#the way he panics at certain things the way he closes off and refuses help from strangers even if they desperately need it

[wingedarrows]

I love Valor and Flicker so much okay. They are everything to me. Valor is not usually a very touchy person except with Flicker, who he hugs whenever they look sad in any capacity, because they are the one person that he has never had any period of distrust of, because they are like him and they are baby and he watched them dig out of the ground and they are his to care for. They are his and he would do anything to protect them.

And they do it right back. If they see him sad in any way they will crawl into his lap and hug him because he seems like he needs a hug. He has been through far too much and they want to give him comfort. Valor may take care of them but they will protect him as well. So they train, they train in martial arts and they train in magic and they even train with weights. Their first memories are of a dying brother collapsing in the snow and them being far too weak to properly drag him anywhere that could help.

They won't let that happen again. They can't.

They mean so much to each other, and they will do everything to care for and protect each other, and I just. I love them so much.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 4.2k

summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

warnings: a mild start of a anxiety attack at the beginning, suggestive dancing, stripping, coming untouched, awkward moments, reader's first time at a strip club, unprofessional situations, mutual pining, sexual tension, use of good girl once

a/n: this idea was born whilst we were talking with @fuckyeahdindjarin about stripper!frankie and ofc since both of us are unhinged about a certain cowboy, the conversation steered naturally in the direction of stripper!jack ❤️‍🔥 I'd like to add that I've never been to a strip club and everything here (especially the dances) are born from me watching way too many male stripping tutorials and google searches, so it might not be %1000 authentic buuuuut hopefully it's fun nonetheless!

click for part two of the stripper!jack series

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Your eyes are glued to the neon sign right above the bar. It flickers a bright pink, then purple, then red. In capital letters, it says: PEEP SHOW, and underneath it there’s a heart and in that, a keyhole. 

The music isn’t loud enough to leave you deaf, thankfully. You’re not sure you could’ve handled music blaring from the speakers like you were in a dance club. Make Up Sex by SoMo plays in the background, you gently sway with the rhythm refusing to look at the stage. The thumb of your right-hand traces over the knuckles of your left. You notice the bartender and tear your gaze from the sign.

He stands behind the counter, his presence radiating a magnetic charm. With a physique sculpted to perfection, he possesses an air of rugged masculinity. His hazel eyes hold a captivating depth, and his confident smile hints at a mischievous nature. As he moves with grace and confidence, he threads his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair.

“You look like you might need a drink,” he teases, his smile bright and comforting. “Anything I can help you with?” 

“Uh. . . a greyhound please?” 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he replies, taking a step back as if about to leave. But then, he pauses, leaning in close. His breath gently fans your skin, a rush of excitement flooding your veins. “And just some friendly advice, try to relax. We promise we don’t bite,” he says with a wink and goes off to prepare your drink. 

You’re frustrated. Have you truly been that obvious? Who are you kidding— of course you have. You’re alone at a male strip club staring at the neon sign rather than the stage. Of course, they can tell you’re new here. You sigh and look around. The establishment is surprisingly neat. You notice a bachelorette party taking place not that far away from you, they seem to be having fun, screaming as a stripper sways his hips from side to side. He looks good. Chiseled abs, shiny chest, the whole thing shebang. 

Your heart sinks into your chest. You hate being alone and you’re so incredibly tired of it. Everyone you know is either busy or doesn’t care enough to spare you even an hour. It’s been two years since your last relationship and you swear the lack of company is eating you alive. It would be fine if you had a couple of distractions, like going out with friends maybe, but that proved to be an impossible ask. You’re not even sure why you’re so bothered. You do a lot of things alone. You enjoy your own company. Yet, for some reason seeing everyone together, having fun is more difficult today compared to other days. Your chest collapses on itself, your pulse quick under your skin. 

Suddenly it's very hard to breathe. 

You take short, sharp breaths, filling your lungs with the scent of musk and strawberries. 

Your chest continues to heave—Shit, are you about to have a panic attack in a freaking strip club? Now that will surely be in your top five most embarrassing moments. Nothing even happened, why are you feeling like this?

“You a’right there darlin’?” 

A voice smooth as honey reaches your ears. It curls around your body and keeps you still. Goosebumps flare across your skin, the small hairs that are scattered over the back of your neck standing with attention. Slowly, you turn. 

It’s one of the strippers, at least you assume it’s one of the strippers. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and some low-hanging jeans. He’s wearing a white mesh top underneath. You find yourself unabashedly gawking at him. You’re not sure how long you stare but you’re hoping it only lasted for a second. And if you’re really lucky, he wouldn’t have even noticed. 

In contrast to the other strippers you’ve seen so far, he appears slightly older with a softened stomach, yet possesses a lean physique sculpted by years of dance.

You swallow thickly, forcing your gaze back up. He’s clean-shaven except for a dark mustache, he’s smiling but you see a hint of worry in his gaze. Narrowing your eyes, you notice a small gold sticker in the shape of a star under his right eye. 

“I’m. . .” you swallow again and shake your head. You’re dumbfounded. “I’m okay, thanks.” 

The bartender places the greyhound you ordered, at the same time the stripper extends a hand, “Whiskey,” he says in a sultry way. You squeeze his hand and raise your eyebrows, your shake is a bit weak. 

“Whiskey?” you ask. He lets go of your hand and you bring it to your forehead, nervous laughter escaping you. “Oh, it’s your stage name. Of course.” 

His crooked smile is intoxicating, the tip of his tongue moves over his teeth. “My parents would have to hate me to name me ‘whiskey’ sugar,” he answers, rubbing his chin. A moment of silence follows as he thinks, ”Well, my real name ain’t any less embarrassing now that I think about it.” 

You want to ask him his real name but end up biting your tongue instead. You can’t ask him that, it would be rude, and even if you did you doubt that he’ll tell you. Pressing your lips tightly together, you drop your gaze to your drink. You curl your fingers around it. The sudden cold against your skin calming you. 

“First time?” he asks and you nod. “May I ask why you’re here then, so I can be of service?” 

That’s a good question. Why are you here? 

“I think to have some fun,” you mutter as you drag your thumb over the cool condensation. “I’m just. . .” you shake your head. “Nevermind, that’s stupid. Let’s just say I’m here to have some fun.” 

Whiskey observes you for a moment. His chocolate gaze taking in every detail of your expression. Are all strippers this attentive? you think, heat crawling up your spine. His hand slowly slides over the smooth bar until his fingers are gently resting above your wrist. You suck in a breath. His thumb moves over to the inside of your wrist, tracing the vein that pulses violently. 

“How about a private dance?” he asks slowly, as if you might bolt out the doors at any given second. “I promise to entertain you thoroughly, sugar.” 

You blink, “Really?” you ask instantly feeling foolish at the question. It’s a service he provides, that you will be paying for, of course he means it. Nonetheless, he seems amused by the question. He grins proudly, crowding your personal space. He tilts his head. Your fingers twitch around the glass and your eyes drop to his lips. 

Man, he’s dreamy. You’re starting to understand the appeal of these establishments. 

“Really,” he parrots back at you. “Follow me, darlin’.” 

With shaky legs, you do. 

The private room is a sanctuary tucked away from prying eyes. 

Your eyes follow the sumptuous drapes of deep velvet cascading from floor to ceiling. In the center of the room stands a circular stage much smaller compared to the one outside, its surface gleaming. Positioned in the middle of it, a solitary chair, adorned in lavish leather, and next to it a small table with a small remote on top. Whiskey closes the door as you enter and walks with confident steps. You stand awkwardly until he gestures towards the sole seat with his head. 

“Take a seat, sweetheart. Get comfortable.” 

“O–Okay.” 

You’re not aware of how close he is until you take a seat, he immediately follows, dipping low. He curls two thick fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, his gaze searching. 

“Tell me if anythin’ starts becomin’ too much, understood?” 

“Understood,” you squeak, cheeks growing warm. Without any hesitation, he starts the music. Acquainted by the Weeknd starts playing softly through the speakers. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The way he walks now is different from the way he walked when guiding you here. He saunters over to you, his shoulders rounding as he starts feeling the music moving through him. 

He stands in front of you, movements fluid and confident. You’re mesmerized by him.  He stalks even closer to you, and you feel the electric heat radiating off of his body. He slides his hands down your arms and you can't help but let out a little gasp. 

Whiskey continues to study your expression, He moves with grace and purpose, his body sliding and swaying sensually to the music. His hips rock back and forth in time, seemingly choreographed flawlessly. His hands glide down his body, tracing the contours of his definition before slipping up his torso. His movements are punctuated by smoldering gazes and slow, deliberate breaths. He rolls his shoulders, his leather jacket sliding to his elbows and falling to the floor a beat later. Your mouth waters. 

Suddenly, he turns and bends his knees, straddling your thighs. Your gaze drops, turning into saucers as you take in the sight of his tiny little ass. You exhale a sharp breath from your nose, nostrils flaring. He draws circles with his hips, nearly brushing against you but not quite, he gently holds your wrists, placing them in his inner thighs. His touch is feather-like and with two fingers, allowing you the chance to break free if needed. Your skin feels taut over your muscles, sweat building at your tailbone—he’s so close. You don’t even remember the last time you were this close to a man. It’s dizzying. 

Whiskey slowly extends his legs and slides your hands up, your fingers skim the apex of his thighs until he’s standing. 

Arousal builds between your legs, your lips a tight, thin line. 

Your hands are on his crotch. 

Oh god, you think you might actually faint. Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious? 

Fuck he feels warm under your palms—

Scratch that, he feels big. 

He drops down as he rolls his hips, his body slides under your hands like a snake and your fingers move up his chest with the movement, feeling the mesh fabric and the firm chest underneath. Very inappropriately, your nails bite into his skin. If your eyes weren’t glued to this gorgeous man’s back, you would’ve missed the moment his hips stuttered, the smallest grunt echoing from the back of his throat. 

“Sorry,” you squeak, fingers twitching.  

“Don’t worry about it darlin’, just enjoy the show.” 

He stands back up again, guiding your hands down to his hips as he squats low. Before you know it, your hands are resting on his pelvis once more, feeling the underlying heaviness. He grinds forward, hefty bulge filling your palms. 

The music fades to the background. His steps in slow motion, he turns and straddles you normally, knees dipping as he raises his arms and grinds his hips towards you. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so close. With his every move, you can smell the leather coming off of him, it takes you everything not to close your eyes and just inhale his scent. He steers your hands towards his ass, placing them against the firm mounds. 

You know that this is a strip show. You know that you’ll be paying him afterward—and tipping him generously. 

But, fuck, the way he’s looking at you shouldn’t be allowed. Something dark swirling in them, something ravenous. His smile is knowing, teasing, like he can read your mind and it’s unnerving. How does anyone leave this strip club not being a mess for this man? 

His fingers delicately trace the column of your neck, moving over to your shoulder and coming back. He’s observing you, eyes fixed on you as he searches for any kind of discomfort. Then he gradually wraps his hand around your neck. There’s no pressure and it feels slightly ticklish. 

He moves closer in tune with the music, his lips brush against your neck, your nipples tightening at the touch. He takes your hands and guides them up his chest and broad shoulders. His lips are barely touching yours and you can feel his softly blowing breath. He thrusts his hips, clothed cock nearly touching your chest, suddenly you’re holding your breath wishing nothing more than his touch. His ass flexes under your hand, firm and warm. 

Till this point, you were trying really hard to ignore how wet you’ve gotten. Subtly, you’re moving your hips, trying to add pressure to your throbbing clit. The wet fabric of your underwear grazes against the bundle of nerves, dipping between your wet folds. Your chest heaves and you swallow down a whimper. It’s been so fucking long since you’ve felt anything like this. Tension curls around your thighs and moves up to your stomach, arousal heavy between your legs. He must be used to this right? You can’t be the only one to get this worked up. 

Even if Whiskey does notice your weak attempts at relief, he doesn’t say anything. 

All your senses narrow on him as he kneels in front of you, the music dropping with him. With a wink, he takes your hands and guides them down his chest while leaning back to sit on his heels. Your hands slide down his torso, once again just shy in touching his length. With a body roll, he comes back up and grips the armrests of your chair, popping up into a bridge position. Your thighs are spread and he drops his head low, you swear you feel his breath on you before he slithers up again, lips nearly brushing the valley of your breasts. His face is an inch away from yours, only charm. He tilts his head, coming in closer as if he’s about to kiss you, then moves away again. 

You’re mortified when you find yourself instinctively chasing after his lips. 

He hums, the sound barely audible over the music, his smile never fades, “Good girl,” he mutters as his hands slide down to gently grip the back of your thighs. 

You’ve never been more aware of not touching someone in your life.

Whiskey pushes himself closer and lifts your legs. Despite the clothes that separate the two of you, you feel the sinewy fabric of muscle hidden underneath as your legs frame his narrow hips. He presses closer, positioning his length against you. You feel it. His cock throbbing and aching under those tight, tight pants. Your throat moves, the muscles in your jaw clenched. He grazes one hand up and up and up until the width of it rests over your hip. 

He continues his grinding, his jeans rubbing tantalizingly against your inner thighs. You feel his hardness through the thin fabric separating you; all you can think is how good it feels to have him there. His hands rub lazily across your hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Whiskey's hands snake up your sides, his fingers weaving through the flesh of your waist. His pelvis moves rhythmically against yours, each thrust accompanied by a low moan that you’re desperately trying to bite down. 

“You seem tense darlin’,” his breath is hot and heavy in your ear as he gently nibbles the sensitive lobe, tantalizing you further. “Could see it in your eyes as soon as I spotted you alone at the bar. Let go, sweetheart. It’ll be our little secret,” His hips sway in and out, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel your breath catch and become labored, is—is he actually suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? 

God, you just don’t have it in you to care anymore. You’re too worked up, every touch feels doubled with the way he moves, smiles, and looks at you.

You can’t help but relax into his motions. He moves slower, teasing you as he coaxes your inevitable fall. He builds you up, and normally, you would bask in the relief that he would tear you apart soon enough—but the thing is. . . you two aren’t actually having sex. There’s a very high chance the build-up would last forever, that is, until the time was up. You’re being edged in the best way possible but you fear you might have a hearty breakdown if you can’t, as how he put it; “let go”. 

He must’ve sensed your worries because for the first time, his smile falters, brows furrowing with concentration. His eyes flit over yours briefly before cupping your chin and raising your head. You expect him to say something, anything—maybe call you his good girl again—but nothing escapes those lush lips. Your eyes drop to the divot of his bottom lip and he leans closer, cock fully moving over your puffy clit. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek. Your stomach bottoms out, there’s a faint buzzing in your ears as the pressure in you grows and grows until you feel it in the back of your eyes. 

Fuck—Are you about to come? 

Nonononononono—

Your body spasms in pleasure, an orgasm building from deep within you as the music and his body surround you. He smells of pine and leather and the scent assaults your lungs. Your insides begin to clench and your muscles carry on a delirious dance of its own as warmth starts to spread in waves throughout your body. Your toes curl and every nerve ending in your body is brought alive. You squeeze your eyes shut,  your breath quickens. You swallow down all the noises that threaten to spill out. All you can think of is how embarrassing this is, your cheeks are left burning, your orgasm washing over you in large waves against your better judgment. 

Whiskey barely slows, still rolling his hips with the guide of the slowing song. He does pull back eventually and you’re grateful for it. The inside of your mouth is dry, your eyes watered, the inside of your panties soaked. 

“S-Shit,” you whisper. “I’m . . . I’m—” 

He lets out a content sigh, if anything, he seems delighted by the whole ordeal. 

“Like I said darlin’,” he rasps, breath ghosting your lips. “This will be our little secret.” 

The music ends and you know your time is up. 

Hanging out at a strip club isn’t actually as mortifying as you thought it would be. 

After your first encounter with Whiskey, you thought you would never step into the glitter and glam of the club ever again. However, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself at the door once more. The bartender, who later introduced himself as Tequila, greeted you enthusiastically, and from that point on, you became a regular.

Despite being a regular, names were still off-limits, and you didn't mind. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, and it made it all the more special for the time when Whiskey might eventually reveal his real name, if that day ever came. You're still not sure where you stand exactly on the spectrum between being a customer and a friend.

You could never afford another private dance though, at least not if you wanted to have enough money for food this month. Nevertheless, you were content with just watching the performances, and seeing Whiskey entertain endless bachelorette and bachelor parties was always a delight.

And hey, surprisingly, Tequila made some killer iced coffees, which you greatly appreciated since you weren't the biggest drinker and a bit of a lightweight. The last thing you wanted was to get drunk with Whiskey around, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough. However, he was a man of his word. He never mentioned the incident that took place during his performance. In fact, he behaved as if it never happened. For a minute there, you even thought that maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

However, there were moments when he would simply give you a certain look, and in that instant, you knew for certain that he did remember.

“Here you go gorgeous,” Tequila says, pulling you from your thought as he places an iced coffee in front of you. 

Your eyes widen as you see whipped cream with a lavish cherry on top. 'Is there a special occasion I'm not aware of?'

He shrugs, “I was bored, it’s a slow night.” 

Thanking him, you turn in your seat. It was a slow night, with only a handful of people present. There was a couple seeking a good time and a couple of corporate-looking ladies. Whiskey was entertaining one of them, employing his Southern charm as he winked at the woman and tipped his hat. Over the passing days, you had come to recognize his dance choreography. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, which made you happy in return.

Sometimes you do wish you had met the man outside of these walls though. You can’t fight the longing you feel whenever you see him. Other than being ridiculously attractive —and knowing how to make a woman come without touching them— he was kind to you that day. He saw how miserable you were and tried to cheer you up. Sure, you were a customer, but still, he didn’t have to go the extra mile. 

You often thought about meeting him at a supermarket or something instead. Would he be as kind? Would he be as attentive? Maybe he wouldn’t even give you a second glance as he buys a box of cereal—you frown, when you think about it like that, maybe meeting him in a strip club wasn’t that bad after all.  

Whiskey's dance comes to an end and you have to fight every fiber of your being not to eat him with your eyes like a hungry, horny, wolf. You try to look disinterested, eyes moving to one of the other dancers. It’s too late though, his gaze catches your own. He smiles as he struts towards you. 

“How are you sweetheart?” he asks, pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Is Tequila here treatin’ you well?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” You grin, gesturing to the whipped cream and cherry on top, as if it's obvious. His eyes drop to the fruit, glistening and wet. Without waiting for you to say anything, he picks up the fruit by the stem and sticks his tongue out. He catches the cherry with his lips, slowly drawing it into his mouth, and you watch, transfixed, as he chews. His jaw works over the cherry, then, a moment later, he shows you his tongue once more. 

On the tip of it, lays a neatly knotted stem. 

“Holy hell,” you whisper. “I should be mad because I was looking forward to that cherry but I’m too impressed.” 

With two fingers Whiskey calls for Tequila, “Get the pretty lady another cherry,” he says. 

“Show off,” the other man mutters but complies anyway. A quick moment later, there’s another cherry on a bed of white. 

You eye him warily, “You’re not gonna eat this one too, are you?” 

He laughs, “No darlin’. Don’t worry, enjoy your overly sweetened fruit.” 

Still not trusting him, holding it by the stem, you stick the cherry between your lips and quickly chew. He draws his brows together, “No show?” 

“If I was that talented with my tongue I wouldn’t be single.” 

“There’s more to relationships than a good tongue,” he answers. “I would know.” 

He’s single? 

You don’t know why the revelation shocks you, but it does. You didn’t want to assume anything based on his career choice and by personality alone, you didn’t really think he would be in the same boat as you. 

“You can act a little less surprised you know,” he teases, leaning against the bar with a curled lip. 

“S-Sorry, I just never thought you would be single you’re just so. . .” cutting yourself off, you press your lips together. He leans closer, teasing smile now shifting into a full toothy grin. 

“So. . . what?” he asks. His finger dips into the whipped cream, and he brings it to his lips, his deep gaze never leaving yours as he sucks it off slowly. “Dazzling, charming, talented?” 

Your throat goes dry and you have to swallow, “Well yes, all of those and. . . handsome.” 

“Compliments don’t get you a free dance, sweetheart,” he winks. “Just sayin’.” 

Your lips quiver, a hesitant smile curving your lips. Your cheeks warm under his gaze. 

Talking to him comes easy to you. You also enjoy his confidence, he knows he’s good looking and he doesn’t shame you for stating it, or make you feel less of a person for admitting. It’s freeing. Maybe that’s why you’re always visiting the club. He grants you a place to just be yourself, even if he does so intentionally or not, you appreciate it. 

“You, giving out a free dance?” you exaggerate every word, you mirror his movement and stick two fingers in the whipped cream. You bring them to your lips, savoring the sweetness. It’s subtle, but you catch the way his breath hitches. Your smile grows. “I never would expect such a thing.” 

“Good,” his voice drops dangerously low, almost sounding like a growl. Inching closer, his breath fans the side of your neck and you feel the rough scrape of his mustache against the shell of your ear. A whimper rattles your throat. “I would hate to be misunderstood.” 

He pulls back with a wink, he flashes you his canines, and drags his tongue over them. “See you around, sunshine,” he says, voice returning to normal. The words die in your throat as he disappears towards the back, presumably to get ready for his next show. 

You’re left staring, mouth agape. Flustered, you stir your iced coffee to feel the soothing sound of ice clanking around. 

You frown when you realize all the ice had melted.

Thank you for reading everyone! This one definitely tuckered me out but I think it ended up not being that bad?

Normally this was always going to be a two-parter but then the first part ended up being way longer than I intended (almost 8k) so I decided to split it into two chapters since didn't want it to be too long. Therefore, this little series will be three parts in total. I've written most of chapter two since it was meant to be a part of chapter one so it'll be out relatively quick!

That's it for now, sending everyone love and many hugs 💜

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 8 - Aaron Hotchner

Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

Prompt: Panic Attack

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of a serial killer/unsub

Summary: When a case that hits too close to home has too many missing pieces, and seemingly no end, you can't help but fall prey to a growing sense of panic.

You weren't sure when this spiral had started. Somewhere between the search of the second crime scene coming up with practically nothing, and one of the few witnesses refusing to give an official statement, surely.

There was only one thing you knew for certain, and that was that the walls of the precinct the team had set up in were threatening to suffocate you.

You paced back and forth across the room, fighting to keep your breathing in check. With every passing second, your panic was rising, your thoughts spiraling wildly, extrapolating more and more terrible possibilities.

Ried, Morgan and Prentiss were still at the scene, and Rossi and JJ were still on their way back from meeting with the witness. There was absolutely nothing standing between you and a total freak out. Nothing to distract you. Nothing to get your mind off of it.

You stopped your pacing, winding a hand through your hair, practically fighting with your lungs to take in a deep breath.

"(y/n)?" Hotch's voice cut through the stillness of the room.

You turned, finding the man standing in the doorway, looking at you with concern.

"I- i- Hotch-" You stammered, taking half a step towards him.

"Easy, honey, take it easy-" He crossed the room, taking your arm gently, "What's going on?"

"I can't breathe- Hotch- I can't-"

Almost instantly, he was guiding you to sit in an office chair and keeling before you. Hotch took one of your hands, placing it on his chest, over his heart, "Come on, sweetheart, just try to copy me, alright?"

You nodded, desperately trying to force air into your lungs. Squeezing your eyes shut you focused on the deliberate movement of Hotch's chest.

Slowly but surely, your breathing began to even out, and you peeled your eyes open to find Hotch's concerned face peering at you.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, turning over the words in your mind for a moment before finally speaking, "We can't have another victim, Aaron... but we have nothing to go on and I just-"

"Hey," He cut you off as he stood, resting a hand on your shoulder, "We're going to figure this out."

[infin1ty-garden]

So I just finished the quarry and fell in love max brinly 😅 do you think you can do a max brinly x reader? Weather they were already in a relationship or met at camp, but max makes it to camp and is there the whole summer. Something happens to where the reader get attacked/bit that night and he does whatever he can to save her? Preferably a happy ending together, but your discretion! Thank you for whatever you can do!!

I WOULD DIE FOR HER

༊*·˚ summary: [ in request ] ༊*·˚ pairing: max brinly x fem! reader ༊*·˚ warnings: werewolf attack? injury, guns, blood & curse words ༊*·˚ word count: 1180 ༊*·˚ author note: it's been a while since i played the quarry. canon divergent

masterlist.

"A werewolf? Great! What's next? Dracula?" It was the last day of summer camp. They were suppose to be on the road already but their car didn't start. Instead of eating junk food and belting songs, they were stuck here. At best until tomorrow morning.

And now, apparently a wolf or werewolf attacked Nick and Abby. Max didn't doubt Abby or Nick's words but a werewolf is something harder to believe in. An escaped science experiment would have been more believable.

No matter how believable it is or not. One thing was for certain, something was out there to get them. Dylan and Ryan try to get help via the radio shack as the others stay back in the lodge, including Max and you. But while there you hear something on the roof.

Sounding way too heavy to be a bird. Then Abby and Nick's statement proves to be right as a werewolf crashes through the roof. It starts chasing each of you, trying to see which one will catch it first. Right as you think you managed to find a good place to hide.

It charges at your hiding place. It's claws sinking into your shoulder. Max rips the gun out of Kaitlyn's arms and aims it for the creature. Shoot it in the arm then stomach. It turns its attention away from you and to Max as shots it in the head. It backs off running into the woods.

"How did you know how to do that?" Max hands the gun back to Kaitlyn and rushes over to you. "It's a gun. It's not that difficult," he assesses the wound. It's deep and without some treatment you could bleed out. He refuses to show any panic. Knowing it'll only make the situation worse.

Max knows there's some medical stuff in the lodge 'just in case something happens'. This is something. He tells Kaitlyn to keep you awake as he goes to find the supplies. He's not a medical student or anything but he will try his best.

"Don't let her die," is all Max could think about and when he gets back he makes quick work of the wound with the help of Kaitlyn. He has you bite on a cloth as they sow up the wound and wrap a lot of gauze around it. It's not perfect but it's the best they could do.

By the time they are done. Ryan and Dylan are back. They bombard them with questions on what happened. You look pale and Max, the worried boyfriend that he is, keeps sending you concerned looks. The first time you try to take a step, you almost faceplant.

But you need to leave the lodge as there is now a hole in the roof. The group decided to go to the pool house and hunker down there. Max helps you walk all the way there. Once you arrive, Nick starts acting really weird. Max and you separate from the group.

He lets you rest but does everything so you don't close your eyes. He goes back to check on the others. The next thing you hear is a lot of yelling and the sound of a gunshot. Max comes rushing back. He's in a state of shock. That much is obvious.

Quickly picks you up bridal style and runs out of the pool house. On your way out you notice the room was drenched in blood. You're left in the dark as to what happened. What you do notice is Laura, one of Max's friends and a counsellor that went missing, showed up.

She explains where she'd been this whole time. The group makes the ultimate decision to split up again. Laura and Ryan go to the Heckett's house, Emma and Abby to the basement of the lodge and Dylan, Kaitlyn, Max and you try to find a spare part to fix the car.

Even Laura suggested that Max go with her but he declined. Refusing to leave your side. Cute, considering you'll turn into one of those creatures before the night is over. At the junkyard, Dylan and Kaitlyn are working on the crane.

Dylan starts rapidly honking the horn. "There's something coming!" Max and you find a hiding place hoping that the creature doesn't find you. That hope is squashed as it's now only a few feet away from you. You feel anger bubbling up in you.

You've been through shit this whole night. Two of your friends could be dead and Max's missing ex girlfriend is now back. Is he going to dump you and get back together with her? Were you just a summer fling to him? You feel as if your insides are being ripped out.

Were you dying? Max jumps from the hiding place and shoots the creature. He aims to take another shot but the gun's empty. It runs to your hiding place. You feel as if something is trying to burst out of your chest. Excruciating pain as your bones break than a burst of blood.

You can't control your movements anymore. Attack the werewolf charging at you, killing it. Max can't believe what he's seeing. He knew it was a matter of time before you turned but this is terrifying. If he is to die by your hand so be it but to his surprise you run away.

Leaving the junkyard to go to God knows where. He goes to find Kaitlyn and Dylan, tells them what had happened. All three of them go back to the lodge with the part in hand to meet up with the other counsellors. Laura and Ryan return with Travis Hackett.

"It's over. We killed Silas," the first thought in Max's head is 'Who?' and the second how the hell is he going to find you. Laura offers to go with him and this time he obliges. If there's a possibility they find your dead body, he needs someone he trust there when he breaks down.

Instead of finding a dead body, they find you walking. Probably trying to find a way back to the lodge. Max is overwhelmed with relife and envelopes you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay. Thank God! You're okay." He peppers your face with kisses.

"Never do that again," he rests his head on your shoulder. "What do you mean? I turn into a werewolf on a regular basis," he laughs but soon tears start falling from his eyes. Laura interrupts the moment.

"We should get back. I don't wanna spend another second in this forest," she starts walking. "Laura's back. So, when's your date planned?" Max's back straightens and his eyes look as if they'll fall out of his sockets. "What?"

"With Laura. I would assume you guys will pick up where you left off." He aggressively shakes his head. "No! I mean we didn't break up but the night before she left we realised we're just not working. To me you're like a breath of fresh air. Okay that's a cheesy metaphor but I love you and nothing will change that."

Thanks for reading!

[paganwitchisis]

A Chance Encounter

Rated - Explicit. RATED 18 PLUS

Relationship - Tav (Female AFAB)/Astarion

Trigger Warnings/ Warnings of sexual content and Violence- Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Abuse, Physical, Mental and Emotional/Verbal Abuse. Asked to cancel themself mentioned, graphic depictions of violence, Smut, P in V Smut, Dead Dove (For the Violence/abuse depictions), Panic Attacks, Love

Word Count : 13.6k (It is a longer one!)

Check it out on AO3 -A Chance Encounter AO3

Summary: What if 1 year after beating the Netherbrain, established spawn Astarion and (AFAB) Female Tav roam the Sword Coast and run into a complication? Instead of being heroes, they accidentally find Tav’s abusive parents? This becomes a hard situation for Tav, and Astarion has to help her through it. Bonus! Add to this a greedy god getting involved and a deal being attempted against our favorite couple? Astarion has his hands full, but there will be a happy ending! Heed the tags for trigger warnings.

Note: I have a master list pined to my page and other Baldur's gate work. This was made as a trauma dump for coping so it is based on real life stuff. it is my worst work yet in my opinion but I wanted to share it. I have 23 stories in progress and in different degrees of progress. This is intended as a one shot but can be changed if there is support for more.

Story: The past year after defeating the Netherbrain has been almost a dream. After finding the Sunwalker’s Ring almost three months ago, Astarion and Tav have been enjoying everything that life has had to offer in the sun. The couple has done everything together since setting off together from Baldur’s Gate. They have taken on missions together and spent long nights tangled together under the stars. Astarion has been enjoying what freedom has truly been like, but occasionally he would wake to his lover having nightmares and terrors in the night. It was in these moments he wished he had the tadpole again. Tav was always there for him, and although the hold Cazador has had on him was dissipating, it was still there. Astarion wanted to return the favor that Tav had given him. The problem was, Tav was still struggling with something unseen and she still wasn’t comfortable discussing what was wrong. Of course, Astarion was sure if he asked she would say something, but Astarion didn’t want to do that. Astarion wanted to let her talk to him on her terms. In the mean time, he would support her the best he could. He suspected it had something to do with the scars on her body that she refused to discuss, The same scars he worshiped when they made love. It was the only thing that made sense, considering what she said during her nightmares.

“We’re near Evereska. You think we can stop there for a break? I’d love to get a hot bath, Astarion. Just a break, then we can keep going.” Tav asked Astarion who broke from his thoughts to consider his half elven lover’s request.

“I’d love to give us a room at a tavern, darling, but isn't that the pretentious city that only lets…certain people in?” Astarion replied worriedly. The history of Evereska is a well known thing to most elves. They snub their nose at anyone who isn't a pure blooded high elf and follows strict customs.” Astarion might be able to get in but Tav…

“I thought that through! They will let me in.” Tav smiled brightly but Astarion was confused how and why they would do such a thing. “ I never pull the title but they will let me in temporarily for the hero of Baldur’s Gate”

“You think that will work? I mean…they could easily not care.”

“Only one way to find out. We’re not far.” Tav rationalized as she drew close to Astarion and looped her arms around his neck. Astarion wrapped his arms around her waist and replied.

“Alright. If that’s what you want. We’ll try it but only for a night. I don’t want to stay there longer than we need to. However I’d be happy to give you a wonderful bath, my sweet.” Astarion gave her a lewd smile. Tav replied with a smile of her own before kissing him deeply. Astarion wasted no time moving his hands to Tav’s backside and gripping her ass cheeks while his tongue delved inside her mouth. Tav couldn’t help the moan that escaped her.

“Later, my love. Tonight, I’ll make you scream.” Astarion murmured against her lips as he pulled away.

It only took an hour to get to the heavily guarded gate that surrounded the border of Evereska. The city was magnificent even without entering. It was clean, surrounded by forests and elegant. When the couple approached the doors to the border, the guard held up his hand for them to stop.

“State your business” He called out. Tav noted he was in generic heavy armor and wielded a great sword.

“We’re the heroes of Baldur’s gate looking for a place to stay for one night only. We have no intention of interacting with anyone or anything beyond a room, some food and a bath before setting off to continue helping those on the Sword Coast. We respectfully request a special exception due to our services against the armies of the Absolute and Netherbrain. The Mindflayer invasion would have spread beyond Baldur’s Gate had we not intervened.” Astarion pleaded their case and Tav merely looked in awe at her lover. She was reminded how much of a silver tongue he had as he stared down the guard and reminded them that they, too, would have been in danger if they did not do something about the threat.

“What are your names?” The guard asked.

“Tav Elleth and Astarion Ancunin.” Astarion answered and noticed the guard quickly looked at Tav and looked surprised. Astarion wondered why this guard reacted this way and drew close to his lover.

“One…one moment.” The guard stuttered and left while the other guard eyed the couple wearily.

“How in the world did you two beat an army?” The remaining guard asked out of curiosity.

“It’s complicated….we had to kill a devil, to get a hammer, to free a Githyanki prince, to control a Netherese crown after defeating a dragon and killing a giant brain, and evading or killing their minions…Oh, and killing the chosen three of the gods of death and such.” Tav was listing everything while counting it off on her fingers. “Like I said. Complicated. It took months and started off in a grove not far from Baldur’s Gate.”

The guard looked stunned, and Astarion could do nothing but chuckle. In the meantime the guard had returned and opened the gate.

“You may enter, but you are only permitted to remain for a week. We are aware you said you wished to stay one day but in case anything…comes up, we permitted you both a week. Stay beyond that and you will be considered enemies of the city. The tavern is north in the city. It is called The Hearth. You can’t miss it.” The guard explained. As the couple entered the city, Astarion was highly suspicious as to the reasoning and his gut was telling him to leave and take Tav with him. Something seemed off.

Tav and Astarion made their way inside and Astarion held his lover’s hand. His lover was normally a strong, independent and wonderfully powerful woman, but when they walked up the path and made their way to the tavern, they ran into a couple on the path, and this was the moment that things began to change.

Astarion didn’t think much of them at first. The man was larger than a usual elf and had a strong demeanor. He seemed like someone you didn’t want to cross, maybe a fighter, potentially? He had large arms and legs, fairly muscular and was capable looking. The man had a resting face that looked angry. The woman looked upset. She looked thin but agitated. She seemed like a normal elf in other regards, but what struck Astarion the most was how the man looked so much like his lover. It couldn’t be though…could it? Astarion never did talk to his lover about her parentage though except to know that her mother passed after her birth and her father remarried. Astarion stopped walking when Tav abruptly stopped after seeing the couple before her. He could hear her heartbeat speed up and hear her essentially go into a panic. Astarion squeezed her hand to remind her he was still there but she didn’t respond. Astarion was very concerned at this point.

“There you are. The guard said you were here but I couldn’t believe it.” The man said. “I heard you wanted to go to the tavern. Is that true?”

Then, in a meek voice Astarion had never heard come from his lover, she replied “Yes.” as she looked at the floor. If she could shrink down, she would. Astarion wanted to growl, wanted to grab her and leave. Something was wrong.

“That won’t do. You will come home.” The man looks finally at Astarion. “ Who the fuck is this?”

“This is Astarion Ancunin. He is my…” Tav looks at Astarion pleadingly. “…Husband.”

Astarion understood without the use of the tadpoles. Whoever these people were, she had to make them believe they were married rather than otherwise. Astarion didn’t mind. Not really. What he did mind was who these people were and why she was acting different all of a sudden.

“Tav, darling, would you mind introducing me?” Astarion asked nicely which seemed to make Tav more anxious.

“Yes, honey. I didn’t expect to find my parents here, so forgive my manners. This is my father, Aias Elleth, and my step-mother Saida Elleth. Mother, father, This is my husband and love. Astarion Ancunin. He is a fellow adventurer who helped me save Baldur’s Gate last year.”  

Astarion noted the man didn’t seem too pleased with the moniker of husband nor did he seem too pleased with his daughter’s accomplishment of being a hero for Baldur’s gate.

“Fine. Come with us. You will stay with us the week at least and then we will discuss further. You will regard our rules.” The man was speaking as he walked along the path away from the tavern. “You may share a room, but that is it. No sex. Bathing and changing clothes you both will be separate. I will not invite temptation in our home. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, dad.” Tav replied right away when Astarion wanted to protest.

“Tav, honey. I thought we were going to the Tavern? We only planned to stay one night. Not that I don’t appreciate the generosity, We just had prior plans.”

“Either you stay with us or you don’t stay in the city.” Aias said as he interrupted their conversation. By now, they finally arrived at their location. A large and beautiful house stood before them with manicured grass and well paved walkways. The house had maybe 2 or 3 floors and was white with a wonderful trim. It was obvious they came from money.

“Do you both have children?” Aias asked out of nowhere, which was surprising, yet at the same time it wasn’t. Elves were notorious for having a difficult time procreating.

“Er…no. We haven't been….blessed with children yet.” Astarion replied as they entered the dwelling. Aias gave a cold stare to Tav and commented.  

“I trust you can find your room. 3rd floor, your leftover belongings were moved there already. You have half an hour before dinner to get ready.” Aias instructed before they disappeared inside the house. Tav grabbed Astarion’s hand and bee-lined for a room on the third floor and closed the door. It was a basic room with a queen sized bed. Astarion wondered how Tav knew this was her room out of all of them. Basic furniture but nothing that would indicate anyone ever lived there before let alone a guest room or Tav’s old room. She closed the door and Astarion noticed the lock was broken off the back of the door, as if by force.

“We don’t have much time. I need to talk to you.” Tav said in a panic.

“What’s wrong, love?” Astarion asked

“I don’t know where to start. I wish I could just show you. Gods, I miss that damn tadpole.” Astarion drew her into his arms and hugged her close. This did little to alleviate the panic or tension within the woman but she appreciated it none the less.  

“Should we be getting dressed in the mean time? Or getting ready for battle?”

“Let’s get ready for dinner. I don’t know what they want, or if they changed. But I can tell you as we get situated.”

“I thought we couldn’t get changed according to his rules?” Astarion joked.

“I’m not listening to those rules. I love you, Astarion. I need your touch. I want to see you and be with you as much as you want me…even if….”Tav began to shake slightly at some thought that Astarion could not see. Astarion held her tighter and leaned down. Astarion kissed her lightly and was not expecting Tav to push back on his lips and request to deepen the kiss. Astarion complied and deepened it, but only briefly, as they needed to talk and get dressed before their time was up.

Tav began changing soon after pulling away from her lover’s lips, Astarion following suit.

“I had to call you my husband for my father to let you be in the room with me. I hope that is okay.” Tav went looking for something in the bag. “Ah! There it is! Here, put this on your left ring finger…assuming you’re okay with the ruse.”

Astarion noticed it was the lover’s ring they found in the Shadow-Cursed Lands over a year ago. He didn’t know she still had them. Astarion put the ring on and kissed her again. “I’m okay with it being real as well, darling, but now is not the time for that discussion. Please tell me what’s up with your folks”

“Wait…did you say you would marry me?” Tav went to kiss him tenderly again, albeit chastely.

“Yes, now focus, darling. We can celebrate later.”

“Sorry…it’s just this is hard. Very hard.” Tav curled her hands around herself and backed away from the doors and windows. Astarion, who was holding her before she backed out of his arms, followed her to a corner as she crouched to the floor and waited for her to speak which only took a moment. Thankfully they had plenty of time until dinner would be ready. Tav went from crouching to siting on the floor with her legs drawn up.

“Growing up was pure hell. I was beaten, manipulated and abused in almost every way imaginable except one. I wasn’t touched sexually, thankfully, but the rest was severe. The scars I have on my body? None of them are bandits. I lied. I would tell you the details but we don’t have enough time. Lets just say there was severe physical abuse, I was told I was repaying being born, I wasn’t allowed to eat because they said I was too fat and my brother was treated as the best person in the world while I was treated less than dirt. If my brother was bad, I was beaten. I was the bad one. I was neglected. I had to sew my own skin together. I had to figure out how to find food and stop the bleeding when I was so small I didn’t know what first aid was. This started when I was a toddler. I was dragged about the house and outside by my hair.”

“That’s why hair pulling, spanking, restraints, and things of those nature are a hard boundary for you during sex?” Astarion asked gently.

“Yes.” Tav looked away until Astarion used the tip of his fingers to guide Tav’s chin up to look back at him. Astarion gave a supportive smile before he sat down next to her and ran his arm behind her shoulders and drew her close. Tav continued to talk once she felt safe again. “ Weapons were used too on me. It wasn’t just fists. I broke 26 bones by the time I was a legal adult, triple that sprained. I missed over half of school every year because my parents would try to hide the marks. Every time my step mother felt upset at father she would point out how much of a disappointment I was, why I never had a significant other, why I was ugly or how I had to earn love. I was yelled at for hours every day about how I was the problem in the family, how I should end my life, how worthless I was and more. I believed it all…I mean, I was a kid. I didn’t know any better. I used to cry out ‘I’m sorry , I’ll be good! I love you mommy or daddy’ and when I found they didn’t care as I grew older I would stop screaming when being beaten. My step mother would tell my father I wasn’t screaming enough and to hit me more. Sometimes that meant while I was asleep.” Tav looked at the time and looked concerned “ We don’t have much time, maybe nine minutes left. I’ll tell you the details tonight in bed but please don’t make a scene at dinner. I just want to get through dinner and see what they want. I’m….hopeful for closure and change. I’m hoping that they aren't the same people they used to be.”

“This explains the people pleasing quirk and the praise kink you have, my love, not that I’m judging. If you want me to play nice, I will, but understand that you will be safe with me, so if for any reason you are in danger, I will act. I will not be separated from you either and I don’t care about the circumstances. I will also be completely honest with you. I am livid. Not at you. Never at you darling.” Astarion said as he brought her lips to his own and took her lips thoroughly, his tongue slipping against her own. It didn’t take much for her to moan against his lips but she stifled it. Astarion caught it none the less.

“Tonight my love. You can tell me whatever you wish to tell me, then we have our engagement to celebrate. Maybe we can leave the house tonight so I can properly find a place, maybe out of Evereska, if what your parents have to say isn't worth it, where we can make love under the stars, and I’ll make you scream my name the right way.” Astarion chuckled “Maybe your parents will hear us make love if I don’t kill them first.“ Astarion joked and kissed her once more chastely before pulling back. “We should go to dinner, love, but stick close to me.” Astarion stood up, held his hand out, and helped his fiancé up. He wiped her tears away, tears that she wasn’t aware she was shedding, and helped straighten her clothes and fix her hair.

“There. A bit better.” Astarion kissed her forehead and took her hand into his. Astarion opened her bedroom door and walked down the stairs with her. They left their armor and main weapons upstairs inside their magically enchanted bags. Thankfully Gale had enchanted their bags as a gift during the party six months ago. Only the two of them could access their bags, so they felt safe to put their weapons and armor away in their bags. Additionally, if anyone tried to take their bags, the bags would retaliate with a witch bolt against the person, and the bag would gain weight equal to six times the weight of the person trying to take the bag. Tav was so happy and grateful to Gale for these gifts. Gale also gave them a tent where the inside was as large as a house but the outside did not take up the same amount of space. It was used often during their travels. Even Astarion shook his hand for that one, which surprised Tav, but then again, Astarion had changed a great deal since the fall of the Absolute.  Of course Astarion had a dagger in both of his boots and hidden on his being. He wasn’t going to go against a man who hurt his beloved the way that he had without having a weapon or two at his disposal.

Astarion also had a scroll of Detect Thoughts just in case, tucked away as well, although he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

Astarion held her hand tight and they made their way to the table. The table was as opulent as the rest of the house and they arrived to find Tav’s parents already preparing to sit down.

“Where is your brother?” Astarion whispered before they drew too near, as Astarion noticed he did not live at home.

“He passed a few years ago. The Pox…”

“Oh…sorry.”

Astarion sat down after seating Tav and pushing Tav’s chair in. He drank the wine but didn’t eat, claiming to have eaten a large meal earlier. Instead he watched Tav eat and noticed how she ate small bites, something different than how she would usually eat. It wasn’t like she ate like an animal, but she wouldn’t eat like a mouse either.

“Desha salen A'Sum vesta Al nodel Quessir?” Aias said obviously to Astarion as Tav only knew common and not elven. Astarion could reply in common so his fiancee could know what he was asking, but he wanted to play nice as he was asked to do. Aias was asking if his daughter married a Moon Elf and so he would play that up. In reality he suspected he may be, but he wasn’t sure, thanks to Cazador.

“Avavaen, sal'm Al nodel Quessir”  Astarion basically only replied that yes, he was a moon elf, but Astarion suspected the man spoke to him in elven for another reason. Maybe he did it to test how much of an elf he truly was? Regardless of the true reason, he didn’t want to let this go on for much longer. He didn’t like leaving Tav in the dark. She was already helpless being back in her childhood home.

“Your father asked if I was a Moon Elf, dear.” Astarion muttered for Tav to hear.

“I taught you elvish when you were a kid, Tav.” Aias accused. But Tav shook her head.

“You taught Felaern elvish. My brother. Not me.”  Tav replied with a measured voice in her defence.

This upset Aias, who stood up and placed his hand on his belt while he spoke. Tav lost what little color she had, her heart beat sped up significantly, she began to have a tremor and her breathing came quick. Astarion turned to Tav as Aias spoke.

“Don’t you dare speak back to me, young lady!  We have important information we need to discuss, and I needed to make sure your husband was a true elf…unlike you.”

Astarion ignored the man and placed his hand on Tav’s cheek, drawing her face to look at him.

“Tav. Tav, look at me.” Astarion pleaded until Tav’s eyes finally landed on his and began to recognize him. She was pulled onto his lap by the vampire’s strong arms and Astarion heard a scoff from the step mother of the family.

“She is just manipulating you. She is good at it. The bitch always manipulated people.” Saida said “She probably told you some bullshit story about us, too.”

Astarion just held Tav and tucked her head under his. “Actually, I didn’t know anything about you both until just now. So tell me, why do you insist we stay a week when we prefer to stay a day?” Astarion lied in a bid to gain information.

“To be put simply,” Aias stated now, “We lost our son some time ago, and Tav is our only child remaining,” The elder elf said as he took his seat again. “As you may be aware, considering you are a high elf as well. It is very difficult to have children as an elf. We have to wait for a soul to pass and be reincarnated, and so I was lucky enough to have been blessed with two children at the time, but when a disease took my son from me. Tav became the sole surviving child to the Elleth line. Now I find out she got married and I knew of no such thing? Thankfully she had the wits about her to choose a respectable high elf to marry, instead of another mutt or lesser race, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are certain rituals we would like to see done. It shouldn’t take long, not even the full week. Just a few days and you would be free to journey again.”

Astarion rested his head on top of Tav’s before he spoke next.

“What does this ritual entail, and what’s in it for you?”  Astarion demanded as he held his fiance tighter.

“You don’t really think I would tell you the details of a sacred ritual, do you?” Aias snapped back, looking straight at Astarion. Astarion wanted to react brashly, but instead, pulled out the Scroll of Detect Thoughts out of his boot and uttered the words against Tav’s shirt in barely a whisper. The table and table cloth hid the scroll and the effects, thankfully, and no one heard what he said except Tav this time around.

What Astarion found was abhorrent, and Astarion had to stop himself reacting right away. He had to plan and escape with his love. He needed to not raise suspicion and get out as soon as possible.

Apparently Tav’s parents ran Evereska, which was a surprise there, so they would have to flee the city on foot and gain distance as fast as possible without arousing suspicion for as long as possible.

Secondly, although Tav was right to fear them, they were, by all accounts, stupid. They could not figure out how much information he gleamed on detect thoughts, now coupled with what plane shattering revelations he just found out? They were playing with fire.

When Astarion had used detect thoughts shortly after asking what the ritual was and what he got out of it, Aias said in his head

“ Corellon promised us another heir, you prissy half elf lover, If you would just shut up and come with us tomorrow night.” Astarion knew who Corellon was. Corellon was an androgynous deity who is considered the leader of the elven pantheon, but why help them? Corellon was a chaotic good deity and not a malicious one, yet they wouldn’t change the balance of life and death for nothing. Aias continued his train of thought. “All you two idiots have to do is go to the temple and lay with each other. Corellon said they would inhabit the damn high elf’s body, and impregnate our good for nothing daughter so they can have a mortal body or avatar to walk Fae’run. It was a good fucking deal and we are not letting it go.”

Astarion ended the link lest he be found out and said out to the table “It’s a bit late and we walked quite a lot to get to the city. We’re gonna turn in. Can we talk about the ritual in the morning?”

The man waved them off and Astarion took a confused Tav and retreated back to their room. Once there Astarion donned his armor and encouraged her to do so as well.

“Whats going on? We didn’t walk much today so I am assuming you found out something and needed to get us away?”

“Get ready for battle my love. We need to sneak and get out of here as soon as possible. Your father means for us to do a most dreadful ritual. He wants us to fuck each other at a temple so a deity can be born. The fucker would inhabit my body for the deed. The best part is what they get out of it. A child. They want an heir.” Astarion had finished strapping his armor and his favorite blades he acquired from Orin’s defeat - Bloodthirst and Crimson Mischief. When Astarion looked over, Tav had her Adamantine armor on and Soulbreaker attached. Astarion grabbed two regular daggers and although he knew she wasn’t proficient in them, he placed one in Tav’s boot as she stood and looked down at what he was doing. The other he placed in her belt.

“You can never be too careful. If someone breaks your defenses and gets too close for your greatsword, I’d rather you be protected my love. We need to give it some time before we leave. Maybe let them go to bed first but be ready.”

“This may be a good time to tell you everything….the details I have been too scared to tell anyone.” Tav said as she sat on the bed, her great sword in hand just in case. Astarion sat down next to her and held her against his lithe body.

“You don’t have to, but if you wish, darling, I’m here.”

Tav hugged him back and buried her head into the chest piece of his armor.

“I want to tell you. If you’re going to be my husband one day, I want you to know why I have all these scars…or the nightmares.” Tav was so meek in her reply that Astarion leaned down and kissed her lovingly as a reminder that he still had her back. He still loved her no matter what and would support her.        

“I’m here for you, my dear.” Astarion reminded Tav. Tav kissed him again and tried to make it deeper but Astarion wouldn’t let that happen.

“Not yet darling. When we get out of this horrid place we can celebrate any and every delicious way you can think of, but right now we need to be on high alert.” Astarion replied, his hand drifting up and down Tav’s spine. Tav sighed and then began to recount the horrors of her past.

“My earliest memory was being burned. I was maybe four years old and I forget what I did to anger my step mother but I had an iron placed against my hand. The skin bubbled and I was then forced to push my brother around in his stroller as punishment for two hours with the burned hand, and the bubble filled with liquid. I was terrified and in so much pain. Then maybe six months later, I remember being bound but my wrists were too small for the binding to properly take hold. My father sucked at binding my hands and when my arms came loose I was beaten for that. My father used closed fists, the belt buckle, the belt, brass coasters he would lob at me, swords, knives, fire, glass, electric spells to ‘test’ how strong they were, a baton which is like an extremely heavy bat, books, and basically anything he could get his hands on otherwise. He, when I was seven, knew I was afraid of heights and dangled me by the neck outside my window a few floors up. I could hardly breathe by how scared I was. I didn’t do anything wrong either. I just know if I heard his boots on the stairs, I was being hurt. I guess that is another perk of why I am with a man who is light on his feet.” Tav half joked but was obviously dejected.

“You will always be safe with me, my love.” Astarion said as Tav continued to recall her childhood.

“I had to figure out how to stop the bleeding when I didn’t know a lick about fist aid. I had to sew my own flesh together on my own thigh once but I was so young. Maybe eight when a good chunk of my wounds happened that I struggled greatly to put myself back together. That’s why I have so many scars.  Then, when I was eleven, my step mother cheated on my father. She fled to Neverwinter to meet and sleep with another man. I was taken with. When my parents got back together, I was severely beaten. My body was contorted in a weird and wrong way by my father and punched, beaten and bruised…broken. My father had to travel to Neverwinter to get my stepmother. I was beaten the whole way and made to give him directions at the same time because after we came home, she fled back to the other man. I was rarely allowed sleep or food. They were eventually okay and such, but I was the black sheep. I was constantly blamed for the affair and beaten randomly for it. I would, as a child, fill my clothes with thick books to get hurt less when I was beaten but they would just take them out or yank my pants down. If I hid? My father would destroy my room looking for me. He would beat me for the messy room then and task me with cleaning it in an impossible time limit. If I failed, which I would, I would be beaten again. I remember I couldn’t see out my right eye once. It was bloody from a brass coaster being thrown at full force at me because I asked my father to play with me. It took a while for my vision to come back. “ Tav was shaking and breathing short stints. She was rocking when Astarion replied.

“Do you want to take a break? You aren't okay, my love.” Astarion was concerned Tav would have an anxiety attack and did what he could to ground her and give her support.

“No. I need to get this out.” Tav took another breath to steady herself. “No matter what I endured physically, I still have more that I sealed away. I buried the memories as far away as possible and never dealt with them. I started getting nightmares at thirteen and terrors. I began having flashbacks. It was like I was a kid again, everything was so real….all over again. I still have them, certain triggers like smells or words. The boundaries we have during sex, for example, trigger the flashbacks. I think I have most of them mapped out but I still get triggered by things I don’t realize are problematic for me. My step mother did more damage than my father though. She did mental abuse and verbal abuse. She would make me stand in front of my friends for hours as she berated me about how bad of a person I was and how much trash I was to them. I was nothing. I was worthless. I should cancel myself. I am paying back being born and that is why I get nothing in life. I am a bitch and don’t deserve love so I have to earn it. I am not screaming loud enough. I am not worth two cents. I will die alone. I-”

“Stop!” Astarion interrupted. “At this point you’re doing their work for them! You’re abusing yourself. I got the point.” Astarion chastised Tav and held his fiance tightly in his arms. “You’re none of those things! You’re beautiful and worthy of love. You’re amazing, and I am so fucking happy you’re alive and with me. I love you more than life it’s self. Please know that I thrive because of you!” Astarion muttered “Fuck it.” and passionately took Tav’s lips into his own. His hands explored her gorgeous and curvaceous body as he pinned her to the bed. Tav couldn’t help the low moan that escaped her. That is until she heard the familiar sounds of her father’s footsteps on the stairs. Tav began to panic and curled within herself and away from her fiance. Astarion was none too pleased to see her fighting with her demons and took up a stance in front of her in case her father came through that door. The noises got louder until it got near the door, changed direction, and left the area. It went down the hall to another room. The damage was done though, Tav was stuck in her head and having a panic attack. Her demons were out and against her in full force and Astarion briefly wondered if this was how Tav knew what to do with him when he struggled.

Astarion sat with her and rocked with her, saying soothing words as he held her and kissed her forehead. Astarion eventually got her back from her head and held her tight. He got her to calm after what felt like a tenday although it was more like half an hour. Astarion knew they didn’t have time for this but he couldn’t let her stew in her head. This was a trigger for her flashbacks and after what she disclosed to him, she had every right to be scared.

“Darling, are you feeling better?” Astarion finally asked after some time. Tav merely nodded while burying her head in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t expect you to be completely yourself, my love, but we need to get moving. We will revisit this once we are safe, and I will make sure you know how loved you are. I want you to know how wrong they are and if it was up to me, Id slaughter them where they stood for daring to lay a finger on you and saying what they did. Instead, for your sake I’ll make everything up to you the best I can. I’ll remind you for all time how valued and precious you are to me. “ Astarion kissed her gently and chastely before taking her hand. “You ready to leave, and never return?”

Tav nodded and Astarion picked Tav up bridal style and snuck outside the room and down the stairs. Astarion was on high alert, as he used his darkvision to his advantage. Astarion got out the front doors and hugged the wall of the house to get out of sight. Astarion placed Tav on the ground, and they crept to the side boundary of the city. Thankfully, the house wasn’t far off from the eastern perimeter of the wall, however the wall, itself, was a problem. The wall was tall and tipped with barbed wire. The walls sides were slick so even if they could traverse it, which they couldn’t, there was no way to get past the wire. They were going to have to get past the guards to get out, a feat Astarion was not looking forward to. About two hours later as they approached the eastern gate, the gate that Tav and himself entered that very day, they noticed the guard had grown.

“I guess our disappearance was finally noticed” Astarion muttered to the still pale Tav. “We’re almost out, Tav. We just have to get through the gate.”    

“Leave that to me.”

“W…What? There are four guards!”  Astarion exclaimed.

“True, but remember the one who asked how we defeated the Absolute? He is still up there. I might be able to get through. I have to try!”

“I don’t understand. How in the world does the guard’s curiosity have to do with our escape in this situation?

“Just stick with me, and be ready to draw your weapons if it doesn’t work. Let’s try this my way, and if not, then we just do things your way, like we were going to all along.”

Astarion couldn’t help but grumble but he placed his hands on the handles of his daggers regardless, and followed his beloved. He watched as Tav, who appeared to be perfectly okay although Astarion knew better, walked up to the guard she spoke to before regarding the details about their defeat of the Netherbrain.  The guards reacted as expected, drew their weapons, and aimed them at the couple.

“You are under arrest. In violation of our rules and customs here in Evereska, you will come with us.”

Tav put her hands up and continued to walk towards them but began to speak.

“Is this how you treat someone who saved you all? Do you have any idea what we went through to protect you all from a mind flayer hive mind and murderous god’s with their chosen who thought it was a good idea to steal a magical artifact from a devil, to bind the mind flayers to their purpose and attempt to take over the world?

“Devil? Gods?” One of the guards asked confusedly.

“Yeah, Mephistopheles. Gortash thought it would be a good idea to steal a crown from him and try to control the Netherbrain with three stones. Each were given to the dead three’s chosen. It led to an imbalance and we had to act. There was Orin, who was with Bhaal, and was a shapechanger. Kethric who was with Myrkul, and was immortal because he was siphoning the power of an Aasimar. You may have heard of this Aasimar, she was dubbed the nightsong but her name was Dame Aylin. She is the daughter of Selune, which is where her powers came from. We had to free her to kill Kethric, but he became an avatar of Myrkul first. That was a pain in the ass fight. Oh, but by all means, if you think you can take us by force.” Tav smiled and stayed where she stood. Astarion finally understood what she was doing and smiled. Gods, he loved this woman. It was a gamble, but she was goading them to fight them. Making them seem larger then life and lauding their accomplishments to get them out of trouble. If it didn’t work, there was always his way, of course.

“You all are dismissed. I’ll take care of the prisoners.” The main guard said, the one whom Tav spoke to initially. With that the other 3, still in wonder, trudged along and left. Once they were far enough away, the guard said to her “Here is your chance.”

“You’re letting us go?”

“I grew up in Baldur’s Gate. I am a proud Baldurian, and so I am happy it never fell. I just ask you knock me out on the way out to make it look like I was overtaken.”

“Thank you” Tav said and gave him a pommel strike to the temple to knock him down. At this, the couple took off on foot and didn’t look back. They ran, far away from the city. Astarion was more cautious than Tav, as Astarion knew that there could be people with crossbows or bows in general that could still get them, so Astarion carefully always had himself covering Tav’s back when they ran off. Eventually, night fell again, and Astarion and Tav had made it to the coast, which was a good distance away from Evereska. They eventually found their way to the Marsh of Chelimber which was connected to Serpents Tail Stream. The stream would go all the way to the west and dump out to the ocean, the Sea of Swords.

“Are we safe?” Tav asked.

“Darling, I won’t feel safe until we’re quite a bit further away.” Astarion looked around his surroundings, and glanced at the map they had to spare in their pack “There should be a dock here somewhere. Maybe we can book passage to Baldur’s Gate and go home for a little.” Astarion said, and noted the happy look that Tav gave him. It had been some time since they returned home from their missions. “Why don’t we settle down for a little. Not permanently, but maybe a month or two won’t hurt. What do ya say?”

Tav showed her approval with a tight and rib breaking hug as she snuggled her head into his armor.

“Thank you!”

Astarion smiled and held her back as they began to approach the docks thanks to the map they had. They were exhausted, filthy and hungry after their jaunt and escape from the situation in Evereska.

“Hello, kind sir. Are you by any chance heading south?” Tav asked kindly while Astarion stayed close behind, ready to strike if things turned sour. Since her disclosure, he had been protective of her. She just hadn’t noticed it yet due to the circumstances around everything.

The captain was obvious to pick out. Aside from the fact he was giving orders to the entirety of the crew, the man seemed to bow to no one. He was an older gentleman but he looked like he saw his fair share of scraps. He had tailored clothes that had an embroidered name of “Rook” of the jacket. The man was handing out assignments, but the couple didn’t speak to him until they saw the crew addressing him as captain. You never knew who could pose as a captain nowadays just for a lick of coin or other pretenses.

“Yep! My crew and I are heading to Baldur’s Gate and then we are turning around to make another supply run to Waterdeep.” The man eyed them wearily and sighed “I take it you’re looking for passage?” The man is rather short. He is about five foot one, grey hair and slightly pudgy. He is older and in his sixties. He has a glass eye and seems to look at both Tav and Astarion quizzically. “Wait a moment….it can’t be!” The man grew excited as he exclaimed.

The man started to circle Tav and looking her up and down. The action was making Astarion uneasy and his instinct was to pull him away. Nothing could be done, however, before the captain acted first.

“I’ll be damned! You’re the Hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you and your husband are looking for passage, I’d be honored to have you sail with us! Hells, you can even have my room!”

“Th..That isn’t nessec-” Tav started to say when she was cut off.

“Bullshit! You saved my little girl’s life directly and my wife would have died twice over if you didn’t act in the battle and save us all! You even saved my wife directly too! I literally have a family because of you! Thank you!” The man praised Tav’s actions, partly holding tears back in his eyes as he grasped Tav’s hand in his own and shook it before Tav tore it back. Tav still struggled with her past and what she disclosed to her fiance just a day ago.

“if…if you insist. We are looking for a way to get to Baldur’s Gate. If you would be so kind to help us, we would appreciate it.”

“Well, what are you standing over there for? Come on board! Welcome aboard the Stingray, the fastest carrier in all of Fae’run! My name is Rook! I’m the captain of this amazing ship.” Rook introduced the couple to the crew who seemed fairly harmless, even if Astarion bristled at a few of them checking Tav out. Finally, Rook gave a tour and showed them their accommodations for the next tenday. Tav was surprised! For a ship, it was surprisingly modern. There was a large bed, a large bath tub and other luxuries including a decent library of books.

“But, where will you stay? We can’t possibly put you out, Rook!” Tav exclaimed.

“Nonsense! You aren’t aware, but my wife and I met last year in Baldur’s Gate. She just had a child from a man who sadly passed away. She would have lost the babe if you didn’t interfere. Even more, you helped save here later against a hag.”

“Oh my! You’re saying your wife is…”

“Yep! Mayrina is the love of my life and she has told me so much about you. Please, let me do this for you both. I will bunk with the boys. It will help us bond more and by the look of you two, you both could use a nice bath and some sleep.”  Rook observed and expressed.

“Well…I can’t argue with that….”

“How soon till we set sail?” Astarion interrupted, eager to gain distance between them and the warriors at Evereska. Tav would have glared at him if she didn’t share the same concern.

“Oh, we can leave now, even. We just finished loading the shipment. Everything is where it needs to be. Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.”

With that, Rook left, although he wasn’t gone long. Tav had just enough time to take Astarion’s lips when Rook returned and startled the two away from each other.

“Ah, you two are rather cute together. Anyways, I just wanted to say we have taken off from the shore and are officially on the way to Baldur’s gate. It may take a day or two longer than a tenday but we are hopeful that we can gain some speed and make up some time. Supper is usually ready in the evening and should be ready in a couple hours.” Rook explained and went to leave. “Enjoy the room, you two…oh! The walls are sound-proof and the create water spells are next to the tub.” and with that, Rook winked, closed the door, and left.

As soon as the door was closed, Astarion took three large steps to the door. Within seconds the door was locked, and Astarion had picked up his lady love and deposited her on the bed. She yelped and giggled at his actions.

“Now, last I checked we have an engagement to celebrate and I have so much I want to show you. I want to show you how wrong those fuckers that you call your parents are.” Astarion crawled on the bed and caged Tav under him. “What do you say to that? Want to scream my name tonight while I worship your body?”

Tav’s chest felt tight and her fiance’s words went straight to her groin. He knew where he was going. He was offering a distraction. Tav nodded. She trusted and loved her fiance. She needed and wanted him. She wanted to be distracted. She wanted to feel good and feel needed.

She wanted to feel loved.

Astarion made quick work of her armor so that she was only left in her underclothes that she had on under her armor, so it didn’t agitate the skin. Tav took in his unique smell of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy with a base of cedar, amber, and musk. He smelled divine even after trying to escape the guards and being on the run. Tav was unsure how he always smelled so good, even when living with him, but she adored his comforting scent.

Astarion dipped down and took her lips, offering her a deep kiss from the start as his dexterous fingers found both her breasts and the hem of her shirt. Tav moaned into their kiss as Astarion used his hand to message her chest before he pulled back and in one fluid motion, removed her shirt. Astarion worked on the cloth that held her breasts when he drank her in again. Astarion felt her hips rut against his own as they sought relief.

“Eager, are we? Don’t worry, my love, I’ll see to your pleasure.” Astarion unhooked the material binding her breasts and easily undid the laces of her trousers. He then pulled them off her along with her undergarments in one swift motion so she laid bare before him. “Hells, you’re a goddess…you’re gorgeous, Tav” Astarion nipped at her shoulder.

“It’s unfair. You’re fully dressed.” Tav mentioned while Astarion chuckled.  

“For now. Patience, darling. Just relax and enjoy.” Astarion replied as he kissed her jaw and neck thoroughly, purposely avoiding the pulse point.”you’re radiant and worthy of everything this world has to offer, Tav. I can also promise you one thing your step mother said is not going to come true”

“Wh…what’s that?” Tav asked as she moaned from Astarion taking her breast into his mouth.

“When the time comes that you pass from this world,” A thought Astarion did not welcome. “Which better be a very very long time from now my dear. You will not be alone. You will never be alone from now on, so what your step mother said about you dying alone? That is bullshit. Because when that time comes, you will be in my arms. You will be safe and at peace my love. You will pass with my lips on yours and most likely quite a few tears. Then, I’ll follow you…”

“No!” Tav replied as Astarion gazed up at her from his ministrations.

“ Please, don’t kill yourself! Please live on for me!” Tav recalled something she was told before. “Elves are reborn, and we hold on to our memories. Even half elves like me! They’re just buried. It may take a long time but I know we can find each other again. I want you to live…” Tav pled her case.

Astarion crawled back up to be on Tav’s level and replied with a scowl. “If that is what you want…then who am I to deny the woman I love?”

Astarion pushed his feelings down. He didn’t want to deal with the thought of Tav’s death. Not yet. They still had many, many decades together. As a half elf, she had half the life span of a high elf, so this meant she had a good four to five hundred years to enjoy life.  Astarion closed his eyes and kissed Tav again before resuming his onslaught to her chest. Astarion took the other breast into his mouth and used his tongue to flick and suck, twirl and lap at the precious nipple adorning the mass he was fondling. Tav moaned loudly and tried to squeeze her thighs closed but couldn’t. Astarion dropped his hips and rolled them which gave her sweet friction in the apex between her legs. Astarion smiled as she moaned and rocked on his hard cock that was still clothed. Astarion moaned and lavished his attention on her breasts, his hands now dropping to her labia. Astarion used his dexterous fingers to spread her lips wide and using the pad of his thumb, he went in a circular motion over her clit. This caused Tav to buck her hips.

“Please, fuck me!” Tav begged as Astarion shook his head.

Astarion positioned himself after kissing her stomach and hip bones between her legs. He kissed her inner thighs and then replied.

“No. You’re gonna come for me on my face, my love.”

“Then you’ll fuck me?” Tav begged while Astarion kissed her thighs and paused over an area with a pulse

“No.”

“B…But…you said...!” Tav stuttered and was confused. Astarion merely laughed, his breath hitting her wet core.

“I wont fuck you because I’ll be making love to you. You’re too precious to me not to. Now, relax, enjoy and come on me.” Astarion said as he got to work dragging his tongue up the slit between the lips of the labia. He hooked his tongue around her clit and twirled it around the clitoris, pleasuring her nerves and gently sucking on the sensitive bud. Tav moaned louder and threw her head back. She threaded her fingers through his light locks of hair and bucked, still needing more. Astarion began using the flat of his tongue to stimulate her clit and then took two fingers and began probing to see how ready she was to take his cock. Thankfully she was satisfyingly wet and so Astarion slipped two fingers inside her and bent his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion which hooked onto the rough patch of flesh that he knew to be her erogenous zone. With this, Astarion flicked and sucked the clitoris harder and faster and additionally added a third finger. Tav was in a wave of bliss. She was loving the pleasure she was being given and she loved how attentive he was to her body. He was very focused on her body’s small reactions. Astarion looped his arm so that his arm would hold his fiance’s hips down.

“Bite me!” Tav begged as she felt the familiar pressure inside her build. Her core burned with desire and burning electricity snuck down to her toes with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers.

“Gods below, are you delicious! Are you sure about me biting you?”  Astarion asked as he worked her bud. She was close, so very very close.

“Please!! It feels so good when you bite me!”

Chuckling to himself, Astarion commented “ We really were made for each other” Before licking and kissing a spot on her left leg and then sinking his teeth as nicely as he could. Astarion punctured the skin and began to draw the blood to the surface. As the blood hit the back of his throat, both of them were in ecstasy. Tav felt Astarion use his fingers on her clit as well as speed up. Tav went over the edge in a cry of elation as she called out his name. The hand threading into his hair tightened and she heard him growl in pleasure at it. Astarion was grinding against the bed, his hard-on painfully obvious. Astarion helped her ride through her orgasm until she was growing overly sensitive. Astarion pulled back from drinking too much and sealed the wounds on her thigh. Astarion straightened out and looked at the woman below him. She looked ethereal.

Astarion quickly yanked off his light armor after wiping his face with the back of his hand, then tossed his under shirt to the side of the bed. Astarion couldn’t work fast enough to undo his trouser laces as the pressure was too much between his legs. Tav at this point was able to sit up and helped her fiance out of his clothes by yanking his pants down. Astarion keeled on the bed in his light blue underwear, the head of his cock peeking out of the top of the briefs. Tav licked her lips and carefully pulled his underwear down so his cock and sack could finally be free. With a hiss of pleasure, Astarion finally had his clothes pooled around his knees. Tav reached out and leaned forward to take him in her mouth but Astarion took her lips into his own first.

“Please don’t, my love. I know what you want to do. I won’t last long if I’m in your succulent mouth, and I’d much rather be buried inside you.”

Tav pulled Astarion down with her, his lips on hers and their tongues against each other’s. Astarion kicked his pants and underwear off. Astarion rocked his hips gently into the crux between her legs, his cock rubbing against her clit deliciously. Tav would grind up to meet his motions as they drank deep of each other. Astarion pulled back, unable to take the teasing much longer, he aligned his cock with her vaginal cavity and in one quick motion he sunk himself deep to the hilt within her, eliciting a moan from them both.

“Gods below. How the hells are you always so tight, darling?” Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and waited a moment to give Tav time to adjust. When he felt her thrusting and moving against his hips, Astarion began to slowly roll his hips. Astarion dropped his lips to her left ear as he made love to her so he could huskily gasp out.

“I love you Tav. I love you so much it scares me. I’d either still be a slave and be horribly tortured for being abducted, or I’d be viscera on the floor from Cazador’s accession without you. You saved me. You complete me. Gods, sing for me, my love. Feel how much I love you.” Although Astarion did possess a silver tongue, He usually withheld expressing his love as much as he was now because he struggled with his own self worth but he recognized it in her. He saw how much she needed the reminder to her self worth and the reminder of his commitment.

Tav moaned as Astarion picked up the pace and sped his hips up. He began pulling back until the head of his cock was the only part nestled inside her and would drive himself home. Home was definitely the most appropriate word as when he was one with her, he felt complete. It was more than just sex, more than just the physical act. It was an expression of his soul. It took him a long time to realize this but he would be damned if he didn’t acknowledge it now. His hips would piston his manhood deep inside her as a hurried pace as it glided against her soft inner tissue and struck sensitive nerves and erogenous areas. Tav was singing his name by this point, his name a mantra upon her sweet lips. Tav stretched her neck to the side and Astarion knew what that meant. It was an invitation for his fangs once again to find themselves inside her flesh.

“I can’t . You haven't eaten in so long. Maybe our next round…” Astarion tried to rationalize even though he was craving her blood like a siren’s song. Astarion couldn’t get enough tasting her lips as her need for him grew muffled by their lip lock. Astarion shifted so he could grab hold and lift his partners leg by the knee. This gave him a better angle he could use to roll his hips against her and cover more of her sensitive tissue inside her. His length drove deeper than he had previously and Tav panted as her breasts bounced with each thrust. Astarion couldn’t help taking one in his mouth as his fiance grew louder and called out to him.

“I’m going to come!”

“Good. I can’t hold it much longer. Let go while I fill you.” Astarion choked out as his rhythm had long since faltered and his speed had increased to a punishing pace. The only sounds in the room save exclamations of pleasure and moans were the obscene wet noise and the slapping of the skin as Astarion pounded her special place. Astarion felt her walls contract around him before he heard her shatter in bliss. Astarion only got another stroke in before he too finished and spilled inside his fiance, slowing as he rode out their orgasms together. Astarion let out a groan of relief fill him as he grew almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his climax.

In an effort to not collapse on her, Astarion rolled off her and to the side where her drew her in and held her close. It took several minutes for their sweat soaked bodies to begin to tame their breathing and by then, Astarion had kissed her forehead and gotten up to ready a bath for the both of them.

Once the pair were lounging inside the tub while sensually maintaining an intimate hold, Tav finally perked up enough to ask a question she was wondering.  

“You said that you’d feed next round. Did you mean you wanted…you wanted to make love again?” Tav asked as she sat between Astarion’s legs and laid against his naked physique with her back to his chest. Astarion was gently cleaning the filth and grime from their adventures off her body with a soft rag and their bars of soap. Astarion smiled to himself and kissed her cheek before he ran the water over her hair to wash out the shampoo and then conditioner he worked through her locks.

“Of course my sweet. You think I can keep my hands off you that long? Just look at you! You’re a vision! Of course it may have to do with the fact that I love you more than Gale likes to talk about himself…so that is quite a bit.” Astarion joked towards the end earning a playful shove from Tav. Tav who was now clean, reciprocated towards her partner and lovingly wiped his body down and washed his hair (even with some hair hijinks) as well. Tav finished with his body, spending a few extra minutes teasing him below the waist, before they had fun tickling each other in the tub. Tav admitted defeat early on while Astarion took a moment to take a prize from the one he loved. He kissed her with love and passion, slipping his tongue against hers once against before a soft knock came at the door.

“Dinner’s on deck!” the unknown voice spoke out.

Astarion pulled away and helped his fiance out of the tub and get dried off, before he used the towel on himself. Tav threw on some basic clothes that wasn’t revealing after seeing Astarion become upset over a few deckhands who let this eyes wander earlier in the day.  Astarion did something similar but it wasn’t because of the same reasons. Astarion knew his only source of food on the trip would be Tav and so he had to focus on her health the most. He also had a personal vested interest in this situation considering how he felt about her. Of course the more he fed off her, the more he’d want her. It was a grueling cycle that made Astarion wish he had animal blood on hand so he could be in better control of himself. Knowing what he knew, he resigned himself to the fact that by the end of the trip, they’d be sore but damn would it be worth it. Astarion secretly liked the idea of Tav not being able to walk off the ship by the end of a tenday.

Astarion reached out and held Tav’s hand as they left the room. The captains quarters were located on the deck of the ship under the wheel while, as they were shown prior, the mess hall was under the deck. As a result it wasn’t a surprise to find that the deck was clear when they emerged. All the sailors were eating and the wheel was tied down. Astarion didn’t think it was the safest idea, but he also knew he wasn’t a sailor. As the couple approached the hatch that would lead them to the level they needed under the deck, Tav stopped. It was then that Astarion felt the air around them seem to charge with electricity and Astarion knew magic was at play in some regard. Before them and over the hatch a swirling blue circle had formed and Astarion knew exactly what it was. Cursing, Astarion drew his blades while Tav didn’t have her great sword due to the size of it and the quick trip for sustenance.

Astarion stood in front of Tav and braced himself for a fight. Who appeared out of the teleportation circle was not as expected however. Astarion and Tav expected warriors of Evereska to be pursuing them yet when Tav’s step mother and father emerged, it was surprising to the vampire and crippling to Tav. Aias and Saida Elleth were somehow on a moving boat on it’s way to Baldur’s Gate in an attempt to rectify the situation Astarion and Tav removed themselves from.

“You know how much I despise using my scrolls Tav. What the hell got into you both? We didn’t ask for much! Just a damn ritual since you couldn’t be bothered to find us when you decided to become an adventurer and get hitched as soon as a fine piece of meat strolled by.” Saida snapped at Tav who seemed to wilt under Saida’s verbal onslaught. “You have always been willful and stupid. You’re impulsive and…”

“Shut the fuck up you cow” Astarion seethed. He was incensed and would not allow this woman a chance to harass and hurt the woman he loved any longer. “Who do you think you are? Both of you? To think me and Tav will conceive a god for you just because you miss having a fucking boy. If you may not have realized, the woman you both abuse is also your child, but I guess it doesn’t matter since she doesn’t have a dick.” Astarion was sorry for Tav’s loss of a brother however the idea their heir needs to be male bothered him. Tav was a remarkable and frankly stunning woman. She was a natural leader and deserved everything good in the world. Astarion would protect her and her heart till the day his undeath was over.

“So you knew,” Aias said as he took a step towards the vampire. “You may not understand, but Tav does owe us. She had to be disciplined, yes, as she grew up. Most children do, which you will find out soon enough. Tav, let’s go.”

“Owe you? For what? Being born? That’s right, I do fucking know. I know you won’t touch her if I have anything to say about it” Astarion was still so outraged that he cursed frequently.

“And what will you do, child? I’m double your age by the looks of it. I have much more experience than you whelp.” Arias threatened.

“Maybe if I was just an elf it would be a problem, but I’m not, you piece of shit. I won’t do this ritual with Tav for your benefit, and I wont let her get hurt by you again!” Astarion growled as he backed up a little to feel Tav whose breath and heart rate concerned him.

“We don’t need you for the ritual. We’ve had a backup the entire time to take your place. It was just fortuitous she showed up with you. What do you mean you’re not just an elf?” Arias eyed him suspiciously when Astarion gave him a large toothy grin which exposed his fangs. To the elf’s credit, he displayed a perfect poker face except when Astarion had revealed his fangs, Astarion could hear his heart rate also increase and almost smell the fear on him.

“I mean, you will not touch or hurt a vampire’s fiance. I will fucking drain you dry, gods know how parched I am.” Astarion snarled at the next thought he vocalizes “And are you telling me you would have your own daughter raped if she didn’t have an elf in her life?”

Arias pulled out a dagger of his own but only one compared to Astarion having both of Orin’s daggers from a year ago.

“We do what we must to ensure the survival of our name.” was the only justification for something so vile and reprehensible. The thought made Astarion nauseous and very angry. How dare they think to hurt her that way!

“Your life is forfeit.” Astarion growled and launched an attack. Surprisingly Arias put up a decent fight, however he was nothing to a vampire’s enhanced strength and agility. Arias would parry and almost clipped Astarion’s cheek however in a move that was like a blur, Astarion had gotten behind the man and without hesitation he jumped on the man and bared his teeth. Astarion drank from the man who was powerless to fight him off. Astarion didn’t sink his teeth gently into the man like he did his beloved. Instead he tore open the skin savagely and as painfully as he could muster.

Astarion drank deeply of the man and was surprised her father’s blood tasted so rancid. He thought his fiance and her father would share something in common with their blood when he sank his teeth in but was astounded the man’s blood was little better than the rats he had to partake in under Cazador’s command. Astarion was only partly through the man’s blood when he saw something in the corner of his eye move.

His wife had begun to move, no longer stunned into silence she cried out.

“You piece of shit! I should have forced your mother to abort you and done the world a favor! I should have-” As the woman ran forward and grabbed the dagger Arias dropped. She went to attack Astarion physically while attacking Tav verbally. Tav, at this point, ran forward, grabbed Saida by the hair and yanked her back. The woman landed on her back on the floor with a thud and a curse.

“I’m tired of it, Saida!” Tav regarded her step mother by name and no longer by the title of mother. “I’m always so horrible yet you always need something from me! I’m better than this. I am better than you!” Tav screamed and pulled the dagger out that Astarion had gifted her earlier before plunging it into her step mother’s stomach, halting her advance on Astarion.

“But…but he is a monster!” Saida tried to reason with Tav. “He will kill him!” Saida held her stomach after Tav withdrew the blade.

“I only see two monsters here and it’s you two. That man is not a gods damn monster. He is my everything, my partner, and if he wants to kill my father? He had it coming.” With this said, Tav drew the blade against the thin skin of Saida’s throat, killing the woman as she drowned on her own blood.

Tav withdrew a bottle from her pack and bottled what she could of the woman’s life essence while Astarion brought the man closer to death. At the end, when he was not far from killing the man, Astarion stopped.  Astarion let his body slump down on the deck floor as he retrieved Tav.

“Darling? How are you feeling?”

“Better, lighter, maybe? I’m not sure.” Tav explained.  

“Maybe you’ll feel more complete once Arias is taken care of? Go ahead and finish this. Take back what they did to you and let’s not worry about them any longer darling.” Astarion gave her a tender look and care. He was not going to rob her of her chance for closure. He got a chance to kill Cazador, so she should get a chance to kill her demons, too.

 It was a tense moment for Tav to respond, but when she did, she took his dagger and stalked towards the incapacitated man. Astarion was with her the entire time and stayed with her, but at a distance, so she could do what she wished.

“Did you think that beating me would get you anywhere? Or the torture? You made me fear you for too damn long!! Now you will learn, you bastard!” Tav screamed at him and she launched into her own attack. Tav held the dagger vertically and jammed it between the neck and the collarbone. It made a sickening crunch as she pushed it to the hilt towards his heart. He would not survive this as the artery was also nicked, let alone the internal damage that was just inflicted. Astarion also always coats his blades in poison so Arias would soon die.

Seeming to know this and gasping at the pain, Arias said “ You bitch!!! You’re with an abomination and yet you think to tell me off? I wish I killed you, you pathetic excuse for a…”

Astarion had heard enough and punched the man in the face screaming at him to shut up, and further expletives.

Tav the took the dagger and stabbed the man through the eye. This was a killing blow as his body fell over the rest of the way - dead.

Tav sunk to her knees and held herself as she rocked. Astarion, seeing the carnage around them, quickly disposed the bodies and cleaned the scene before he returned to his fiance. Astarion helped her ground herself, as if he was her anchor to the world. He soothed her and held her as Tav dealt with the demons in her head from the horrific abuse she endured. Eventually, she calmed down enough she could function to a degree.

“Hey, my sweet, how are you feeling?” Astarion asked as he kissed her forehead. He continued holding her and rocking with her to help her come back to her senses.

“Empty. Void. I’m not sure how to feel after this.” Tav admitted

“Give yourself some time, my love. When I killed Cazador, I needed time to process it all and what it meant. You were there by my side through all of it. Now I will be by your side as well. Let’s get you some food and we can retreat to our bedroom to rest.” Astarion summized before kissing his fiance on the cheek and helping her to stand up.

The couple retrieved some food and no one was wiser about the carnage that had occurred on their ship. Once in the room, Tav showed Astarion the bottled blood she had which made Astarion very happy to see he had fresh blood waiting for him. Once in their room, Tav drew Astarion tight and kissed his neck.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Astarion asked, considering the silent request that passed between them.

“Make me forget. Please.”  Tav begged before Astarion kissed her sweetly.

She asked Astarion to make her forget and that is what he did. Throughout the voyage they made love without abandon, They spoke and cuddled until she felt a semblance of herself again creep back into her personality. Astarion was happy for this, and by the time they reached Baldur’s Gate, Astarion was also happy he had to help carry his beloved down and off the boat.

Things remained peaceful as they lived back in the house that was gifted to them a year ago. Astarion fiddled with the wedding rings in his pocket, only three more days to wait. He was beyond nervous but things would be okay. Tav and himself were healing and supporting each other the best they could. Astarion felt like a new man after Cazador’s defeat and Tav was getting to be her old self again. Things weren’t where they wanted to be, but they were improving. There was no shortage of love and care between the two and no matter what life threw at them, the couple would always work together to endure and preserve their family.

So imagine Tav and Astarion’s surprise when she ended up pregnant….  

Note: Please let me know what you think! My Ao3 is linked as PaganWitchIsis

[miasmaghoul]

Mushy May - Day 4

Prompt: First Kiss

Rating: Teen Pairing: Aether/Rain Contains: hurt/comfort, anxiety, a panic attack, first-time glamouring, Rain having a Bad Time and Aether making it better Word Count: ~3k (lmao what am I doing)

Summary: Rain feels like he's drowning. Aether helps him surface.

“It’s a lot to get used to,” Dew had told him a week ago, holding out a pile of black fabric, “you gotta practice while you can.”

He’d offered to help. To teach Rain how to breathe properly with his gills glamoured, how to cope with the added restriction of their stage costumes. Rain, prideful thing that he is, had refused. Of course he had. Had shrugged off Dew’s words and waved away the offer of help. He was certain he could manage on his own - he hardly planned on using his full glamour anyway, so what was the point in practicing? Besides, if Dew could do it then so could he. Dewdrop had given him a withering look, followed by a scoff.

“Whatever, wet boy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Rain had dismissed him with an exaggerated eye roll, returning to the very important task of filing his claws, and had promptly forgotten about the whole affair.

Until now. 

Because now, huddled in a damp corner of their venue’s shower room, Rain finds himself thinking the unthinkable: 

I should have listened to Dewdrop.

Everything feels too close, too tight. This form, this woefully human shape he’s been forced to take, brings with it an unexpected, crushing pressure. The uniform doesn’t help - it’s all skin tight, the fabric scratching at every inch of him. He feels flayed open, pink and raw; it’s visceral and wholly unsettling, but the vanishing of his gills is far and away the worst part. 

Rain paws at his own chest, tugging the knot of his tie in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. His mask and balaclava sit across the room, tossed away the moment he’d managed to get his shaky fingers to cooperate. It’s only been a few minutes since he stumbled his way in here, drawn by the presence of water and the oddly comforting scent of mildew, but Rain feels like he’s been suffering for years.

He can’t stop trembling, clutching his knees to his chest and fighting the razors in his throat. Clawing with his stupid, blunt, human nails at the places his gills should be - the sides of his neck, the ridges of his ribs. Trying to force them open again through his shirt, to rip away the binding magic trapping him in this sorry state. Gasping. Choking. Suffocating.

Satanas, he’s fucking drowning.

He’s drowning and it’s his own damn fault.

It shouldn’t be this bad. Nothing should be this bad. But from the moment Copia had said that incantation, had bound all of the ghouls to these horribly restrictive forms for the night, Rain hasn’t been able to catch his breath. Dew’s words swim though his head in a vague whisper of regret, one that Rain tries in vain to shake off. It only makes him dizzier.

There’s a call from somewhere outside the attached dressing room - twenty minutes til soundcheck - and it does nothing to help the tightness in Rain’s chest. His lungs ache, his throat burns, and his heart feels like it’s about to crash right through his ribcage. The edges of his vision are darkening already, and he can’t tell if it’s from the hot tears gathered in his lashes or a lack of air. Maybe both.

He’s going to die here. He knows he is. Tucked into a tight ball in some dingy shower, alone and terrified, on the night of his first ritual. The others will find nothing but a pile of damp clothes and the stink of sulfur, their water ghoul having discorporated and vanished back to the Pit. There’s no way around it. 

Rain hugs his knees and whimpers, feeling the knife between his ribs dig in deeper. He’s panting now - shallow, desperate hiccups of air. They’re all he can manage as the walls close in on him. The crushing weight of his own foolishness slams against his skull - he swears he can hear it, a hollow echo. Like distant footsteps on cold stone. Rain’s eyes slip shut, the tears begin to fall, and all he can do is wait for his lungs to give out.

“Rain?”

He jolts at the voice - a distant, low rumble that he doesn’t recognize. Do ghouls have a grim reaper? A being sent to collect their infernal essence and return it home? Is that who’s calling his name? Rain doesn’t know, and he doesn’t answer. He can’t. His voice went with his ability to breathe.

“Rain, where are you?”

It’s like he’s underwater. The voice is so foreign, lilting and accented in a way he can’t place. But it’s…soothing, somehow. Familiar, like a comfortable piece of clothing. He wants to lift his head but finds it immovable. Filled with cement. Those echoing footsteps in his head grow louder with each passing moment, and as his consciousness fades Rain swears he feels himself being lifted.

The next thing he feels is…warmth. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.

“Rain?” A warbling echo at the edge of his mind. “Can you hear me?”

There’s a weight on his chest, but it’s…different than it was before he felt the world slip away. Steady pressure, gentle, running the length of his sternum. It’s wonderfully grounding, puts him so at ease that he nearly forgets why he was so -

Rain’s eyes fly open and he sucks in air like a man starved, great gulps of the stuff that make his throat ache all over again. He thrashes, arches against the pressure on his chest and finds it doesn’t give. Rather, it holds him steady, keeps him pinned to - is he on a couch?

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” It’s that voice again, the one he somehow both did and didn’t know. “You’re okay Rain, I’ve got you.”

Whoever it is, he finds it easy to believe them. Rain blinks as he catches his breath, clears the wet haze from his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expects to see, but it certainly isn’t a water-stained ceiling. At length he manages to turn his still-heavy head to the side. When he does, he’s met with a silver mask...and a pair of familiar lavender eyes. 

“Ae…Aether?” The name comes out raspy and worn, like Rain had been screaming. The other ghoul nods, and Rain realizes that the pressure on his chest is Aether’s hand. His shirt is unbuttoned, and that large, callused palm feels heavenly against his clammy skin. “What…how…”

“The Cardinal sent me to get you for soundcheck,” he explains, eyes scanning Rain’s face. The accent is fascinating, but now that Rain knows who he’s hearing he can pick out the familiar timbre of Aether’s usual voice. “Found you in the bathroom, pale as anything.”

“Couldn’t breathe,” Rain manages after a few moments, clearing his throat with a wince. “Couldn’t…without my gills, I -”

“I figured as much,” Aether murmurs. Rain gives the other ghoul a quizzical look, and Aether cracks the tiniest smile. “This happened to Dew too, the first time. Didn’t he tell you?” Rain stares at him, wide-eyed.

“What did?”

“The panic,” Aether says gently. “You had a panic attack, Rain.”

Rain blinks at him. 

A…a panic attack? No, that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right.

“No,” he murmurs, brow furrowed. “No it - it was the binding spell. It…it took my gills and I-”

“It did, yes,” Aether confirms, canting his head. “But you’re breathing fine without them now, aren’t you?” 

Rain blinks again, finally taking full stock of himself. Of the rise and fall of his ribcage and the now-steady thud of his heart, and finds that he can’t argue. His chest still aches, but it feels more like muscle strain and less like breathlessness. It feels like the almost pleasant burn that follows his lengthy swims in the abbey’s lake, or one of his more energetic romps with Swiss. Rain brings a hand to his throat, just to be sure, and Aether laughs through his nose.

“See?” Aether pats his chest, a reassuring gesture. “Just fine without them.”

Silence blankets them, and it gives Rain time to think. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time with the ghoul before him in the months since his summoning. Not for lack of wanting - he likes Aether, (very much, if he were to be honest), but with the hectic nature of pre-tour life there hadn’t been much of a chance to…connect. A few shared meals, a handful of fleeting touches in the common room - ones he revisited in the comfort of his own bed - and one very close call on the tour bus were all Rain had to show for his interest.  

So yes, he does like Aether. More importantly, though, he trusts Aether. The other ghoul had earned it with his calm demeanor, the way he carries himself, the way he treats others. They all rely on him, even the Cardinal. That’s probably why he���d been sent to fetch Rain in the first place - Copia knew he would actually do it, not just sneak off in an effort to shirk their duties. If it were any other ghoul, Rain would simply wave off the idea of what he’d just experienced being something as paltry, as…human, as a panic attack.  

But it isn’t another ghoul. It’s Aether. Aether, with his kind eyes and soft smile. Aether, with his broad body and gentle nature. Aether, who is currently rubbing slow circles into his warming skin. Rain realizes in a delayed sort of way that the ghoul’s other hand is in his hair, scratching lightly at the place where his horns should be. He wants to purr with it, but it comes out as a deep hum instead. Aether chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a sign that you’re feeling better,” he murmurs, and Rain can’t deny that he’s right. He rests a hand on top of the one on his chest and gives Aether a shy nod.

“Yeah,” he huffs, voice still strained, “some.”

“Good. Do you think you can sit up?” 

Rain isn’t sure he wants to. Aether’s hands feel so nice, his presence so calming, and Rain doesn’t want to lose either one. Voices in the hall bring him back a bit, though; right, he has a job to do here. He heaves out a harsh exhale and nods, giving Aether’s hand a squeeze. The other ghoul sits back on his heels and Rain sighs at the loss of his touch. He braces himself and forces his body upright, grunting with the effort of swinging his legs over the edge of the couch.

The pain hits him all at once. 

“Oh, my fucking head,” he groans, hunching and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Shit.”

“Headache? Dew had a nasty one too.” Those large hands grip his wrists and give a coaxing tug. “You’re only going to make it worse doing that,” Aether chides. “Here, let me help.”

Rain isn’t sure how he can, given the fact that he’s pretty sure there’s an ice pick lodged in his brain, but he obliges. Allows Aether to bring his hands down and rest them on his own thighs. The other ghoul nudges his shoulder and Rain reluctantly raises his head, finding Aether knelt between his splayed legs. The sight sends a swoop of something entirely inappropriate through his belly, and Rain tries his best to ignore it. It’s hard to do when Aether cups his face with both hands, rough thumbs dragging over his cheekbones. The other ghoul gives him a smile and Rain swallows hard.

“Try to relax, alright? This might feel a bit…odd.”

Rain blinks owlishly, opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his tongue as a wave of hot pressure fills his sinuses. It travels up behind his eyes, fills his ears and skull, wraps around his brainstem and trickles down his spinal cord. It only lasts a few seconds, and as the sensation fades Rain finds every bit of pain and lingering discomfort fading right along with it. He feels lighter than air, dizzy in a way that plasters a dazed look on his face. 

“There we are,” Aether coos, pulling his hands back. “How’s that? Better?”

“What was that?” Rain hardly recognizes the syrupy sound of his own slurred voice. Aether lets out a soft snort, resting his palms on Rain’s bony knees.

“Just a little something to take the edge off,” he says with a wiggle of his fingers. Rain finds himself entranced by the way Aether’s rings glint in the low light of the room. “I can’t do much beyond pain relief in this sorry state,” Aether gestures at his own glamoured body, “but that should at least be enough to get you through the ritual.”

Rain offers a slow nod, but he isn’t really focused on the words. His - well, everything, really, has gone fuzzy. Pleasantly warm and tingly, like he’d been wrapped in an electric blanket. He feels…safe, he thinks is the word for it. Anchored in a way he certainly wasn’t before Aether had rescued him from his breathless spiral. That seems like a distant memory now, a blip on the radar. All he can feel is a delightful buzz in the back of his head and the grounding weight of Aether’s hands on his knees.

“Rain? Are you still with me?” The ghoul blinks, refocusing on the masked face before him. He nods again, gaze bouncing between those stunning lavender eyes and plush lips. 

Those lips…

“Yeah,” he breathes, gripping his own thighs, “yeah, I…I’m…” 

He probably shouldn’t be staring at that unbearably pretty mouth. Shouldn’t be imagining how Aether’s chapped lips would feel on his. What he should do is say thank you. Tell Aether how appreciative he is of his help, of his care. He should say it and offer a handshake, or maybe a hug. Something small, but still affectionate. Something he won’t regret once the fuzziness in his brain fades. 

He doesn’t mean to lean in. Not really. He shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he’s wanted to for the past few months. 

But, well, he is leaning in. He’s leaning in and Aether isn’t pulling back. In fact, Rain’s pretty sure he’s tilting his head. Making space. Angling himself so his mask isn’t in the way and oh fuck he’s really going to do this.

When they kiss, Rain’s mind goes quiet.

It isn’t long. Isn’t deep or wet or messy. What it is, is wonderfully simple - a humble, chaste meeting of the lips. Short and sweet and somehow completely, utterly perfect. Rain pulls back just enough to let Aether see the enormous grin he can feel splitting his face, and to his delight the other ghoul returns it.

“I was wondering when we’d get around to that,” Aether says with amusement, squeezing Rain’s knees. Rain huffs out a laugh.

“Me too,” he admits, “maybe not quite like that, but I’m not going to complain.” 

“Neither am I.” Aether’s smile is devastating, wide and bright. “But as much as I’d like to carry on, I’m afraid we’ve got a job to do.”

Rain sighs, nodding - he’s held them all up long enough. He busies himself buttoning his shirt and tries not to mourn the loss of Aether’s hands when the other ghoul wanders over to one of the vanities on the far wall. He doesn’t have to mourn for long, though. Only for the time it takes for Aether to fetch his discarded tie, mask and balaclava. Rain eyes them with more than a little trepidation, his stomach giving a weak flip. His discomfort must be obvious - Aether lays a hand on his shoulder and holds him steady.

“It’s alright,” he promises, sitting at Rain’s side. “Let me help.”

Aether is so very gentle with him. So much so that it makes Rain blush. He talks through everything he does - knotting Rain’s tie, sliding on his balaclava, tucking back his hair. Aether checks in on him with every step, and Rain doesn’t think he has enough words for how grateful he feels. There’s still an edge of unease settling in his chest, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

Aether tells him about how things went with Dew the first time he’d had his gills glamoured. Tells Rain that he needs to have a talk with their newly minted fire ghoul about ways to cope so the panic doesn’t rear its ugly head again. Rain promises he will - his own pride isn’t worth the black hole in his chest.

“There we are,” Aether remarks with one final tuck of a particularly stubborn curl, “well done.” Rain could chirp at the praise, and at the way Aether’s hand lingers on his cheek. “Last step,” he adds after a moment, “and I think you should do this one.”

Aether holds up his mask, and Rain tries not to cringe at the very obvious scuff across its right cheek. From where he’d tossed it on the ground, he imagines. Hopefully it’ll buff out. He accepts the offering with a small nod and raises the mask to his face, stretching the straps to slip it over his head.

“Oh, hang on,” Aether says suddenly, and Rain looks over at him just in time to watch the other ghoul slide his own mask up with a thumb. “One more thing.”

Aether leans in and kisses him for real this time - lush and full, unyielding. Rain drops his mask in favor of grabbing hold of Aether’s square jaw, luxuriating in the feel of the other ghoul’s lips on his. It’s over far too soon, but the glimmer in Aether’s eye when he pulls away is full of promise. 

“For good luck,” he lilts, and Rain goes warm all over. Aether fixes his mask, Rain slips on his own, and together they stand. Aether gives Rain’s tie one final adjustment before nodding, giving his chest a pleased pat. “Now let’s get going before they send in the cavalry.” Rain nods, fiddling with the end of his tie.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the words long overdue. “For everything.” Aether hums and takes hold of Rain’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles.

“My pleasure,” he croons, and Rain would do anything to kiss him again. But for now, that will have to wait.

For now, the feel of Aether’s hand around his own is enough. 

[karniss-bg3]

Going to use November as my month for writing, not novels, but anything at all (getting out of a creative funk via bg3). Kar'niss/Halsin got me eyezoom cause I do love that sweet hunk of an elf and the bug. Maybe you don't feel confident writin' origins, but perhaps, you could indulge us, in some bullet-point prompts of your own! Ideas! How might they meet, how might they seek each others company (tav not available hes the next calmest thing to karniss? KARNISS DUCK TAXI? Neither of them want to go into the city and stuck together at camp). I'LL WRITE IT. I am overconfident in my ability to slip into characters like a poltergeist. But situations maker, I am not.

Go go gadget prompt generator!

-Halsin is in need of rare bark/seeds/nuts/leaves from rather tall trees. He can’t reach and while he could wildshape to get to what he is after, he instead asks for Kar’niss’ aid to retrieve what he needs.

-Kar’niss runs into trouble while spinning a web in the forest. A gang of squirrels chitter in anger at him and while he tries to run them off they won’t leave him alone. Halsin offers to mediate the dispute using the speak with animals spell.

-Kar’niss is unable to find rest one night. The voices in his mind refuse to go silent and he’s close to having a panic attack. Halsin intervenes and offers something to aid his tormented mental state. This could be meditation, burning a certain collection of herbs and breathing in the smoke, an elixir made from special plants, or even offering him physical contact to help soothe his fear.

-They wander into town and the villagers give Kar’niss a hard time. They either heckle him, throw things, or give him the stink eye. Halsin wildshapes into a giant spider in solidarity, or he steps in to talk sense into the townsfolk in an effort to protect Kar’niss.

-Assassins from the Underdark come to collect Kar’niss’ head in the name of Lolth. It is up to Halsin, Tav, and others at camp to fend them off and keep the drider safe. Add or remove characters at your leisure.

-Kar’niss injures himself in some way. Perhaps one of his legs is broken in a fight. Halsin stays by his side and tends to his wounds dutifully, offering him comfort and kind words through the healing process. He may even have to hunt animals for Kar’niss to eat during this time.

-Halsin falls ill while the pair are traveling. Kar’niss pulls Halsin over his back and carries him to the nearest town to seek aid. He runs into push back from the townspeople but insists on someone helping Halsin, finding his voice in so doing.

These are a few good ones to start with. Enjoy and have fun writing!

[ateezivy]

it's strange

wave era ( 2019 )

jongho and ivy are close enough to know what the other is thinking at this point. they know everything about each other, everything. and it's so easy for them to pick up on something.

"you good?" jongho was leaned against the rooms door as ivy laid in bed reading. she seemed startled by the olders sudden appearance.

"yeah, why?"

she knew why, she's been acting weird all week. hell, maybe even longer. jongho sighs and shuts the door, keeping outside ears from hearing their conversations.

"you're acting differently" he raised an eyebrow.

"i'm not trying to," she shrugged. he knew that, she doesn't like standing out more than she already did. "it it that obvious?"

jongho shrugged with a head tilt "to me, yeah, but the others know you almost as much as i do"

she grumbled and rolled over in her bed, stuffing her head in her pillow.

"so tell me what's bothering you so i can help" the older said, sitting beside her

"i can't" she muffled from her pillow.

"why not?"

"it's... complicated"

"is that code for 'you haven't told your therapist yet'"

"maybe."

"jisoo-ah, you can tell me. not like i'm gonna run and tell seonghwa-hyung or something" he chuckled. ivy will tell seonghwa anything, but it has to be at a time where she's ready. she says he can be dramatic when it comes to certain situations and the first thing he wants to do is solve the issue. but ivy like to let the issue sit for a while.

ivy sat up, breathing in deeply,

"yeah, about that, i already told him"

"what? before me? since when?" jongho chuckled, showing a hint of betrayal.

"listen i was freaking out and you weren't home and you definitely would've made fun of me for it" she rambled, trying to defend her simple action.

"because i didn't even mean to tell seonghwa" she sighed, "i was panicking"

"okay well panic again and tell me" he said

"jonho!"

"what?" he said "i wanna help. and know"

"...you can't make fun of me"

"okay," he nods. she thinks for a second and sighs

"it's wrong, and i know i shouldn't..." she plays with the rings on her fingers "i like mingi"

"oh shit."

jongho knows her and mingi's relationship was one of a kind, but he didn't think either of them liked the other. especially not olivia of all people. "for how long"

"a while. i liked him before we even debuted" she refuses to make eye contact with her friend. this could ruin everything. literally. everything.

"why is it different now?"

she clears her throat, shifting around "i think it's just gotten stronger"

she feels butterflies, around the guy who's supposed to be nothing more than a best friend, nothing more than metaphorical family. it was wrong to like someone you work with as it is, but to be in the same group. live with each other, share a room together. she never goes a day without seeing him. ever.

"what did hwa say"

"he was shocked. he told me to talk to him. but i can't do that" she chuckled

"why not"

this is when she finally looks at him. she shoots him a glare as if saying 'be so for real right now'

"you know why"

ivy gets off her bed to put her clothes away, they've been sitting in that pile for two days.

"what if he likes you back"

"we can't date"

"says who?" jongho really wasn't one to care about what others say anyway.

"everyone, literally everyone"

"we don't have a dating ban jisoo-ah"

oh. and the contracts never said anything about relationships within groups.

"it'll still ruin things"

"people ship you with all of us anyway" jongho says, fighting every word she says

"just because people say they want something doesn't mean they'd be happy when it does."

this is very true, especially in the kpop fandom. people ship male idols with other male idols, but heaven forbid gay kpop idols actually come out. it angered ivy, the way people switch up their dreams when it becomes reality.

"you should still talk to him, maybe hongjoong too" jongho sighed, ruffled her hair, and then walked out of the room.

leaving ivy all by herself, to think.

taglist: @atolua @skzfairies @itzy-eve @cixrosie @stopeatread @alixnsuperstxr @smh-anon

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Sneak Peek - Kingmaker Chapter 3: It's a Secret to Everybody

Read the story so far here:

Mo Ran held up the scroll, 'Read this to me, I need to memorise it for tomorrow.'

Shi Mei picked up the scroll and did as instructed, 'Sisheng Peak is the ruling kingdom of the Lower Cultivation Realm, it was founded by the Xue family.'

Mo Ran tried to focus on the words falling from Shi Mei's mouth, but they were all incredibly dull. His eyelids became heavy as he propped his cheek on the palm of his hand.

Shi Mei remained focused on reading the passage before him, 'The Xue family established 750 rules which must be followed. 100 of these rules pertain to the behaviour of the king. Should the king break any of the 100 rules, he will be placed upon the Platform of Sin and Virtue and be dealt the appropriate punishment by his sworn knight. A further 200 rules are applied to the Knights of the Inner Circle, ensuring their fealty and the security of Sisheng's ruler... Mo Ran! Are you sleeping?'

Shi Mei's shout startled him awake, 'No, I was closing my eyes so I could visualise it better.'

'What did I say?'

Mo Ran blinked, still a little dazed from his impromptu nap, 'You were talking about the knights.'

'What about them?'

'That... you said the knights - they have to follow 200 rules and if they don't then the king has the right to chop their heads off.'

Shi Mei narrowed his eyes, 'Tell me one of the rules they have to follow.'

'They mustn't fuck the king, for a cut-sleeve cannot continue the line,' Mo Ran repeated words from his lesson with Chu Wanning, cautiously optimistic he'd taken them directly from the scroll.

Shi Mei refused to acknowledge him. Instead he re-rolled the scroll and returned it to Mo Ran.

'Was that all there was?'

'No, but you aren't listening to me, so what's the point.'

Shi Mei turned to leave. Mo Ran scrambled from his seat, bashing his knee against the corner of the table in his rush to reach Shi Mei. Scrolls scattered across the ground and he tried his best not to stand on them.

He held onto Shi Mei's arm in a move he was certain wasn't proper and hoped didn't fall under the 100 rules he could be punished for, 'Please don't go.'

Shi Mei pulled his arm away, 'I'm not here for your entertainment. Making me do such mundane things. Was it to prove a servant could read?'

'No!'

'I'm happy to help you Mo Ran, but I will not be humiliated.'

Panic surged within him and before he could stop himself, Mo Ran blurted out 'I can't read!'

Once the words fell from his lips, there was no way to take them back. Mo Ran fidgeted on the spot, cheeks burning with shame. An illiterate, bastard, cut-sleeve. Sisheng Peak truly had reached a new low when they summoned him. Shi Mei blinked, as though he didn't fully comprehend Mo Ran's confession. Seconds felt like hours in the silence. Mo Ran opened his mouth to break it, but Shi Mei spoke first.

'Ser Chu really is a good teacher, you should be honest with him.'

'Can't I wait a little bit longer? I want to prove I'm someone worthy.'

Shi Mei frowned, 'A king doesn't need to prove anything.'

The words hung heavily in the air between them, filled with promise and potential. Shi Mei was right. Mo Ran had been thinking about it all wrong. Instead of begging for favours from the ones who raised him up, they should be the ones licking his boots. Without him, the Xue line would be finished. Anyone could take over the kingdom. Mo Ran controlled his fate now, he didn't need to be frightened of everything anymore. What did it matter if Chu Wanning found out he couldn't read? Shi Mei had proven himself capable. The bare semblance of an idea began to form.

'From now on,' Mo Ran said, 'You'll be my eyes.'

Shi Mei smiled, 'My King, it would be an honour.'

[knightinink]

Mermay Dip au!

How They Met!

-Pip lives in a reef, taking care of the surrounding area & wildlife in return for them letting him live there. He was chased away from his school after a deadly shark attack. He hasn’t seen any of them since, so he assumes they’re all dead. Life has been good for him in the reef, but that all changes when one day a very powerful hurricane sweeps through the area, disturbing the wildlife. During this, Pip gets thrown out to sea, far away from the reef. He is thrown in the way of the storm’s path, so he will eventually be hit by it again & be thrown out even further. He sustains minor injuries (like various scrapes & bruising from being thrown into things, but nothing too substantial. He bleeds just enough for it to attract a smaller creature, his quiet distress calls doing so as well as he blacks out from the hurricane.

-The creature that is responding to Pip’s cries is one of darkness, & cannot venture past a certain depth, for he will go blind. He is fully prepared to consume this creature, that is until he sees just what it is, and that plan is quickly thrown out the window. This is a mer. He hasn’t come into contact with another one like himself in so long, he cannot allow harm to come to this one. Instead, once he gets close enough, Damien grabs the other & brings him to a deep alcove, where he can hopefully rest undisturbed.

-Pip eventually wakes up & is obviously concerned, as he has no idea where he is. Looking around his surroundings in a panic, he freezes as he makes eye contact with piercing red eyes in the shadowy part of the cave.

-“Who are you? Come out!”

-“No.”

-Damien refuses to move, which annoys Pip until Damien disappears after saying “You don’t need to see me. Not now. Just shut up and rest, you looked pretty out of it.”

-Pip calls out to the other mer a few times before realizing he’s been left alone. He huffs, and decides to dunk his head under the water from the ledge he’s resting on, just to get himself wet (he isn’t sure how long he’s been laying out of the water). He catches a glimpse of something moving near him in the water & feels a light thump next to him, prompting him to shoot out of the water to face the impending danger. Instead of a threat, however, sitting just a foot away from him is a fish, looking to be freshly caught, as the teeth marks around it are still bleeding slightly. Pip picks it up & sniffs it, & not sensing any tampering, eats it slowly. Unbeknownst to him, there is a pair of red eyes just above the waterline watching him eat, & they disappear as soon as Pip turns in his direction.

-A bit of time passes & Pip is anxious to return home (wherever home is; he doesn’t know how far out he is), but he also likes his new friendship with Damien, who seems just as surprised to see another mer as he is, despite the difference in species. Damien agrees to help Pip search for his home, and they cover more and more ground each day, marking their travels so as to not lose their way back home to their underwater cave.

-They have this ritual where, if they are swimming a bit higher & Damien cannot see as well, Pip will guide him along, holding his hand the entire time. It’s the same thing when they’re swimming in deeper waters where it is harder for Pip to see. They have also devised a different series of calls: a simple locating call, a discovery call, a call of distress, and several others that are all various whistles & clicks.

More Little Factoids!

-Damien’s design & concept is based off a black dragonfish. He’s got little bioluminescent spots on his sides, running all the way to the base of his tail. His horns & claws will grow longer as he ages, & he will gain more spines along his back.

-Pip’s design is one of more creative liberty; he’s got the body & markings of a koi, but his base is red & his splotches are brown (better for camouflage & also referencing bruising from being picked on by the others kids in the show). His coloring becomes much more vibrant once he reaches adulthood, his coloring more like a flame angel, & his splotches turn to a vibrant purple color inspired from the same fish.

-Pip’s got tiny fangs (& I mean they’re almost unnoticeable) that secrete a toxin, but he doesn’t know he can do this. (he has bright colors, I’m gonna say he’s venomous).

-At night, Damien can swim a bit higher than he normally would, as it’s dark enough for him to be able to see a bit better.

-They can breach water, but Pip can go for longer, as Damien’s not built to do so; he’s from the ocean floor, there’s no reason for him biologically to go to the surface. Despite this, they can both switch between breathing water & oxygen.

-As children, I like to think Pip is around 4 feet long from head to fin tip, & Damien is around 3½ feet long from head to fin tip. As adults, Pip will be a good 8 feet, & Damien will be nearly 10 feet long.

[mama-qwerty]

What happened after Eclipse's panic attack from losing the game to Silver?

Picking up from the end of this one.

~~~~~

It had been two days since Eclipse's panic attack after losing to Silver at a children's board game. The darkling had fallen asleep in Callie's lap, and sleep most of the rest of the night.

Since then, when the redhead tried to talk to him about the things he'd said while in the throes of said panic, the boy staunchly refused to discuss it. His overall mood was withdrawn and quiet.

Silver noticed the change in his brother, and cautiously approached his mother to talk about it. Callie sat with the hedgehog, out of earshot of Eclipse, and spoke to him gently.

"You know how Eclipse was created as the 'ultimate weapon' for the Black Arms?" Silver nodded. "And remember what he told us about his father?" Another nod. "Well, I don't think his father treated him very well. Especially when Eclipse lost. And now your brother thinks he should never lose, or he'll be in trouble."

The hedgehog furrowed his brow. "But everyone loses sometimes. You can't win all the time. It's okay to lose. Right?"

Callie nodded. "I know that, and you know that, but I don't think Eclipse knows that. I think he . . ." She paused, thinking of the best way to phrase it. "I think his father punished him whenever he lost."

"Oh." Silver lowered his head slightly, before peeking up at her. "Bad?"

The librarian gave a little sigh. If anyone understood harsh physical punishments for any misdeed, Silver did. He'd suffered plenty of them at the hands of Dr. Starline. She nodded. "Pretty bad, I think."

"Oh." They sat in silence for a long moment, as Silver traced the circle on the palm of his hand with a finger. "I didn't know that."

His forehead fan began to bristle, and Callie smoothed it flat with a gentle stroke of her hand. "What happened the other night wasn't your fault, honey. We didn't know. You guys have played plenty of games together and he never once reacted like this. I don't know what it was about that game in particular that set him off, but it did, and now we know. Can't help him if we don't know what's wrong, right?"

Silver nodded, but kept his eyes on the finger circling his palm. "If I knew it would bother him so much, I would have let him win."

"Ah, that wouldn't have solved anything," Callie said, pulling the boy to snuggle in her lap. She caressed his muzzle with a knuckle. "He would have gone off at some point, and I'd rather he do this at home where we can contain it, as opposed to out in public where he may hurt someone. It's not your fault, babydoll."

The boy didn't respond, but he moved to pull his hands close to his chest. Callie gently rocked him, trying to soothe his growing anxiety.

"Hey, remember when you first came and you thought you needed to behave in a certain way, or else I'd get angry with you?" He nodded, his head bumping her chin. "Remember how we worked through that, and now you feel more comfortable?" Another nod. "This is kinda the same thing. Eclipse is used to being treated a certain way when he loses, so we just need to help him see that losing isn't a big deal. Right?" A third nod. "Right. Why don't you head over to the Wachowski's in a little bit, and I'll see what I can do for your brother. Sound like a plan?"

"Okay."

They sat together for while, and when Callie was confident Silver's anxiety and misplaced guilt had passed, she let him go to head to Sonic's house.

Now she stood watching her younger son as he played Mario Kart. He sat stone still, eyes glued to the TV, and thumbs moving over the controls. A look of pure concentration painted his features, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him look so serious.

Taking a breath for strength, she stepped into the room.

"Hey, Monkey," she called, flopping herself on the couch. He sat cross-legged on the floor before the TV. "How's the game going?"

"Fine." It was little more than a grunt.

"Good." She reached forward and grabbed the second controller off the coffee table. "Can I play?"

Eclipse paused the game and turned to give her a confused look over his shoulder. "Why?"

"I gotta have a reason to want to play the game system my boys spend way too much time on?" she said with a shrug. "C'mon. Lemme in."

The boy studied her for another few seconds, before turning and exiting his game to switch to two player.

For a while, the two played in silence. Callie--who was actually pretty darn good at Mario Kart, thanks to constant challenges from a certain blue hedgehog--feigned ignorance and spent a good amount of time crashing into walls or slipping off the track. Eclipse easily won against her, and it helped perk his mood. He began to laugh and the two traded teasing and jokes over the next few races.

Then she slowly got 'better'. Before, she finished last in nearly every race, but now she moved up higher. Over the next hour, she steadily gained on Eclipse, and claimed to be 'getting the hang of it'.

The darkling's mood began to drop again. His growing frustration became evident during their most recent race, when Callie made her way to the front. Eclipse was stuck in 4th.

His tail flicked in an obvious agitated manner.

They were on their last lap, and Callie moved around the track quickly. The finish line was in sight.

Right before she crossed it, she paused the game.

"What are you feeling, right now?" she asked quietly, her voice soft.

The boy growled, his back still to her. "MAD!"

"How do you feel?"

Another growl, his hands clutching the controller in a death grip. "My stomach hurts!"

"What about your chest?"

"TIGHT!" he yelled, jumping to his feet and turning to her. A deep scowl twisted his muzzle. "I'M GONNA LOSE!"

"Yes, you are," she said, scooting forward on the couch until she perched on the edge. "Why is that so terrible?"

"I CAN'T LOSE!" He hauled his arm back to pitch the controller, and Callie moved quickly to snatch it from his hand before he could. The scowl never left his face. "I CAN'T!!"

"Why?" she asked, going to her knees before him. "What happens when you do?"

"He won't let me lose! He . . . he makes me stronger!"

"How? How does he make you stronger?"

"HE HURTS ME!" the boy cried, his clawed hands going to his head spikes and yanking. A little habit he'd picked up from his brother. "He hurts me and tells me it's because I lost and it'll help me be stronger and better and faster and if I didn't lose he wouldn't need to keep doing that and I fail I keep failing and losing and he keeps hurting me and it won't stop it'll never stop because I'm a disappointment and won't stop failing him!"

By the end of his rant he was speaking fast, his voice higher pitched. Tears streamed down his muzzle. He was spiraling.

Callie knew she probably shouldn't touch him, not when he's panicking again, but reached forward and pulled him to her anyway. He stiffened in her arms, trail thrashing behind him as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice soft but firm in his ear. "Listen. What he did was not your fault. You could have done everything exactly right, and he still would have hurt you. Because it's got nothing to do with making you stronger or better or whatever he said. It's about power. It's about control. And sometimes it's about someone being cruel just because they like it, and they can."

Eclipse struggled in her arms, growling and hissing at her words.

"NO! You don't know him! You don't know! He's the greatest Black Arms there ever was! He's strong and wants me to be strong too! He does whatever necessary to take care of the Black Comet! He takes care of his people!"

"Then why are you here?"

Her voice was soft in his ear, and he stopped struggling with a jerk. Now he stood, trembling in her arms.

They didn't know why he was here. He couldn't remember anything before waking up in the forest all those months ago. He'd always suspected he was on some secret mission, but as the days turned into weeks, and then months, with no clear objective, that theory was looking less and less likely.

What was looking more likely, was that he was abandoned. Cast aside for one too many failures. Banished to some backwater mudball, awaiting the inevitable arrival of the Black Comet, and the ultimate destruction of every living thing on the planet.

It was a theory Callie had developed over time, especially with the things Eclipse had told her about Black Doom. She suspected he may also have considered it, but never verbalized it to himself.

Now she released him, and cupped his muzzle with her hands. Her thumbs moved in small arcs, wiping the tears as he sniffed back more.

"I may not know your father, but I know people like him," she said, locking her blue-green eyes with his gold. "I've dealt with people like him. They hurt you, and tell you it's your fault it happened. If you'd only done this, or not done that, or said this, or not said that, then they wouldn't have to hurt you. Wouldn't have to punish you. They want you to think there is some way to make them happy." She shook her head. "Honey, there isn't. No matter what you do, they will always hurt you. Because they like how it makes them feel when they do."

The darkling stared at her, his eyes big and round. He sniffed, and when he spoke next, his voice was soft and cracked. "Why?"

Callie sighed. "I wish I knew, baby. I really do. And I wish there was some magic thing I could do or say to take all your pain away. You don't know how much I wish that. But what I can do, is tell you that you are safe, you will always be safe, so long as you're here with me. It's okay to lose, it's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to just be you. Because as much as you make me want to yank my hair out some days, I love you, just as you are."

Fresh tears trickled from his eyes, and she pulled him closer for another hug. He trembled in her arms for a long moment, before slowly wrapping his own around her.

"You are safe," she said again, placing a gentle kiss on his head. "No one is going to hurt you. Never again. And if someone does, they'll have to answer to me."

Eclipse uttered a sound between a laugh and a sob, before burying his face into the crook of her neck. He moved his body forward, crawling into her lap and pressing himself tightly against her.

"You are my son now," she said, holding him tightly and placing little kisses on the top of his head. "And I am so proud of you. I love you so much. And I will never, ever, let you go."

He sniffed. "Really?"

"Well, some days you make me consider selling you to the zoo," she teased, giving him a little poke in the side and drawing a soft giggle from him. "But I haven't so far, have I?" He shook his head. "Nope. So, looks like you may be stuck with me for the long haul. You lucky darkling, you."

Eclipse tightened his arms around her, and let out a long sigh. "So . . . I'm not a failure?"

"Oh my lord, do I have to clean out those little ear holes of yours?" Callie leaned forward and blew a raspberry on his shoulder. "No, you're not a failure. You're a kid. Kids make mistakes. Actually, everyone makes mistakes. Even grown ups. Even Black Doom."

He pulled back quickly at that to look at her. "Even him?"

She nodded. "Know what his biggest mistake was?" He shook his head. "Sending you here. Know why?" Another shake. "Because now the ultimate weapon of the Black Arms is my kid, and he'll never, ever, ever get you back. If he ever tried, he'd have to go through me."

A look of worry passed over Eclipse's face. "He's really powerful. He could hurt you. Kill you."

Callie shook her head, her lips pulled into a smirk. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and even that pales in comparison to a mother defending her child. And besides, I've got a mighty echidna warrior, two super-powered hedgehogs, and a brainiac fox in my corner. What's he got? The whole Black Arms race? Pfft. Hardly a fair fight."

The darkling kept staring at her for a long moment, an unreadable look on his face. "You'd really fight . . . for me?"

The snark and joking faded from Callie's demeanor, and she leaned forward to plant a kiss on the boy's muzzle. "Little man, I would do anything to keep you or your brother safe. You two are the most important people in the entire world to me. So yes, I would really fight for you."

The tears returned in full force once that statement hit home, and Eclipse leaned forward to hug his mother with all his might. Callie gladly held him, whispering soothing words and rocking him gently.

~~~

Like this? Check out my other shorties. Reblogs are appreciated!

[ls-daydreams]

Forget-Me-Not Intro

A suicidal reporter becomes the object of a serial killer's affections.

DETAILS: genre — thriller, romance // themes — grief, peculiar love, beauty in ugliness // status — finished // medium — film // wordcount — 25k words // warnings — murder, suicide, death, blood, panic attacks, cutting

READ HERE

Story Tag | Playlist - Spotify | Playlist - Youtube

Summary, Characters & More Info under the cut

SUMMARY: Haunted by never-ending tragedies, reporter Seo Joon decides to end his life in an almost derelict bath house. It's there he runs into a pair of odd strangers who force him to pick a side when they get into a violent fight, Seo Joon accidentally ending up killing one to save the other. A connection immediately forms between Seo Joon and the rescued stranger, Yul, who convinces the former to put off his initial plans.

It's only the next morning that Seo Joon learns two things: Yul is a photographer working for the police, and the man they killed was completely certain Yul was a serial killer trying to claim him as the next victim.

CHARACTERS:

Kang Seo Joon: Lonely and alone, Seo Joon struggles to make a life for himself after succumbing into a deep depression. Drawing no satisfaction from his repetitive job, drowning in grief, and haunted by the perception that he is unlovable, he is close to surrendering to his dark thoughts when he meets Yul.

Choi Yul: A seasoned photographer with a murky past, Yul is a deeply caring man trying (and failing) to alienate himself from people in order to protect them. Afraid of losing his loved ones, he immortalizes them in photographs, to keep them alive and by his side forever.

Kim Jiwon: An ambitious police officer who refuses to take things at face value, Jiwon carries her own deep grief after losing a family member in an accident for which she blames herself. Now haunted by a strange phobia and overlooked by her peers, she is forced to choose between staying loyal to an old friend or helping a charming newcomer.

Lee Kibum: A kooky private investigator who shares a past with Yul, Kibum sticks out like a sore thumb and loves it. Never still and always cheerful, he hides a dangerous and obsessive persona behind silly pretenses and an overwhelming friendliness.

Yong Sanghyuk: A troubled, vengeful man still feeling his brother's loss even after decades. Driven only by grief and rage, he carelessly throws away his life in his pursuit for revenge, managing to come only seconds away from achieving his goal.

MORE INFO:

The Inspiration & Idea: Originally titled Focus, this story served as my final major project for my Bachelor's. Having fought to write this idea (which was called too ambitious and hard to write at the time), it was all I could think about for months, and championing it proved to be the best decision I could possibly make. Inspired - again - mainly by Taemin's work, the story kept evolving throughout the years, and I with it. I wanted to explore the idea of grief and how different people experience and live with it, as well as discussing odd and intricate bonds between people who, despite being alienated from the world, understand each other perfectly.

The Feedback: This is my most successful story to date, having won Blue Cat's Fellini Award in 2020 and Best Dialogue & Best Characters at the 2021 Plot Point Awards, as well as placing as a quarterfinalist in Final Draft's 2020 Big Break Contest and semifinalist in Screencraft's 2020 Drama Competition. I was also a semifinalist for the Academy Nicholl Fellowship in 2020, which is still quite surreal.

The Extended Universe: I wrote two companion pieces to this:

1. Snapshots, a mock-up of Yul's photo album from the film. The idea would be to scan codes on the back of the photos, which would take you to a diary entry, a video, or a letter exploring that certain period in Yul's life. It goes from his childhood all the way to the night he meets Seo Joon.

2. To My Star, a transmedia experience in the form of a love letter Seo Joon writes to Yul. This letter is narrated, recorded, and played over a video containing photographs and articles from the film, as well as accompanied by physical elements such as Yul's origami rose and some of his polaroids. This piece was shown during the Underdog Scriptwriting Festival in 2019.

Both these pieces correlate to earlier drafts of the story, so I'm not making them public as they're riddled with inconsistencies. 

The universe of Forget-Me-Not also expands into both Metanoia and Flat 27, the action taking place in the same small town (Plain River)

[prinzrupprecht]

To Live or Die

Chapter 4 - unexpected outcomes

If you’re new please read from the beginning! Click on synopsis and see all the chapters linked.

Synopsis

TW: violence and PTSD mentions

WC: 1056

You were angry at a few of the customers earlier which resulted in you leaving the shop to clear your head. You traveled down the pier towards the docks where many cargo ships were. It was a nice sunny day but there was something else that made you frown. You had told your uncle a few times that you were unhappy but not with him. You were constantly agitated and isolating yourself from people who came into the shop who knew your uncle.

One was a nice girl your age who you wanted to get to know, but something in you made you leave the shop due to some frequent reminders of your past. You can’t even socialize properly, and to make things worse you regret everything you wrote in the letter you sent. Souji didn’t even write back… did you upset him? You were itching on sending another but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. You were constantly putting yourself down and that you were better off alone.

You had long forgiven him even after he left. He had nothing to apologize for. He wanted to fight to protect his friends and beliefs. They needed him the most because of his swordsmanship. It was a miracle how some of them lived and escaped the war. You wondered how he got away with Kondo…

While still in a train of thought, as you trailed down the street minding your own business, you bumped into someone while you were on your way back to your uncle’s shop. “Huh, sorry—" you mumbled and tried to push past whoever you bumped into and carry on your walk, but they grabbed your arm to get a good look at you.

“Wait a minute���! I know you!” he spoke with a lot of disgust. Know you? People around you were scattering from the commotion this man was causing. It was frightening you and you wanted to get away from him.

“You’re the bitch that shot and killed my friend!” He wouldn’t let go of your arm and it was terrifying you to the point of panicking and screaming for help.

“Get off me! Le— Let go of me! I— I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The man was pulling you somewhere and you were certain he was going to kill you.

“Kishi-san, would you be kind enough to let go of my niece and we can talk somewhere else?” Your uncle saw the commotion which was a huge relief but the man still wouldn’t let go of your arm.

The man was fuming and yanked my body forward. “How about we talk right here, Arashi.” He called your uncle by his given name while pulling out a revolver and pointing it at him.

You were stunned why someone would be threatening both of your lives in the middle of the day. “No, please—" you squeezed your eyes shut but was interrupted by something hitting you across the side of your head. He smacked you down with the gun and a small amount of blood trickled down the side of your head. You gasped for air but was shaking from the trauma you had suffered in the past from ronin who acted like this.

Your uncle called out of your name but the man pointed the revolver at him to not move. “Maybe we should settle this right here and right now, don’t ya’ think?” You wanted to scream but nothing came out. You sat on the ground hoping someone would stop this criminal. People around you wouldn’t dare to intervene with this deranged man.

“If it’s money, Kishi—" your uncle was interrupted when the man was suddenly pushed down and you tumbled forward.

You had closed your eyes and heard a gunshot fire and people nearby were scattering away in a panic. There was rarely any police force down in Yokohama, it was part of the reason why crime was high where you were at. As terrified as you were and refusing to look to see if your uncle was dead, someone had touched your shoulder. “Kondo-san?!” Your uncle’s voice made you look up seeing Kondo smiling down at you.

The man who had attacked you earlier was already lying unconscious. “He— he’s not dead right?” You asked but you couldn’t help but wonder if Kondo was here then that would mean…

“No, I just knocked the gun away from his hand and Souji had knocked him out— oh where did he go?” Kondo looked around and noticed he had disappeared. “Maybe he went to notify the authorities.” Kondo looked at your uncle and asked if you both were okay. You were incredibly thankful he came or else you both would’ve been dead.

A frown tugged at your lips. So he did save your life. You could never repay him even if you wanted.

“Th— Thanks to you both…" you were embarrassed as you moved to stand beside your uncle. Souji was still nowhere in sight.

“I’m back, Kondo-san.” Your heart dropped when you heard his voice from behind. You could’ve sworn you were frozen in place and everything felt slow around you. He was standing near the two police officers who were arresting the unconscious man and taking him away. So he did leave to get the authorities… your heart must’ve been beating twice the normal rate. Were you even ready to talk to him in person? You could barely write letters.

He looked the same but instead of the usual purple kimono, he was wearing a red one this time and no haori. He still wore the checkered scarf you had gifted him a few years back. When his gaze met yours, you immediately turned away from the embarrassment. You couldn’t deny how cute he still looked. The only thing that bothered you was not knowing how to talk to him. Why did he have to come down here?

Your uncle suggested to return to his shop and catch up. “O–Oh right,” you mumbled but you could still feel his eyes on you when you look away. Was he shy to talk to you? You knew the walk back would be silent and awkward. He wanted to say something but you were the one acting aloof.

How would you possibly get over your fears and act normal again?

Proceed to the next part

➤ Chapter 5

Note: I sort of want to do AU text message stuff for the lolz…

[ianthedisastrous]

NAME: Ian Lightfoot

GODLY PARENT (IF APPLICABLE): Athena

AFFILIATION: (Alumni 2012 - current) Alumni chair since 2021

SPECIES: Demigod

ABILITIES: Minor Audiokinesis, weapon proficiency

WEAPONS/ITEMS: Throwing knives. He also has an ornate ivory and silver pen with a carved owl feather design that transforms into a sleek larger dagger if needed - a gift from his mother from a quest years ago.

BIOGRAPHY:

(CW: death, panic attacks)

Wilden Lightfoot was not expecting a goddess to show up at his doorstep one otherwise ordinary afternoon, nor did he expect the day to end with an infant in his arms, his eldest son staring wild-eyed at his new tiny brother. But Wilden believed in things most people thought too impossible to be true, believing his son was conceived from a conversation and born of the curiosity of a goddess was hardly outside the vast realms of possibility.

But magic was harder for Ian to see when his father became ill, when he wasn't even old enough to reach his hand to hold beside the hospital bed. It went away entirely when that bed became empty and the boys drifted back to their little Detroit apartment with nothing but each other.

It was enough, in some ways; eighteen was meant to see his brother off to college but Barley never complained about seeing Ian off to elementary school instead before his job, or spending his evenings inventing games for the two of them to bring back some of the magic their father used to see everywhere.

Ian spent plenty of afternoons patiently waiting for Barley to get home when work ran late, nestled in a corner of the couch with a book or listening to one of his father's recorded lectures from the classes he taught at the nearby college before he grew ill.

And then one day Ian came home to strange low, rumbling, animal sounds and never saw the creature that was waiting on him in the hallway but he felt it, right down to the jarring scramble, the overturned table and the sudden, blinding pain that left him dazed. Everything after was blurry; other sounds, other voices with his eyes squeezed shut, that throbbing ache in his skull, hands over his ears trying to shut it all out.

It felt like the end of the world.

Thankfully, it wasn't. But the monsters didn't disappear, there was just a different one waiting for him when he could finally pry his eyes open; a strange creature with horns who looked an awful lot like someone he'd always seen around his neighborhood, urging him to his feet, urging him to leave, speaking about gods and monsters and everything Ian wanted to push away.

He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, everything closed in around him.

When it all came back into focus he was alone in his bed, one eye still shut behind bandages and his jaw aching with to-be scars he would carry from that night, the hushed voice of his brother in the other room, a stranger's voice, talking about him, about leaving and how the things in the dark would never stop chasing him unless he did.

How they would come back, because of him.

Looking back Ian isn't sure what urged him to run, maybe he just couldn't trust the stranger, maybe he couldn't face anymore monsters or the idea of his brother being harmed. Something did, and he went, on his own, unprepared and frightened, but certain there was no way back to normal again.

Ian Lightfoot was not expecting to find his home in a camp full of demihumans and satyrs, nymphs and a host of other impossible creatures. Once, he would have thought the fear was impossible to escape.

But impossible never really was, not only because his godly mother’s open, curious mind is something he shares with her but because his father helped him believe it, the older brother he still visits helped him survive, and a lot of other people helped get him to that place after harrowing months alone on the streets because of his own foolish choice to refuse that first offer, too afraid to do anything but run.

But it is, and he's come to love it, to love the half siblings he meets each year as he remains, to take pride in his mother's name and the weight of it, and joy in Tony's music and laughter during campfire nights they entertain the youngest campers together with songs and stories.

He found shelter during a war he only fully understood after the dust had settled and purpose he grew into by being there, in guiding and helping the new kids, in calmly reminding the familiar faces not to test his mother's name *too* jokingly in his presence, and in just belonging.

The world outside moves onward, but Ian doesn't miss it much. In his books, in words, he finds his way back and forward in the same breath; his curiosity is never fully satisfied but it's tamed in quiet moments letting the pages teach him new things and revisiting the old.

With the reunion underway he's more resolved than ever to uphold his mother's name with pride, and eager to see old friends return with the stories of their lives out in the world, and new faces with new tales to learn.

[experthiese]

@akagamiko / kiss roulette

17. An upside-down "Spider-Man" kiss.

Contrary to what a lot of people may assume, there's a certain amount of method that goes into Lupin's madness. Planning is a thief's best friend, especially when said thief has a tendency to push his luck and attract unforeseen excitement, and an awful lot of that planning involves scouting out a variety of areas from a variety of angles.

What's the natural coverage like?

Where can he hide? Are there any useful (preferably uninhabited) buildings around?

If push comes to shove, how are the escape routes looking? What are his chances of getting away?

All standard procedure, questions he's answered a thousand times before and will surely answer a thousand times more, and yet today finds him especially distracted. This work is really more suited to Jigen, able to lay unmoving for hours and observe the target with his piercing marksman's gaze. Even Goemon would be a better substitute, his meditation seemingly making him immune to the trivial human emotions of boredom and restlessness and the need to shake off the pins and needles feeling in his leg.

But Lupin isn't Jigen, nor is he Goemon. He's Lupin, a bottomless well of chaotic energy incapable of listening to anything but his own momentary whims.

And so what began as an well-hidden seat in the shade of a tree turns into a not-so-well-hidden attempt at a casual lean against a building. That then turns into a seat on top of the building's roof, arms and legs wrapped tight around the chimney to keep himself from sliding off. That then turns into a careful creep around the roof's perimeter, arms outstretched like a tightrope walker. He's long since abandoned any pretense of scouting out the area, and is now just trying to entertain himself.

...Unfortunately, when a particular section of the gutter gives way beneath his feet and pitches him off-balance and off of the roof, his arms are too busy windmilling in surprise to be much help catching him. He panics, letting out a very undignified squawk as he does so, and kicks at what scant few inches of the roof are still within reach. The heel of his shoe locks into the gutter pipe in a moment of pure luck, and his fall towards the ground comes to an abrupt halt.

Lupin peels his fingers away from his eyes, and—oh. He's not alone. He's currently staring at the bottom half of someone's face, sunkissed skin that matches what their unbuttoned shirt's left exposed. It's a stark contrast to his own appearance, his tie still snug against his throat and his shirt leaving nothing but his hands on display, but he finds he doesn't mind all that much.

Opposites attract, right? And Lupin is very much attracted.

❝ You know, ❞ he says, leaning in closer, ❝ they say the best first impression is a memorable one. ❞

It's not the best angle, too awkward to get a good grip and press himself as close as he'd like, but the great Lupin III refuses to give anyone a bad kiss! He does the best with what he's given--perhaps dragging it on a little long, but he's always been of the view that you ca't have too much of a good thing--and pulls away with a quiet snicker.

❝ Do you agree? ❞

[lostelfwriting]

Chapter II – what lives at the end (of the world)

[Read on AO3]

So far, the Hanahaki Disease has not affected The Dreaming Studio, except for the flowers that kept sneaking into Dream’s thoughts. But that was bound to change, and Dream was not ready for it when he finally got a coughing fit at work. He was alone, luckily, but when he saw the three small orange petals on the floor, he kind of wished he wasn’t.

That is why he decided to tell his sister. Teleute, Death, is a doctor. He tries to convince himself that he is telling her because she will be most likely to know how to help him, but he knows deep down that he needs her emotional support more than any medication that she could get him. After he scoops the spit-wet petals off the floor with a paper tissue, he calls her, catching her in the middle of her shift.

“Dream!” she says excitedly into the phone. “So glad to hear from you at any other time than midnight!” For a second, she talks to someone else – a jumble of words that Dream barely understands – and then her attention returns to him. “What’s up?”

“I would like to speak to you in person,” he blurts out before he can be tempted to change his mind and keep his secret to himself. “As soon as possible.”

He must not sound like his usual, stone-cold self, because there is concern in Teleute’s words when she next speaks. “I could come by your studio on my lunch break,” she suggests.

“That would be great,” he says, trying to sound more like himself and failing. His sister’s sigh tells him everything, and he closes his eyes, scolding himself for worrying her. If she is worried now, how bad is it going to be when she learns what his issue is?

It can’t get much worse than this, so Dream decides to throw away his remaining inhibitions. “And sister…” He waits for a hum of acknowledgement. “Could you take a stethoscope with you?”

“Dream.” Now there is something bordering on panic in her voice. “Brother, what is going on?”

“It is nothing serious,” he lies. “I’m breathing, alright? Do you hear me breathe?” he tries to joke, but he knows that he will only worry her more. “I’ll see you on your lunch break, sister. I love you.” He hangs up before he can invent a way to make it even worse.

+*+*+

Well, that went horribly. Resting his face in one hand, Dream stares at the paper tissue in his other hand, not realising that he still had it. He knows that the disease is playing with his mind – making him keep the token of his forbidden love – and he squeezes the tissue tighter, so tight that his knuckles turn ghostly white. Then he carefully unfolds it, revealing three mangled orange petals. Still there.

“I hate you,” he says quietly to the petals. Nothing changes.

“I hate everything.” The flower doesn’t care.

With a sigh, Dream finally forces himself to throw the thing into the toilet and flush it. He has to be careful about this. If anyone saw him, they could report him. With a disease like this, he is a health and safety violation. He would lose his licence, and he can’t allow that. But Teleute won’t report him; she wouldn’t do that to him.

Dream orders food for him and his sister, since he is already stealing her lunch break. He only has one person walk in while he is waiting for the delivery, and they walk away with a contact card two minutes later. From experience, he can guess he won’t see this person again. They asked him about the least painful tattoo location, and those people usually back out – that is, if they even make a real appointment.

Teleute arrives five minutes before her lunch break even starts, and Dream sighs, but she is right on time for the food. He refuses to tell her what is going on before they eat, mainly for his own selfish comfort rather than for her. He is dreading the conversation that he is about to have. He has never eaten his food this slowly before, and he is quite certain that Teleute has never eaten hers this fast.

“Come on, Dream,” she says, pacing nervously. “Spit it out. What is happening? You don’t look sick. What is wrong?”

Reluctantly, Dream puts his half-eaten Thai aside. “I am sick, sister,” he says, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. “I was hoping that you could help.”

“Of course,” she smiles at him warmly, her posture relaxing as she assumes that it is not as bad as she feared, and Dream immediately regrets not being open with her and giving her a false sense of comfort. “Do you have a fever? Headaches?” she asks, walking over to her bag to take out not the stethoscope that he asked for but a thermometer.

“I do not have the ‘flu, sister!” Dream grumbles as he pushes the device away from his forehead, frowning. “Do not fuss over me, please.”

She squints at him, putting one hand on her hip. “You just said please! Are you dying?” she jokes.

Dream wishes he could lie in her face, tell her that there is hope, or literally anything but the silence that fills the room. If a tornado appeared in the street and shattered his front window, it would be a pleasant and welcome sound compared to this.

“Oh, God,” Teleute gasps quietly, the smile disappearing from her face. For a moment, Dream feels like they are children again, like something bad happened, and Death, the oldest of them – the oldest who was willing to play, that is – declares that the game is over. But it is Teleute standing before him, his successful sister who became a doctor, and not Death, his big sister who offers comfort. He wishes he could have both at the same time.

“It is…” He cannot get the words out, to his own frustration, and so he turns his gaze away from his sister’s paled face. “It is the Hanahaki Disease. I have had it for a few months now.”

“Dream.”

“I know,” he says. “I should close the studio, but I won’t, and I trust—” His speech is interrupted by the firmest, most desperate hug that he’s received in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Teleute asks, her words muffled by the skin of his neck as she tries to squeeze the life out of him sooner than the illness can do it.

Dream chuckles at his own stupidity. “I thought I was going to get a speech about my responsibility towards my customers,” he admits as he finally hugs her back.

Offended, Teleute pulls away to glare at him. “I don’t give a crap about them, Dream! You are in danger, little brother. Do whatever you want; just get— Get healthy for me, alright?” Her eyes are filled with tears now. Dream doesn’t know what reaction he expected anymore. He should have known it would be like this, yet he feels unprepared to say it.

“I will not get better, sister,” he says quietly.

“Is it Calliope?” she asks, ignoring his words. “She still loves you, Dream. Even Nada. Who is it? I’m sure it will—”

“It is a man, sister. A straight man. Whom I never dated, obviously.”

Teleute’s mouth snaps shut, and the studio is filled with silence once more. She collapses into her chair in defeat, and Dream can’t watch that without doing anything. Quietly, he walks over to her chair and crouches in front of her, taking her hands into his.

“My beloved sister,” he says. “Death of the Endless.” Her lips quirk up into a brief smile, even though she doesn’t like her old nickname anymore. “I apologise for burdening you with this knowledge, and,” he stops her before she can interrupt, “I apologise for not telling you sooner, too. This matter was hard for me to deal with, and I knew it would be even harder for you. But I am so glad that you know now, and I do not have to keep a secret from you. I am so glad you are here with me.” He squeezes her hands, and she squeezes back, smiling through tears. “Tell me how I can make it up to you, sister.”

“Live,” she says immediately, freeing her hands to cup his cheeks. “Live, little brother.”

“Sister,” he implores. He cannot grant her this wish.

Teleute takes a long, shaky breath and nods, wiping the tears off her face. Dream immediately misses having her warmth so close. “How— How bad is it?” she asks. “You wanted me to check you up, right?”

Dream watches as his older sister pushes all her emotions aside and leans over to her purse to take out a stethoscope. He nods at her silent question and takes off his shirt, ignoring the fact that anyone could walk by and see him. Most of his front window is covered in sketches, anyway, since he doesn’t want to look at the ugly yellow building opposite.

Teleute listens to his breathing for much longer than she needs to, with much more focus. Dream lets her, obeying her quiet instructions to take a deep breath, cough, and talk. He is a little curious about what she hears, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to hear it too. They say it is the most disconcerting sound that you can hear coming from a human body, worse than hearing the death rattle in a loved one.

“It is still in early stage,” she says when she is finally finished. “Does anything come up when you cough?”

“Small petals,” he admits. “They have been there for about a week. I know that I’m early stage. I was just hoping… I don’t know what I was hoping for.”

“I’m the only one you’ve told, aren’t I?” Teleute asks knowingly. Dream doesn’t need to answer that; she knows him too well. “Well, now you are not alone in this. Maybe you wanted that?”

When she smiles again, it is Death standing in front of Dream, who scraped his knee or hit his head on something, and she is ready to make it all better even though she is only a bit older. He leans into her, letting her hug him and kiss the top of his head, because that always used to help.

“We will figure this out, little brother. It is not lost. We’re in this together from now on, okay? Now tell me, who is it?”

Dream huffs, hating and loving that she is still hoping. “You must not tell him, Teleute,” he pleads. “It is not worth it.”

“You don’t know that,” she argues lightly, scratching his scalp as she pets his hair, which effectively kills his will to argue.

“Alright,” Dream sighs. “It is… Hob Gadling. The owner of The White Rose.”

“Oh dear.” Once more, his older sister pales in shock and realisation. Not only is Dream in love with a straight man, but he is in love with a man who hates him. Teleute doesn’t visit often, but even she had the displeasure of witnessing some of their petty or more serious fights. She even tried to mediate to calm the situation, but it was Hob who had no interest in mending the relationship. He had taken the remark about Dream buying his place very badly two years ago.

“This can’t be it,” Teleute refuses, shaking her head and pulling away to pace the studio. “You need to tell him! You can try!”

“No!”

It’s not just ethics. If Dream tells Hob and Hob turns him down, he will know. He will know for sure that his days are numbered. He only knows that in theory, but Hob never said he could never love Dream (because it would be ridiculous to come upon that topic in conversation), and Dream can cling to some kind of hope, at least subconsciously. Hearing Hob tell him that he is not interested in men, especially men like Dream, would be listening to his own death sentence. Why would he do that to himself?

“Dream, he has to—”

“I said no!” he repeats, more than annoyed. He stands up, towering over his sister slightly. “You are a doctor, Teleute. Would you say this to any of your patients? Would you tell them to tell the person who is killing them?”

She frowns, but she cannot say yes to that. Maybe in the past, people did that. But in the modern age, it is considered unethical and immoral to tell your person just for the sake of forcing them to try and fall in love with you. Not to mention that it is stupid – love cannot grow under such pressure, and having someone’s life in your hands is not easy.

“Let it go, sister,” he implores. “Do not do something that you would regret for the rest of your life, and do not burden Hob Gadling with the knowledge that he is… he is killing me.” His shoulders slump, all his energy depleted.

“He deserves it, though,” Teleute argues, but she doesn’t mean it. “He deserves to know what his hate is causing. He deserves to… to suffer. He can’t take you away from me, Dream.”

Dream is ready when his sister falls into his arms, holding her and giving her the comfort that she deserves and needs. “I’m here, sister,” he promises. “I’m still here.”

+*+*+*+*+

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye