from the initial impact or from the fire just peeking through rivetted sheets of durasteel, forcing me to rely on the night vision of my HUD. It almost helped – granted a layer of distance between myself and reality; as though I was watching a movie rather than having to traverse through another ruined transport rapidly being overtaken by burning fuel and the shoddy craftsmanship innate to the overworked Separatist shipyards. But then a groan would rise from somewhere beyond the internal paneling, reminding me how little time I had before the entire vessel would be engulfed, and that panic would arise anew.

“Wrecker!” I shouted as soon as the walkway opened slightly, “Tech!” but the cockpit before me was frozen in utter disarray; computer arrays lay strewn across the deck, shards of broken transparasteel catching the occasional flicker of flame roaring from the central hub. I knew that the heat drawing beads of sweat across my brow was no longer imagined, nor was the faint taste of burning fuel and electronics that even my bucket’s filters couldn’t cleanse from air growing heavy with smoke. It looked like interference on the HUD – static distorting the edges of broken interfaces and dangling display monitors.

“Wrecker!” Listening to the sound my own breath whistling through my coms had become a meditation in itself – forcing me to slow my breathing when it grew too quick as I moved rapidly through the ruined cockpit, “Tech!” pushing aside fallen panels and debris in search of either of my squadmates.

A groan instantly caught my attention, voice deep but weaker than I’d ever heard him, and, in the same heartbeat, I was racing forward.

“Wrecker?! Wreck, keep talking to me!” I pleaded even as I finally made out his form crumbled in the back corner of the room.

“…ow…” He grumbled, drawing a huff of laughter from me, but the breathless coughs that followed robbed even the glimmer of that precious taste of humor, curse catching on my tongue. He wasn’t wearing his helmet.

“Alright, we need to get you out of here.” I said, voice a careful blend of gentle yet firm as I finally reached him. “Think you can hold on to me?” His brows were drawn weakly together above eyes still clenched tightly against the pain and the smoke. His arm shifted toward me, but he made no effort to look, the movement clumsy and listless. I quickly pressed myself against his side, practically draping his entire torso over my upper back in an effort to carry enough of his weight to drag him out of here.

“Did… did we crash?” He asked, voice hoarse and slurred.

“Yeah.” I said with a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, you crashed. But I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” He responded only with a weary hum, but, when I tried to pull him upright, a sharp cry tore through the air before raising him even an inch, instantly turning my blood to ice as my stomach flipped.

“Wreck?! Wreck, where’s it hurt?” I was already setting him back down as the question left me in a rush, movements no less careful for how quickly I moved. He couldn’t answer at first, lips curled in a taut snarl.

“Kn… knee.” He finally grunted, voice thick with pain. Additional curses begged to drip from my tongue, but I forced myself silent if only to ensure the kind-hearted man beside me felt no guilt for the delay as I quickly retrieved my scanner once more. His chest bucked beneath a violent series of coughs, and I felt myself cringe at the raspiness of his strained breathing.

“Kriff…” I couldn’t hold it back any longer as I read the results, hands already tearing through my bag as I began explaining what I was doing to Wrecker. “Wrecker, honey, a couple things are going to happen pretty quickly, okay?” I didn’t wait for him to respond before continuing. “I’m going to give you something for the pain, and then I need to get that knee in a brace.” He tried briefly to open his eyes but closed them just as quickly against the ever-thickening smoke. “It’s not broken,” I assured him, autoinjector already in hand, “Just dislocated, but I can’t set it in here.” In truth, I didn’t think I was strong enough to set the joint alone even with him doped up on enough muscle relaxers to knock him out for days, but that was a problem we’d deal with later.

“Okay, quick pinch.” I warned, giving him barely a second to prepare before laying the device against his neck. His lips bunched tightly together in an almost petulant whine, and, even in the midst of the adrenaline flooding my veins, the urgency pushing me faster, I couldn’t dismiss the surge of affection that warmed my chest as the sight. “I know, sweetheart, I know; but it’ll help.” I murmured quietly, brace already set beside his injured leg. “Alright – if you can, take a deep breath and slowly let it out.” I instructed with an air of nonchalance that felt almost like a betrayal. As soon as his chest expanded, I slid my hands beneath his thigh and calf, and carefully lifted his leg onto the brace, wrenching that breath from him in a choked groan.

“Almost done.” I promised, allowing no hesitation before I began tightening the straps along the full length of the limb. His hand shook against the need to reach out and stop me before curling into a tight fist, head slamming against the wall behind him with a thud. “You’re doing so well, hon, last one.” He showed no sign of relief as I tightened that final strap, but I couldn’t let that stop me.

“All done. Now we need to get out of here.” I said, again pressing myself firmly against his side. His torso jerked with choppy breaths, each exhale a barely restrained cough. “Lean on me and try not to put any weight on that leg.” I didn’t need to say it, but I hoped hearing the confidence in my voice granted him some measure of reassurance as he struggled to shift his good leg beneath him.

Standard troopers tend to weigh around 180 pounds, with their armor adding an additional 80. Wrecker was not a standard trooper. I was already exhausted from hauling Hunter to safety. What fleeting reserves of strength garnered through dwindling bursts of adrenaline and a pure desperation that made my mouth dry and heart racing left me trembling, teeth ground beneath the effort, but proved just enough to lift him from the quickly warming floor. Had to hurry… Tech was still in here somewhere.

“I’ve got you, Wreck.” I had to whisper to hide the strain from my voice, carefully pulling him forward for that first, tentative step. “Just hold onto me, okay?” He finally seemed to be coming out of that initial shock of pain and confusion, eyes squinting but cracked just enough to glimpse the path ahead. “It’s not far – just need to get out of here.” He tried to speak, but the words broke into another coughing fit. Part of me wanted to tell him that this was why it was so important to keep his damn helmet on during missions, that flare of irritation driven solely by how worried I was for him, but that was also something that would have to wait.

I could hear his already choppy breaths catch with every jilted stride, watched as his head steadily dipped lower as the tension coiling through his massive form worsened beneath his vain efforts to bite back the torrent of coughs clawing up his throat and constricting his chest, but the closer we got to the exit, the quicker he moved.

He nearly collapsed the instant the cool night air hit him, finally yielding to lungs screaming from the heat and debris of the smoke. A sharp grunt escaped me as I hauled him forward, nearly dragging him toward the shallow ditch in which Crosshair still lay.

“…Cr…” His brother’s name caught between violent coughs.

“He’s alright – just got knocked out.” I nearly gasped, easing him down. As soon as he was settled, I reached into my bag once more. “Here; this will help.” I could barely speak from how quickly I was panting, again giving him barely a few seconds before pressing the autoinjector to his neck. By the time I returned the device to my bag, he was able to draw a slow, deep breath with only an occasional hitch.

After sparing a brief glance to confirm his blaster was still attached to his hip, I threw my pack back on and pushed myself back to my feet.

“D… Doc…” Wrecker mumbled.

“I have to go get Tech – I’ll be right back.” I was moving before I’d even finished speaking, ignoring the vertigo that wanted to drag me back to the ground. He said something else, but I was already too far away to hear him without the coms in his helmet to carry his voice.

The lights in the cabin barely flickered anymore, but sections of the far wall had begun to glow; wisps of flame dancing between bent paneling. The air was so thick with smoke, it felt like I was fighting against a current to reach the cockpit.

“Tech!” I knew it was foolish; still, as I searched through the carnage for Tech, I couldn’t help but keep an eye out for Wrecker’s helmet. “Tech!” The pilot’s seat was empty; one of the straps clearly torn from the force of the crash.

I was already mentally preparing myself for when I found him, because the alternative simply wasn’t an option: get whatever was veiling him from sight off of him, scan him for possible spinal damage, a step I’d tried to skip with Wrecker solely because of the smoke inhalation, and, barring any serious injuries, cart him to safety as well… then I could signal Echo to retrieve us… then I could treat Hunter, maybe get Echo’s help setting Wrecker’s knee… deal with whatever injuries Tech may have and ensure Crosshair was still okay… then… then I could breathe.

But when my initial search revealed nothing, that dread began to return.

“Tech!” Again, I screamed his name, no longer passively glancing through the wreckage as I, instead, began sifting through it at random; piling fallen panels together and kicking what debris remained aside as though my intent was to clean the useless ship rather than flee it, but the room was too big, and the fire was growing.

Curses flowing unrestrained from lips pulled into a scowl, I snatched my datapad, certain this, too, would be a waste of time… but I had to try something. Ear tuned for that familiar chime, I sent Tech a senseless message – whatever keys my fingers happened to strike at random before hitting send. Nothing. I moved to a different section and sent another. Nothing. I moved once again, and again heard nothing.

“Damn it! Come on!” I don’t know who I was shouting at; myself for my inability to find him; Tech for getting too hurt to answer me; the damn datapad for being too quite…

There! The entirety of my focus tuned in to the faint note, unsure if it had been my imagination; a futile flare of hope in the face of growing despair, but there was no doubting the sound that came once more mere seconds after sending yet another message.

The nav computer was nearly beyond recognition. Something had slammed into it hard enough to render half of it into jagged durasteel and cables that would surely have been sparking if power could still reach them. Movements more careful now, I set aside an overturned chair and what appeared to be the control board to the gunner’s station, and my teeth clicked from how tightly my jaw ground shut, air hissing in a sharp inhale as I finally set eyes on him.

His left arm had been caught on the torn metal, limb still twisted painfully above him as crimson dripped down the off-white plastoid of his rerebrace and shoulder pauldron. My body moved on instinct; retreating from any emotion into the simple knowledge of what I had to do. One hand slipped beneath the bottom edge of his bucket to find his pulse as the other retrieved my scanner, ignoring the flush of relief upon finding that strong, albeit rapid dance of his lifeforce beneath my fingers.

While the scanner slowly began listing off various bruises and abrasions beyond the gash carved into his arm, I wrenched a tourniquet from the quick-release pouch at my thigh. I was already clumsily easing the loop of braided nylon up toward his shoulder with one hand when the scan finished. Another minor concussion, but nothing that might grant me pause before moving him.

Something erupted behind us, just enough to buffet me with a tiny shockwave before showering me with a handful of what must have been nuts and bolts, wrenching a barked grunt from me as one burned a small hole through my blacks to scald my hip before clattering loudly to the ground. Ignoring the inconvenience, I finished lining up the tourniquet a few inches about the wound and began tightening it harshly until the bleeding stopped and he began to squirm weakly in pain.

“Hey, hey; you back with me?” The words fluttered thoughtlessly from my lips in some automatic attempt to garner a response from him as I ripped open a wad of gauze. A stifled grunt caught in his throat until I began wrapping the limb in a hasty bandage – something rushed and crude but just enough to offer some protection until I could replace it with something better.

“Ah!” The cry left him in an almost affronted gasp, head jerking up to find the source of his pain before his eyes darkened with understanding.

“Everyone’s okay!” I reassured him quickly, and the rush of relief that washed over him was palpable. “Can you stand?” He glanced down for just a moment, as though needing to confirm his legs were still there before forcing himself to move, but I could see the weakness in the attempt, hear the effort it took. I didn’t bother asking, body already moving to press against his uninjured side as my arm locked around his waist.

“I want you to hold on to me, okay?” There was a gentleness in the order, but it was an order nonetheless, and he wasted no breath in arguing, legs shaking violently beneath him as I pulled us both to our feet. His body leaned shamelessly against me, head hanging to his chest as he blindly allowed me to guide him through the ruined ship. As we reached the cabin, however, I paused.

“Wrecker?! What are-” Before I could finish the nearly shouted question, he turned just enough to reveal the limp form of a small child draped over his shoulder.

“Who the kriff is that?!”

Next Chapter

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[darkmoongodess]

2PM SLT RISE CORRUPTED WRESTLING

2PM SLT RISE CORRUPTED WRESTLING

★ 2PM SLT (Los Angeles) ★ 4PM CST (Chicago) ★ 5PM EST (NYC)

with our Comms: My Tie & Mr. Magic

This show is FREE FOR YOU, & Sponsored by Sloane, representing... Villains BDSM Erotica and Dance Club https://linktr.ee/villainsbdsmclub

In our first Match we see Kimberly one on one against Mila

Then Koa goes one more time against Chris Ryder

Then, Finally n our Main Event we will have the Mens Inter Continental Champion Hiram "The Dark Prophet" stepping in the Ring against Dark Lotus

Join us @ RISE ARENA https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Gigli%20Live/110/165/2001 ➥P.S. COMMS/PROMOS on Secondlife Voice, TURN IT ON, so you can hear us! (also take off any laggy HUDs tummy talkers/titlers etc)

[the-froschamethyst4]

Almost caught

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Father! Soap x Wife! Mother! f! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐warnings: smut, children, married couple, making out, wholesome, fluff, language

Y/n and Soap having a bit of fun after putting his children to sleep

But they didn’t realize they had accidentally woke up their children

Y/n and Soap were trying to comfort their children after thinking something was happening to their mama

—————

——————

9:40PM

Soap placed his son Ryker who is 5 years old into his bed for the night. His wife Y/n was carrying their 2 year old daughter Kiara into her baby bed.

Soap leaned against the door frame of Kiara’s nursery watching and listening to Y/n hum a sweet tune of their daughter. It was a tune Y/n hums to make her children sleepy.

Kiara was soon asleep and Y/n draped a soft pink blanket on her daughter. Y/n kissed her daughters forehead and headed out to the hallway with her husband.

“Both are asleep,” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Mhmm~” he just hums and swiftly he picks her up. Her back hitting the wall behind her almost knocking some of the pictures off the wall.

“SHH! Soap!”

“It’s fine, come on,” he said as they go to their shared bedroom.

Soap places her on the edge and he started to remove his sweatpants and boxers and helped Y/n remove her shirt, shorts and undergarments.

He started to kiss her lips and then her neck, he pushed himself inside of her, earning a soft moan.

"I'll go easy," he mumbles into her ear. She fell on her back as Soap placed his hands on the bed close to her waist and started to thrust slow.

She covered her mouth trying to muffle her moan from waking up their kids from their slumber.

"Come on, love, let me hear those moans."

"I-I," she stuttered, Soap picked up the pace a little bit more. She removed her hands and moaned as she felt his tip just barely hit her g-spot.

"Ahh! AHHHH! SOAP! S-Soap...sl-slow down, j-just a b-bit," she tried to say through heavy moans.

"Shhh, love, you don't want to wake up Ryker and Kiara," Soap teased.

"I-I'm trying n-not t-to," she moans out.

Soap just smirked at his wife trying to hold back her moans, but she can't, she screamed at the top of her lungs feeling his dick fully hit her spot.

"H-Holy f-fuck, J-John-" she moaned. Soap leaned down capturing her lips with his trying to keep her moans low.

--------

Ryker woke up to the sounds of loud thuds, moans and screaming. Ryker rubbed his eyes and let out a small yawn.

"Mommy?" Ryker says. He removed his blankets and touched the cold wooden floor. He opened his bedroom door and saw down the hall his parents' bedroom light still on and weird noises coming from inside.

Ryker was confused with all the noises and opened his little sister's bedroom door seeing her awake as well. She yawned and rubbed her tired eyes.

"Bubba," she says. He walks in and takes her out of her bed. "What are the...sounds?"

"They're coming from mommy's and daddy's room," he says as they walked down the hall to their parents' bedroom.

"AHH!" They heard their mothers voice coming from inside the bedroom. Kiara's eyes started to tear up, they both thought their mommy was getting hurt.

"Mama?!" Ryker calls from the other side of the door.

Y/n and Soap stopped after hearing their son's soft voice. Soap looked down at Y/n and they both rushed to get their clothes back on before Ryker opens the door.

"Mommy?" Ryker says as he peaked into the bedroom.

"Ryker, baby, what's wrong?" Y/n asks as she got out of the bed and went to her children.

"I-Is daddy h-hurting you?" Ryker asked. Kiara's tears ran down her cheeks and Soap saw them fall. He bent down but Kiara hid behind Ryker.

"W-What? No, your daddy wasn't hurting me," she tries to reassure her son and daughter.

"T-Then what was h-he doing?" He asks.

"Ryker, Kiara...we were-"

"Wrestling," Y/n lies, she was just trying to come up with a quick answer.

"O-Oh," Ryker says. Kiara came out from behind her older brother and hugged Soap.

"I would never hurt your mommy," Soap says as he kissed Kiara's temple.

"Then...why was she screaming?" Kiara asked.

"Because...I was losing," Y/n said.

"Oh then...WE'LL HELP YOU WIN MOMMY!!" Ryker and Kiara tackled Soap to the ground.

"Oh god!" Soap groaned as he was on his back with his kids pretending to hurt him. Y/n laughed that her kids would defend her like that.

"Okay, okay, thank you, you two but you two need to get back to bed," Y/n says.

"But mom~" Ryker groans.

"Come on," Y/n said. Ryker and Kiara took their mothers hands, and she took them to their beds to go back to sleep.

"Good night, Ryker, good night, Kiara," Y/n said, closing their doors and heading back to her bedroom.

"So...where were we?" Soap teased. Y/n started to remove her clothes again.

"I think I have a clue," she smirks getting back on the bed and kissing Soap.

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Britt wears the Play Renegade Trucker Hat from Steel City ($28) and the SL 364 Sunglasses in Brown Gold from YSL ($530)

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt. 5

WOOOHOOO I did it besties. College has been kicking my you know what but I managed to write another chapterrrrr.

Forgive any grammar errors please, most of this was written at 1am and I don't have an editor.

Hope you liiiiiiiiiike

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

Word count: 5.2k

Color bleeds into peaceful darkness like ink spilled in water. The transition from unconsciousness to lucid dream happens so seamlessly you barely register the shift. The world around you focuses and sharpens until you are once again standing in a desolate purple sky. Levitating chunks of rock are scattered as far as you can see. Some are massive, some are as small as river rocks. You realize, as you creep up to the edge of the floating island you’re standing on, that each one hovers above a terrifying void full of swirling dust and shining constellations. The stars look close enough to touch. You kick some loose pebbles off the side of your rock and watch them descend until they fade out of existence, having fallen farther than your eyes can see. A heavy feeling weighs on your stomach. There’s something off about this place. Your head is quiet, your chest hollow. You feel empty.

“Finally.”

You swing around, your hands raising on instinct to cast a defense spell. For the first time in your life you feel nothing when you reach for the weave. That hum of magic that has lived in your chest since you were too small to remember is missing somehow. 

You drop your useless hands to your side and brace yourself to run instead as a figure approaches you. Their expression is placating, their hands raised in a calming gesture one would approach frightened animals with. 

You try to look them over, but by the time your gaze makes it to their plain black boots and back up you realize they look nothing like you thought they did a second ago. 

Their eyes are a different color, their hair lighter, and the shape of their jaw is different. You start over, determined to memorize every detail. You stop at their hands this time. Was their skin always purple?

That thought is yanked from your head with a lurch. You know there is something missing, but not what. Your chest tightens, your throat burns, your body reacts to some horrifying revelation that you can’t remember. The tadpole in your head squirms.

“Relax.” The creature says in a dozen different voices. 

“I apologize for my unfinished appearance. You’re early, I haven’t had time to work on this form yet. I was trying to perfect one that would comfort you, or at least help you to trust me.”

You meet their gaze and watch their pupils widen and swallow the whites of their eyes. Bones shift subtly under their skin, their joints move and bulge. They grow a foot taller. Their bones audibly grind. 

You take a panicked step back. The shapeshifting creature lunges for you, but it’s too late. Your foot comes down on nothing but empty space, and you lose your balance with a gasp. Gravity sucks you into the void below. 

You don’t even have time to scream before it swallows you whole.

You startle awake, wrestling with the blanket that might as well be tied around you until you manage to kick free of it and sit up, your chest heaving with huge gulping breaths that somehow don’t provide you with any oxygen. The sweat that slicks your clothes to your skin cools in the night air and you hug your knees to your chest. The darkness of the night feels unnatural. Alive even. The large campfire set up in the middle of your bedrolls works valiantly to fight it off. 

You see that your companions are set up in a circle around it. Astarion, Gale, and Lae’zel are all accounted for. Flickering shadows dance over each of their sleeping faces. Strangely, you notice there’s a fifth bedroll occupied on the opposite side of the fire. You squint to try and make out any details but darkness completely obscures the figure. Did one of your companions invite another traveler to join your group? 

You roll to your feet and creep closer to the sleeping stranger, a vague outline of a body under blankets. They’re almost unnaturally still. As far as you can tell their chest doesn’t rise and fall with breath. Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s almost as if the light of the fire deliberately avoids them. The flickering orange light only touches the ground a hand's width from either side of their bedroll. You take another step, and then another, until the light of the fire abandons you too. The shadows here have weight. They lie on your skin and whisper in your ear. Hushed voices beg you to turn around, to go back to sleep, to forget. 

You shake them off and hold up your hand, casting an orb of light. The shadows scream as they’re dispelled, and a thick silence befalls the grove. There is no crackling fire, or leaves shaking in the breeze, there is only the blood rushing in your ears and your pounding heartbeat. 

There’s a human girl lying on her back under a fur blanket, pale and unmoving. She looks peaceful. Something about her seems so familiar. You kneel down to study her face, and wince when the leg of your pants soaks with something warm and wet. You hold the light over the bedroll and realize it’s drenched in a dark liquid. It reeks of rot and iron. 

You’re kneeling in a puddle of blood. 

Startled, you glance back up at the girl’s face. 

Her eyes are open. 

They’re clouded with death, but you remember them. The druid from the grove you couldn’t save.

A single tear falls from her eye.

The light in your hand winks out.

The shadows laugh.

You wake up with a gasp in your camp once more, tangled in your bedroll. The sky is decorated in the red and orange rays of the setting sun. Like before, the cold air all but freezes the sweat on your skin and wracks your body with shivers. The temperature drop from day to night was startling out here in the wilds. 

“I think I’m in hell” You hiss through chattering teeth.

“I never imagined the nine hells of Baator to be so frigid, but I suppose considering our luck it is a possibility.” A familiar voice responds.

You turn to find that Gale is tossing chunks of meat into a cauldron of boiling stew over the fire you’re lying next to. The smell of it is so sinfully good you almost start drooling. You don’t trust it. You stand on shaky legs and lean forward, poking Gale in the cheek.

Gale regards you with concern, his brow furrowed. He makes no move to push you away, but he looks deeply confused.

“I will admit, I haven’t exactly been a paragon of sociality these past few years, but I think I would have noticed if it suddenly became appropriate to greet someone by way of- whatever it is you’re currently doing.”

“As a paragon of sociality I must disagree, keep up the good work Tav.” Astarion calls from somewhere behind you. 

Gale glares at the vampire over your shoulder, but you pay no mind to their squabbling. Gale’s skin is warm under your finger.

“You feel so lifelike.” 

You grab him by the chin and tilt his head in every direction, looking for the flaw that will prove you’re still dreaming. 

He swats your hand away and leans as far back as he can away from your grasping fingers.

“Ooookay. I think the whole stabbing situation may have had more negative consequences than we originally thought. You should sit down.”

That’s a good idea. You can just wait here. You’ll have to wake up eventually.

You nod and unceremoniously plop back down on your bedroll. Your eyes are stuck unfocused and staring at nothing at all. Your mind is curiously empty. You think you should be feeling something, but honestly you’re just numb. 

A few moments later Astarion drops gracefully into a crouch in front of you, leaning down to catch your eyes.

“Hey Tav? What’s goin on?”

“I’m waiting to wake up.”

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish speaking before he strikes, bluntly flicking you between the eyes.

You rear back in shock and rub your stinging skin.

“This wouldn't be the first time someone's looked at me and assumed they were dreaming but you’re not asleep Tav.”

“What the fuck Astarion!?”

He smiles, eyes alight with smug satisfaction.

“There she is. You’ve been out of commission for far too long, hero. If I have to hear one more story about Gale’s glory days I’m going to beg you to kill me.”

Gale scoffs.

“Keep making comments like that and you’ll go to bed hungry.”

“He won’t be able to eat what you’re making anyway.” You attempt to remind Gale before you realize he doesn’t know about Astarion’s… special diet.

The vampire holds up his hand as if to flick you again, an evil glint in his eye.

You flinch back in genuine fear. Your forehead still stings, you’d like to avoid a repeat.

“Ah,” Gale nods in solemn understanding. “Allergies?” 

“Something like that” Astarion agrees, glaring at you.

You clear your throat nervously and glance around.

“Where is Lae’zel?” You change the subject.

“Just listen” Gale responds and tilts his head toward the trees just outside your encampment.

Sure enough you can hear the rhythmic thwack of steel on wood. 

“What is she doing?”

“We needed firewood, the Githyanki needed to violently take her anger out on a tree, everyone wins” Astarion shrugs.

“Didn’t she have a concussion?” You ask. Gale nods.

“I wouldn’t mention it if I were you. She’s rather put out about it. She’s fine though. The Druidic healers were most competent. All four of us have been thoroughly examined and healed of all ailments. Well, other than the tadpoles of course. We still have those. Other than that, any remaining injuries are purely psychological.”  

You nod, reminded of your nightmares.

“And how do I fix those?” 

Astarion reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask, tilting it toward you in offering.

You frown and shake your head, the idea of drinking on such an empty stomach makes you nauseous.

“You asked” he shrugs and tips the remaining contents of the flask into his mouth. He stands and offers you a hand, which you take, and pulls you easily to your feet. Your shoulder throbs in protest, and you start to wonder how “healed” it really is.

Gale loudly announces that the food is ready, prompting Lae’zel to trudge out of the forest a few moments later dragging a small tree behind her. It wrenches the plants from the earth and leaves a deep trench in the ground. 

Maybe you’ll avoid Lae’zel for the night. 

She seems a little upset in a way you’re not equipped to deal with. 

Astarion turns and strides into the forest, presumably to look for his own meal.

You serve yourself a massive portion and eat in appreciative silence, scarfing down the only food you’ve had since being kidnapped. 

When you’ve scraped the bottom of the bowl for every last drop, you turn to Gale, a question you’ve been dying to ask on the tip of your tongue. 

“Gale, you seem to know a bit about cera-“ you trail off as the name of your condition eludes you.

“Ceremorphosis?” Gale finishes for you, and you snap your fingers. 

“Yes! Ceremorphosis. I was wondering if you knew how long we have to… well- live?”

Gale’s expression sobers. He reaches down and grabs a few dry twigs, tossing them into the fire. 

“I only know what I’ve read, I have no first hand experience, but I’ve found the general consensus is seven days.” 

You nod, placing your bowl on the ground next to you as the food sours in your stomach.

“Six days to find a cure then. Surely more has been done with less” you mutter.

Gale nods and leans back on his elbows, studying the night sky.

“We’ll figure something out. I won’t die this way. I refuse to.” 

His conviction is almost strong enough that you believe him. Almost.

When the conversation dies out Gale retires to his tent to learn the spells etched into the scrolls he took from the grove merchant. Lae’zel pulls out her greatsword and begins hacking away at a wooden dummy, presumably left by one of the druids.

You turn your gaze to the crossbow haphazardly tossed to the ground near your bedroll. You had slept for hours after the battle, and Gale’s surprisingly good stew had energized you. There was no way you’d be able to sleep now. Out here on the sword coast the stars were bright enough to cast the grove in a soft blue light. Now was as good a time as any to learn a new skill. Besides, if you sit around wallowing in your impending doom for a moment longer you may take yourself out before the tadpole gets its chance to. You pick up the hefty weapon and stride into the forest, away from any potentially judgemental eyes. You walk for a long time. The dense forest is far too compact for you to practice with a ranged weapon in, so you hike until you stumble upon a small clearing.

You ready yourself and pull the bowstring back until you hear something click. So far so good. You load the bow with one of the five bolts that came with it and aim for the knot of a rather large oak tree. You pull the trigger and watch the bolt sail into the dark woods, far from the tree you were aiming for.

You shake it off, it’s your first attempt after all. You reload the crossbow, take aim, and once again watch as it disappears into the darkness. Maybe doing this at night in the forest wasn’t the best idea. Imagining digging through the bramble bushes to retrieve your missing bolts makes you wonder how bad ceremorphosis could actually be. As much as you don’t want to admit it, it rankles you that you’re terrible at this.

You lean against the nearest tree and slide down it, rubbing at your aching chest. You swear you can hear a clock ticking faintly in your ears. You have six days to live. The cold nights will give rise to the winter solstice in a month or two. If you had known last year’s celebration had been your last, maybe you would have actually celebrated it instead of locking yourself in your office and pouring over the mountains of paperwork your boss had asked you to look over. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, taking a deep breath through your nose. You allow the rustling leaves and the scent of the cool earth to calm you.

A twig snaps.

You freeze.

After a few moments of tense silence, you release the breath you’d been holding. You’re being paranoid. The most dangerous creatures in these woods are bears, and the druids seem to have befriended most of them. You’re safe.

You take a few more deep breaths when you hear it again, a branch snapping along with heavy breathing, from a rather large creature as far as you can tell.

You scramble to arm the bow with a bolt and hold it defensively in front of you. 

You haven’t managed to hit a target once, but whatever roams these woods doesn’t need to know that.

The breathing gets louder as the creature draws closer, snapping branches and crunching leaves under its heavy feet.

You watch as a snout emerges from the bushes in front of you, followed by tusks. A boar shoves its way through brambles and into your little clearing. It spots you, then your crossbow. Its eyes widen with a recognition you didn’t realize boars were capable of. It squeals and whips around, its legs scrambling beneath it as it flees back into the dark forest. You breathe a sigh of relief and lower the crossbow, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll need instruction if you ever hope to use it. 

“What are you doing?” Someone asks so close to you, you feel their breath caress the shell of your ear.

You yelp in shock and drop the crossbow on your foot, letting out a slew of curses a sailor from the pirate isles would blush over.

Astarion is crouched behind you, one hand on the tree you’re leaning against, an exaggerated look of disappointment on his face.

“If I were a monster you’d be dead right now.”

“You’re an undead vampire, I think you qualify, and yet-” You pause to press two fingers to the pulse point in your neck, 

“Yep. Still alive!” You shout.

The boar squeals in the woods somewhere, startling you. Astarion grips his stomach and laughs from somewhere deep in his chest.

“What is it with you and pigs?” You hiss. 

“You’re lucky the wilds are full of those boars you know. I go long enough without feeding and our friends' necks start looking very appetizing.”

You sigh and throw your head back in exasperation, perhaps slightly too hard. Acting on reflex, Astarion catches the back of your head before it can slam into the bark of the tree behind you.

“You’re welcome” 

“I don’t have the energy to banter with you Astarion. Leave.”

He promptly does the opposite and takes a seat next to you, leaning against your tree.

“What’s gotten into you?”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Mind flayer larvae.”

“Ah. So all this moping is about the illithid.”

“I’m not moping.” 

“Yes, you are, and you have every reason to.”

“So do you. According to Gale the tadpoles kill their hosts within a week's time. It doesn’t bother you that we might die soon?”

“My circumstances are… different.”

The response confuses you. The way you see it, everyone that survived the nautiloid is in the exact same situation.

“How so?”

Astarion presses the heel of his hand into his chin and cracks his neck on either side, stalling for time as he thinks of an answer. He sighs.

“If we fail, and I die in the wilderness somewhere a few days from now, I will have traded an eternity of darkness and starvation for a week of sunlight and freedom. Obviously I’d rather not die. I’d give just about anything to live long enough to give Cazador the brutal death I’ve been fantasizing about for oh- a couple hundred years now. But if I don’t get that chance, at least I will die as Astarion, not Cazador’s pet.”

You place a hand over your chest, genuinely moved and only slightly disturbed by that explanation.

“Astarion that was beautiful'' You turn and press your lips together in suppressed laughter at the regretful look on his face.

“No no no, you keep moping, your life has gotten dramatically worse. Continue being sad about it.”

“Well that was the plan but now I’m all inspired by your optimism in the face of imminent death.”

Astarion groans and pushes off the tree.

“That’s disgusting. I’m not an optimist.”

Your answering smile shows all your teeth.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I thought you weren’t in the mood to banter.”

“What can I say? You bring it out of me.”

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head. His face lights up with some epiphany, and he yanks two crossbow bolts out of his belt to wave them in front of your face.

“Missing something?”

You snatch the bolts from his hand with a grumbled thank you.

His expression remains passive but his eyes fill with mischief. 

“How did you get these?” 

“I was on my way back from my meal when I almost lost an eye to one of them.” He taps his finger against the razor sharp tip of one of the bolts in your hand. 

“It’s how I found you in the first place.”

He motions toward the crossbow resting on the ground by your feet. 

“I can show you how to use that. If you’d like.”

You were just thinking about how you needed someone to show you how to properly shoot the thing. Maybe a distraction is exactly what you need.

“I would.”

He leans down and picks up the crossbow. He loads and fires it within seconds, pinning a falling leaf to the trunk of a nearby tree.

You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Just making sure it works.”

You expect Astarion to teach the way he does everything else, by flirting with you in a way that makes you wonder if he’s trying to seduce you or eat you. You brace yourself, but the witty remarks don’t come. Astarion simply shows you how pulling back the bowstrings unevenly can make it hard to aim, the timing of when to pull the trigger, and how to account for the wind. He’s a fantastic tudor, and he whistles loudly when you hit your target for the first time. You go from being unable to hit anything to being able to hit within the general vicinity of your chosen mark most of the time within an hour or so. 

“That’s all the basics. Your aim isn’t exactly spot on but that’s not something I can teach you. You need to trust your instincts more.”

“My instincts are broken” You sigh.

“I’ve noticed,” he says darkly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’ve spent the last hour or so alone in the dark woods with someone you know would eat you alive given half a chance.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, that would completely negate the whole saving me from the goblin thing earlier. Besides, you just had your fill of boar blood, you can’t still be hungry.”

“You adorable, naive little thing. I wasn’t talking about drinking your blood.”

You shove at his shoulder as hard as you can and he stumbles a step to the side, chuckling like the deviant he is. You’re almost relieved to have the relentless flirt back. The patient encouraging version of Astarion that taught you how to shoot a crossbow was harder to wrap your brain around.

He sobers quickly.

“Does it scare you?” He asks suddenly, as if he couldn’t hold back the words anymore.

“What?” You ask.

“What I am.”

Oh.

“Honestly?”

“Well I didn’t ask you to test your deception skills.”

“Yes.” You answer plainly, and Astarion nods, his expression intentionally neutral.

“Your instincts may not be so broken after all.”

As you gather the scattered bolts from the trunks of surrounding trees, an odd sensation builds in the center of you. You feel… guilty? Astarion both defended you and taught you how to defend yourself in one evening, and you hadn’t done a single thing for him. You feel like you owe him, and you hate owing people.

You know he despises being thanked, but maybe he wouldn’t mind exchanging one favor for another.

You place the bolts in your quiver and return to Astarion.

“I have something for you.”

His blank expression flickers with an emotion you can’t pinpoint.

“Should I be nervous?”

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the amulet you procured from the druid merchant. You hold it between you, watching the pendant sway instead of meeting his eyes.

“It’s a magical item. It allows a person, even someone not versed in magic, to use the spell contained within it. This one holds misty step. It’s a short-distance teleportation spell. You’re our archer, so I thought you could use it to find high ground in a fight faster than if you had to climb for it.” You brave a glance up.

Astarion reaches for the amulet, then drops his hand back down to his side. He looks almost scared of it.

“It won’t bite you.” You joke- an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“I just- I haven’t been given a gift in over two hundred years.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t surprise you.

“I’d like to change that, if you’ll let me.”

He holds out a hand and you drop the pendant into it. He examines it for a moment.

“I have no idea how to use this.” 

You smile.

“I could teach you, if you’d like.”

~~~

“I’m beginning to think there is no magic in this necklace and you’re just testing how long I’ll fall for your tricks.” Astarion growls several minutes later from his meditative position on the ground. 

You sit next to him, your legs crossed in an identical position, your head tipped back. 

“As I said, magic casting isn’t a physical skill, it's a metaphysical one. If you can’t reach for the amulet you won’t move an inch.”

Astarion opens one eye to make sure you’re not looking and reaches for the necklace.

“With your soul not your hand.” 

He drops his hand back into his lap.

“I don’t have one of those darling.”

“It’s a figure of speech darling.” 

He opens one eye again and smirks.

“Careful” He warns in an eerily hypnotic voice, and the hair on the back of your neck rises.

You rub the tingling skin and fix your companion with an admonishing look. 

“Keep your vampire mojo to yourself and focus.”

He closes his eyes and bows his head. His mess of curly white hair immediately falls over his face. He looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him.

“The magic in the amulet can be felt. It’s full of unreleased energy. It wants to connect with you. All you have to do is allow it. Imagine your consciousness can move independently of your body and reach out to it.”

Astarion’s face scrunches in concentration, and you wait patiently as he tries to connect with the amulet.

A twinge in your skull makes you wince, distracting you. It feels different from the tadpole’s usual antics. Something clicks into place, and you feel a new presence slide into your already crowded mind. Astarion had linked you two somehow.

You feel the exact moment he realizes he’s not alone in his own head. His eyes shoot open and the connection snaps as quickly as it formed.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I think I reached too far.”

“I wanted you to use the amulet not possess me!”

“You possessed me back!”

“Okay, it’s fine, just- try again. Aim for the amulet this time.”

Astarion closes his eyes again and you stare up at the stars, praying to whatever god was listening for patience.

His gasp brings you back down to reality, and when you face Astarion again his eyes are swirling with silver light.

You scramble to your feet and hastily back up several paces.

“We only get one shot at this until your next rest so make it count. Focus on the ground in front of me and just take a step. You should end up exactly where you want to be.”

He stands slowly, and stares pointedly at the ground at your feet. He lifts his foot, and disappears.

He apparates again no more than an inch away from you, and you lurch back in surprise, stumbling over your own feet. You reach out for something to grab to slow your fall, the closest thing happening to be Astarion, and you take him down with you.

He lands sprawled on top of you with a groan, and you wheeze as the breath is knocked out of you.

Astarion pushes himself up on his elbows, your noses an inch apart. His eyes still glow, the after effects of the spell he cast. He looks almost like a normal elven man in the moments before his usual red bleeds back in, crowding out the silver. You think about his question from earlier, does it scare you- what I am? A vision of a non-vampiric Astarion fills your mind. His eyes metallic, his skin tone warmer, his canines short and dull. This version is in no way preternaturally graceful. His gait is hurried, even clumsy at times. The sharpest thing he ever handles is a letter opener, and occasionally, he slips up and slices his finger when he’s rushing to get done with his work. The sight of the red blood that drips onto the white paper makes him woozy, so he rushes for a bandage, hastily wrapping the wound while refusing to look at it. He isn’t the most observant, but he’s whip smart, and a talented orator. He’s a little cocky but with the bright future ahead of him he has every right to be. He ascends to the role of magistrate in no time. He makes mostly fair judgments, but the lower city of Baldur’s Gate is cut throat, and one night on his way back home from a long night, he turns down the wrong street. 

For better or worse that elf died that night. The man you know is someone else entirely, and has been for centuries. It was the vampire, not the mortal, that saved your life earlier in the day.

Your shoulder throbs when your thoughts shift to earlier in the day. You see in your mind the goblin that sunk its jagged blade into your shoulder, and the murderous look in its dull yellow eyes. The arrow that pierced its neck had spared you a dreadful end.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Astarion’s eyes cut to your shoulder. His smirk fades, and he pulls down the collar of your shirt just enough to reveal your new scar. Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, he traces the raised red line with his thumb. His cool skin feels amazing against the still-healing angry scar, and you can’t help the shudder that moves through you. Astarion’s gaze returns to yours, and you’re surprised to find his expression is absolutely wrathful.

“I killed that wretched creature far too quickly,”

“Personally I thought your timing was spot on.”

“Hmm.” Is his only response.

In a moment you become hyper-aware of every place his body touches yours. He’s settled on top of you, one leg between yours, most of his weight propped on his elbow, his other hand still stroking that damn scar. It’s becoming hard for you to think clearly. He on the other hand seems wholly unaffected, lost in his murderous thoughts. You clear your throat to get his attention.

“You can get up now.”

He seems to realize as you did the rather intimate position you two landed in, and a smile slowly creeps onto his face.

“I’m rather comfortable where I’m at”

You know he’s instigating, but the bait is too tempting. 

“Move or I’ll move you.”

His smile turns devious.

“You think you can?”

There’s a challenge in that question. One you’re not entirely sure you can meet. Still, you lift your chin defiantly.

“I do”

He leans in, his jaw brushing your cheek as he brings his mouth to your ear.

“Very convincing.” He whispers, “I’d believe you if I couldn’t hear how fast your heart is racing.” 

You can’t think of a witty retort. 

You can’t think at all.

He leans back with a self satisfied look you desperately want to wipe off his smug face.

So, you reach up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and do the only thing you know will surprise him.

You bring his mouth to yours.

~~~~

Gettin shpoicy

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[i-have-a-goal]

I had said a few days ago I would be posting my tips on how I lose weight the fastest & how i got it done being in sports that enabled this ♡ so here I go:

Btw- just need to say this quickly- I don't condone this and get help if you are able to ♡ much luv

Okay with that here it is teehee:

☆ Okay so When I was in wrestling, we had to make sure we made weight- no if . If you were 6 lbs over then you had to find a way to lose 6lbs by Saturday. When I was put in this situation, some of the girls would 🤮 of course, but I wasn't a fan of the taste so I def took alternative routes such as

1. Calorie Deficit= DUH. Obv. Duh. For safety reasons I'm going to say 1,400 max (which isn't much In real life lol) but I would eat around 800-1,200 max for this. I wouldn't really say I watch what I eat, but I'm also not just downing pure doritos and mountain due. I'll have chips but I'll also eat fruits.

2. Working out/ cardio= I know.. it's a bummer isn't it? But I'm being 1000% honest with you, calorie deficit combined with hot cardio is the key to losing weight quickly. This is what we all did to make sure we were at the correct weight within 7 days. And it's not walk around the block or sit on the floor and do donkey kicks either... it doesn't have to be extremely intense, but you do want to make sure you're sweating the whole time. ☆ bonus points for putting on 2-3 jackets and pajama pants or hot sweats when u workout!! It does a lot of the job for you. For me, my go to would be using the treadmill (I don't even run girl I have it on level 3 and do this for 30 mins while listening to music and day dreaming about my cute skinny future self- and I still sweat like crazy) I also do the same thing on a indoor bike. Like I said, it doesn't have to be sprints or anything crazy , just something that keeps you moving enough to be hot = sweat. Think of jumping Jacks, planks, butterfly kicks, ladder climbs, etc. Also if you have a jacket with a Hoodie, def tie the hoodie secured so u can sweat more! It works I promise.

3. if you have the time, try to workout whatever you just ate sooner than later. For example, ate an apple? That's 95 cals, nothing a 25 minute walk can't burn off 👍🏻

4. DRINK YOUR WATER. I know everyone says it BUT there's a reason they do okay. Water keeps your lips hydrated and soft. Water will keep your body hydrated, water will help keep you full (to an extent if im going to be honest) if you feel hungry after drinking water, try sucking or chewing on ice- water's cousin ♡ they go hand in hand. Also- I add chia seeds to my water for the fiber and mint leaves with lemon and Cucumber in another ( I have different cups) the mint drink helps with bad breath (from not eating) AND speeds your metabolism = lose weight faster. I also drink green tea for the same benefits + 0 calories so yay ♡

5. FOOD EXAMPLES. Chances are, If you're too focused on how hungry you are and how much it sucks that you can't have fatty foods- you'll break. You won't succeed. So let's make it as beautiful as we can. By that I mean the dishes you make. Some popular dishes we would do within the sport was 6-8 leafs of big crunchy Romaine lettuce with lemon and salt over them. That's around 10-15 calories. Another one was thin slices of tomatoes with salt. Get creative and add seasoning if needed ✨️ if you like spicy food then you're in luck cause adding spice to anything fills u up quicker:-) a good spicy choice I do is steamed garbanzo beans with tapatio. Another good (non spicy) option is steamed artichoke with light Mayo! Get fancy here guys yall can steam so many vegetables and have so many nice looking meals 😊

6. STAY CONSISTENT = I know it's easier said than done, but when you're about to grab that pizza, understand that you're conscious enough to make the decision to not eat it. If your body is fighting with your brain, then you have to trick one of them. Yes, be delulu. Tell yourself it isn't good. Tell yourself the pizza is just another thick slab of grease with artificial cheese over it. Think of how you'll feel once you eat it. Think of the grease lard and calories you're shoving down your throat. Convince yourself it's disgusting. Eventually, you will find it disgusting. And this can work the opposite way as well ✨️ glorify thin slices of fruit. The satisfying way it feels to eat low calorie naturally sweetened fruits from earth. Same with veggies and water and anything 0 calories.

If I have any other advice ( which I'm sure I do I can't just think at the moment!! Smh) then I'll be posting them on this account so follow me for more content but if there's 1 thing to take from all this, it's this:

Self-discipline & self-control

So many of us don't get to our goal weights because of these 2 right here. Find the self control to not eat the food your family brought home. Find the self discipline to carry on your good habits of eating minimal & healthy and gradually make your way to the end goal ✨️

I believe in you all! We got this, one day at a time 💕

[little-shadow-club]

Incorrect Monarchs (+others) Quotes

Just in case index:

Ashborn (Shadow Monarch) Antares (Destruction Monarch) Brightest (Brightest Fragnment of Brilliant Light) Queresha (Plague Monarch) Tarnak (Iron Body Monarch) Raikan (Beast Monarch) Sillad (Frost Monarch) Ammut (Tarnak's former teacher. SL Ragnarok character) Legia (Monarch of titab's beginning ) Yogummunt (Monarch of transfiguration) Absolute Being

Ammut (Former teacher of Tarnak, hc: father figure)

This is all just headcanon feel free to read at your own risk

Tarnak to Jinwoo: Ha! What are you gonna do? Stab me? Five minutes later Tarnak, calling 911: HELP, IVE BEEN STABBED.

-

Brightest: Forgive me Father, for I have sinny-sin-sinned.

-

Absolute Being: I assume you realize that this kind of idiocy will not be tolerated in this house. Brightest: Is there any kind of idiocy you would be more comfortable with?

-

Tarnak: finds half a watermelon at Whole Foods Tarnak, holding it up for everyone to see: LIES!

-

Brightest: You know what your problem is? Antares: I only have one?

-

Absolute Being: You know, people treat me like a god. Yogummunt: How? Absolute Being: They ignore my existence unless they need something.

-

Antares: I have yet to encounter a problem where a sword didn't factor into the solution at least in some way.

-

Yogummunt: Queresha… Queresha: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

-

Legia: Rules were made to be broken. Brightest: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Tarnak: Uh, piñatas. Ashborn: Glow sticks. Sillad: Karate boards. Yogummunt: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Legia: Rules. Brightest:

-

Legia: Where the hell is Yogummunt? Tarnak: Well, it is raining outside… Maybe they melted? Raikan: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?

-

Ashborn: Queresha, you need to react when people cry. Queresha: I did. I rolled my eyes.

-

Tarnak, on the phone: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee! Ammut: Friend of Yours? Tarnak: Nope, wrong number. Ammut: ???

-

Tarnak: Are you alright? Ashborn: Short answer or long answer? Tarnak: Short? Ashborn: No. Tarnak: Long? Ashborn: Nooooooo.

-

Antares: What is wrong with you? Ashborn: Loaded question. Elaborate.

-

Queresha: Do you have a superpower? Ashborn: Hindsight. Queresha: …that’s not going to help us. Ashborn: Yes, I see that now.

-

Tarnak: I think it’s time I get my life in order. Sillad, narrating: But they did not get their life in order. In fact, they got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

-

Tarnak: Can we go to a haunted house? Ashborn: What’s wrong with the one we live in? Tarnak: Wh-what? Ashborn: Goodnight, Tarnak.

-

Antares: You know, there’s only one person in this world who can tell you what you are. Raikan: Me. Antares: No. Antares: Me.

-

Queresha: What's the scariest horror movie you've ever watched? Yogummunt: IT. Legia: Annabelle. Raikan: Paranormal Activity. Ashborn: High School Musical. All throughout high school I was scared that everyone was gonna randomly get up and start singing and dancing, and I would be the only one who doesn't know the words.

-

Yogummunt: I am strong! I beat Raikan at arm wrestling! Ashborn: Anyone can beat Raikan at arm wrestling. Raikan: Hey-

-

Brightest: Here you go, Sillad, a nice hot cup of coffee! Sillad: It's cold. Brightest: A nice cup of coffee. Sillad: It's horrible! Brightest: Cup of coffee. Sillad: I'm not sure if this even IS coffee. Brightest: C U P.

-

Antares: If the Absolute Being is ever been mad at anything I’ve ever said, he hasn’t done shit about it. Antares: So he either doesn’t care or he’s a coward.

-

Yogummunt: Lol. Heads up if you try to make a magic-square candle with food coloring from deseased golems, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the inextinguishable flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your seven-colored-elixir tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this. Ammut: What did you do Yogummunt? Yogummunt: a Mistake.

-

Raikan: I’m a reverse necromancer. Ashborn: Isn’t that just killing people? Raikan: Ah, technically.

-

Ashborn, after dealing with Baran and Raikan and taking a vacay for the emotional baggage that day: Hey. Queresha: pissed off You… complete …ASS, Ashborn! You show up here after WEEKS, and you say “hey”?!

-

Yogummunt: Today at 7 am, Antares poured a Monster energy drink in their coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing. Queresha: I watched Antares brew their coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think they ascended into the astral realm. Raikan: The survivability of the dragon race never fails to amaze me.

-

Rulers: Now, Ashborn, all of us are doing this because we care about life, okay? Absolute Being, ready to create a new monarch: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

-

Queresha: What did you order this morning? Ashborn: What do you mean? Queresha: I heard you answer the door, and I sensed food.

-

Ashborn knowing he can't die: I think we should have glow stick juice injected in our bones when we're born, so if we break our bones, we get a fun little surprise. Raikan: What's the surprise? Antares: Blood poisoning.

-

[delopsia]

Thinking about autumn in Wabang.

When the sweltering heat subsides into chilly afternoons and crisp breezes that nip at your skin. The crickets chirp a little louder, and the tree in the front yard transitions from vivid green to warm yellows and reds. Delicate leaves falling from sturdy branches and landing in the driveway, crunching beneath the tires of an old blue GMC Sierra.

It's that time of year when Rhett comes home with furrowed brows and frigid hands, grumbling about how "it's 'bout time we get them damn shirts outta the attic again." And gradually, his wardrobe begins to shift to thick flannels, cozy hoodies, and hefty jackets that insulate heat a little too well.

Those rodeo nights grow colder, and the adrenaline-laced kisses that follow get a little warmer. Festivals pop up in the fields around town, pumpkins mark the corners of Wabang streets, and corn fields are converted into twisting mazes. Fragments of broken leaves cling to the wild curls that rest on the back of Rhett's neck, picked up from wrestling with farm dogs and napping beneath trees.

Saturdays are consumed by venturing to neighboring towns to visit festivals, buying decor that you don't need, and sharing treats that you've never heard of before. The house perpetually carries the warm scent of the season. Rhett's lips taste like caramel apples and cider.

"Rhett," your palms roam across those thick, broad shoulders as you sneak up behind him, "is that apple cider or beer?"

His head tilts backward, messy hair bumping into your cheek, peering up at you through thick lashes, "You'll have to kiss me to find out."

You already know that it's cider.

It's always cider.

But you kiss him anyway.

Cowboys are the first to notice the change in the seasons. Can detect the first golden leaf of the season simply by the scent of the air. Overly familiar with the sight of extravagantly colored leaves and the musky, sweet scent that they bring. Seeing it so often that such a sight should be boring.

Yet, Rhett insists on those cheesy nature walks anyway. Content to hold your chilly hand in his as your shoes crunch through a leaf-littered path, marveling at the beauty of the season.

Sometimes those walks are filled with endless conversation, laughter loud enough to rattle leaves off trees, so wrapped up in your stories that you hardly recall what you saw. Others are quiet. No need for words as you sit on a frigid bench, unable to shiver because a warm arm has long since wrapped around your shoulders.

Sometimes the days are too cold for just an arm.

Those days end in a heavy jacket resting over your shoulders instead. Your hands tucked into pockets filled with hard candies and an oddly shaped rock that he found. And it's like the first days of your relationship all over again, giggling, bickering about who needs the jacket more, and rubbing cold noses together.

There are things that never change.

Just as the forests change color every year, Rhett brings you his jacket during every frosty rodeo. Always seems to come wandering over when the temperature drops and your skin has begun to go numb from the sharp bite of the wind.

"Y'look awful cold, darlin'," he hums, his breath like smoke, puffing past his lips in thin, wispy clouds.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready to ride?" The crowd erupts into a roar of cheers as you speak, nearly erasing your voice entirely.

That big arm slides around your waist, drawing you up to his burning chest, frozen lips stealing a kiss, "I got a couple minutes to spare."

He leaves you with a heavy coat draped over your shoulders, a lazily scrawn note hidden in the left pocket.

'Everything s'more fun with you :)

Archie's having a bonefire tonight. Wanna go?'

And, of course, your answer is yes, because Archie's bonfires are nothing short of spectacular. His speakers always softly hum the tune of indie artists you've never heard of, and though there's alcohol, it's never the center of the event. His wife ventures out in her pajamas, sleepily making conversation with you as Rhett and Archie argue over their idea of a perfect roasted marshmallow.

"Y'aint got a fuckin' lick of sense 'n you know it, Rhett!" If Archie's hands weren't preoccupied with crafting his wife's obligatory s'more, they'd be waving in the air. "What kinda fool chooses to char the shit outta their marshmallow?"

Rhett's head shakes, fumbling with a graham cracker, "I do!"

And that's all it takes before Archie's attention turns to you, defiantly ignoring Rhett. "Yer boyfriend's got more teeth than he does sense."

Despite the warm, crackling fire, these nights always end the same. Tumbling through the front door, all cold noses and frozen hands as you both make a mad dash for the shower, each vying to be the first to hop beneath the hot water. Limbs awkwardly tangling and bodies bumping into one another because this shower wasn't meant for two.

Then comes the honorary plaid blanket as you snuggle on the couch, not ready to sleep yet, but getting there. Your head against Rhett's chest, heart thumping in your ear, his unshaven chin scratching at your forehead.

You don't recall falling asleep, but the next time you open your eyes, you're in bed. Wrapped up in the arms of a snoring cowboy, flakes of snow pitter-pattering off the windows, listening as he sleepily asks for just five more minutes.