#the mental image has been haunting me for WEEKS

[teatime-at-4]

precipice

[teallicht]

[lycancoffee]

crow and panther showtime i keep thinking about ft private eye and femme fatale

[daredevils-stuffed]

One Shot - Help a Girl Out

Matt is sick of hearing how you’ve been unable to cum. From men and on your own. So, he takes it into his own hands.

Relationship: Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: boss/ employee vibes kinda not really. There is an actual like story, not just smut. But, Smut. A little kinky if you squint. He counts your orgasms. Office sex.

•••

Authors note: Happy Daredevil: Born Again Eve to those who celebrate. Very excited for tomorrow.

•••

The first time Matt hears of your issues. It’s early on a Monday morning.

Matt first learned about your issue on his way into the office.

He doesn’t mean to listen—doesn’t want to listen—but the moment your voice filters through the air, he can’t stop himself.

You’re perched on the edge of Karen’s desk, your morning coffee barely making a dent in your exhaustion. It had been a long night, and Karen needs to hear all about it to make yourself feel better.

“So,” you sigh dramatically, “I don’t think he was confident enough to use anything other than his hands. It was like I was his guinea pig. Just kinda laying there pretending to moan, pretending to feel something.”

Karen pouts back at you, understanding your predicament like most women would. “Oof, that is bad. At what point did you call it?”

“When he kept trying to make eye contact with me…from down there, it gave off weird vibes. So, I just patted him on his head and got up.”

“You did not!”

You groan up at the ceiling, covering your face with your hands. “It gets worse…after he left, I tried to help myself -yah know. And nothing.”

“I think you might be cursed.” Karen has already given you all the advice she could. What helped for her, what didn’t, even which brands of lube that might help. But nothing. Literally nothing has helped.

“Yeah, no shit! I’m convinced I’ll never know how it feels to have my own mind blowing, out of this world, orga- “

You stop dead.

The weight of your stare pressing against him even though he can’t see it. He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses as he enters the room.

You quickly shoot a look to Karen who just smirks.

“Morning Matt” you both chime, dripping with innocence.

He grumbles a response not really stopping to interact with you. His mind running a mile a minute. Have you never had an orgasm? Maybe I could help?

Matt doesn’t know why that gets under his skin as much as it does. But it does.

He drops into his chair, flexing his hands at his sides. Your voice is still there, looping in his head, and it shouldn’t be this distracting.

I’m convinced I’ll never know how it feels…mind-blowing, out-of-this-world…

Christ.

He doesn’t need this. He’s had a hell of a week already—barely any sleep, too many cases piling up, and now? Now he’s going to spend the rest of the day haunted by the mental image of you—spread out, breathless, wanting.

Matt knew the dynamic between you went beyond friendly colleagues. There had always been something there, an unspoken tension simmering beneath every playful jab, every stolen glance. But he had never taken it seriously.

That changes now.

He moves before he can stop himself, heading to the office kitchen. Two cups of coffee—one for him, one for you. It’s a rare gesture, but he knows you’ll appreciate it.

“For you.” He grunts shoving a mug towards you. Your fingers brush his as you take it. Matt lingers for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes boring into yours intensely. The telepathic message he’s sending not quite reaching you.

Just when you think he is going to say something his lips smack closed and he’s walking away.

The words I can help lost in his throat. Matt scowls at himself for chickening out. He couldn’t embarrass you like that. It really is none of his business.

All you notice however, is how his fingers are flexing at his side, as if your quick brush has stung him. The gesture of coffee confuses you, but you’re too distracted by his hands. You picture what they can do for you, take you to an edge you’ve never experienced before.

“Well, I don’t get coffee like that” Karen snides from her side of the room. You flush and hide behind your stack of papers. You take a sip and hum. It’s just how you like it, Matt always knows how you like things.

Matt spends the rest of the morning trying—and failing—to focus.

The sound of the office hums around him, phones ringing, papers shuffling, the steady rhythm of keyboards clacking. But all he can hear is you. Your voice, looping in his head, the way you sighed when you talked about last night, the frustration laced in every word.

I’m convinced I’ll never know how it feels…

His fingers twitch against the edge of his desk. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t want to care.

But he does.

And that’s the problem.

By the time lunch rolls around, he needs space. Needs air. Needs to clear his head before he does something stupid.

Because the last thing he wants is to come off as some arrogant asshole who thinks he has all the answers. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s just like every other guy who assumes he knows what you need.

Even if, deep down, he’s pretty damn sure he does.

The thought twists in his gut as he heads back to the office, rehearsing ways to make a move that don’t end with him humiliating himself—or worse, pushing you away.

But the moment he steps inside, ready to test the waters, Foggy’s voice cuts through the air.

“…I know he knows what he’s doing.”

Matt stops. Freezes mid-step on the stairs.

He’s on about a blind date.

Someone else.

Someone else touching you. Someone else making you laugh, making you moan. Someone else failing you.

Whilst Matt was out Foggy took the opportunity to swoop in, grinning as he flops into the chair across from you. Getting you to spill all the details from last night.

You skim over the basics—the guy took you to a nice restaurant, knew how to flirt, wasn’t exactly your usual type but still tried. Foggy questioned if you managed to get off, which shocked you. You knew you hadn’t told him, which means Karen must have.

The snap of Matt’s jaw tightening echoes in his ears.

He doesn’t remember moving, doesn’t register the way his fingers crush the takeout bag in his grip, barely even feels the splintering pressure of his cane beneath his palm.

All he knows is that when he speaks, his voice is sharp enough to slice through the air.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, can you please leave our paralegal alone to get on with her work?”

Silence.

He’s standing in the doorway now, Foggy blinking at him in surprise, you stare at him like you’re trying to read him. Like you can feel the heat radiating off of him from across the room.

Matt clenches his jaw, forces himself to move, to breathe. Forces himself to walk away before he does something reckless.

It’s not my problem. It’s none of my damn business.

But the thought of anyone else fixing this for you—that is what has his stomach twisting. That is what has his grip tightening around his cane until he’s sure the wood is about to crack.

I know what I’m doing.

Your pulse, however, is unsteady as you turn back to your desk, your mind is spinning.

Matt never snaps like that—not over you.

And yet, the frustration in his voice, the heat behind it, the way he stormed off like Foggy had just personally offended him—

You swallow hard.

No. No, you must be imagining things. Reading too much into it.

But then some time later, as you return from the bathroom, you pause. Confusion flickers across your face as you spot something on your desk—a plate, half a sandwich, some chips.

You glance around, questioning, until Karen gives you a knowing smirk, tilting her head toward Matt’s office.

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t acknowledge what he’s done.

•••

It’s late. The office is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the low hum of Matt’s computer. Everyone has gone, leaving just the two of you in the dimly lit space. You’ve been pretending to focus on paperwork, but your mind has been elsewhere- on the weight of Matt’s presence, on the way he looks in the glow of his screen, his jaw tight with unspoken tension.

Matt, with headphones in, is distracted. He’s thinking about you, like he has been all day. Thinking about the way you might touch yourself when no one is watching. About how much he wants to be the one touching you instead.

The thought takes hold, creeping into his veins like wildfire. His hand drifts lower, pal, pressing over the hardness straining against his slacks. He exhales sharply, his mind flooding with images - your skirt bunched around your waist, your body arching against his, the breathless sound of your moans as he drives you over the edge. His fingers tighten. He’s losing himself in it, lost in the fantasy of you, of having you, of making you his.

He doesn’t hear you approach.

You stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the sight before you - Matt, head tilted back against his chair, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, his hand gripping himself through his trousers. A bead of sweat slides down his temple. Your name spills from his lips in a quiet, desperate murmur.

Heat coils in your stomach.

You should walk away. Pretend you never saw. But you don’t.

Instead, you step closer.

“Enjoying yourself, Mr Murdock?”

His body goes rid His body goes rigid. His eyes snap open, unfocused but sharp, as if he can feel your presence more than see it. His breath is unsteady, his arousal still evident, straining against the dark fabric of his slacks.

It takes him a moment to speak. "You’ve done this to me," he rasps, voice rough, edged with frustration. "Drove me to this. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day."

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. You take your time, stepping between his spread legs, savouring the way his breath hitches. You step closer, the air between you electric. His hands clench at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to pull you into his lap and grind against you until you’re just as desperate as he is.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confesses, voice tight with restraint. “Every look. Every word. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You hum, tilting your head as if considering his words. “And what exactly have I done, Mr. Murdock?”

His jaw tightens. He’s unraveling, restraint slipping through his fingers like sand. You see it in the way his breathing turns ragged, in the way his control—so carefully maintained—is fracturing before you.

“You already know,” he growls.

Your hands brush along the armrests of his chair, caging him in, your body close enough that he can feel your warmth. His fingers twitch, aching to touch.

“You’ve spent all day thinking about me?” you murmur. “Thinking about what you’d do if I let you?”

His control snaps.

One hand grips your waist, dragging you onto his lap in a fluid motion. His other hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head so your lips are a breath away from his.

“Say the word,” he rasps, mouth ghosting over your skin, teasing, tormenting. “Say the word, and I’ll show you exactly what I’ve been thinking about.”

Heat coils in your stomach. His fingers dig into your hips, firm and possessive, as if grounding himself.

“Then show me,” you whisper.

It’s all the permission he needs.

In a blur, your skirt is bunched around your waist, and his mouth is on you—hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing down your neck, each one laced with the promise of what’s to come. His hands roam your thighs, spreading you open, savouring every inch of exposed skin like it’s something sacred.

"You smell incredible," he murmurs against your lips, voice reverent, like he’s memorising every piece of you. His touch is maddening—just enough to make you shiver, but not enough to satisfy the ache burning between your legs.

He lowers himself to his knees pulling you to the edge of the desk. Bringing one of your legs over his shoulder, placing gentle kisses until he reaches your centre.

His breath hitches as he finally—finally—tastes you. A low groan vibrates through his chest as his tongue drags over you, slow and deliberate. You gasp, your fingers threading into his hair, anchoring him there.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against you, voice thick with reverence. “You taste even better than I could ever imagine.”

His tongue moves in long, languid strokes, teasing, savouring, drinking in every sound you make. His grip tightens when your hips jerk against his mouth, an unspoken command to stay still.

But he’s not done teasing you. Not yet.

“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” His voice is low, gravelly, sending shivers through you. “Going to do exactly what I say?”

You can barely form words, nodding, breathless.

“Good.”

And then he ruins you.

His tongue works you over with practiced precision—each flick, each stroke designed to drive you higher. Your body trembles, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as pleasure coils tighter, hotter.

“You like this, sweetheart?” he taunts, voice dark and full of promise. “Like knowing how fucking desperate I’ve been for you?”

You moan, back arching, legs trembling as you lose yourself in him. He keeps going—pushing you closer, dragging it out until the pleasure is unbearable. It’s almost a pain mixed with white hot pleasure. You beg for more. For it not to stop. It can’t stop. You grip Matts hair to be sure it doesn’t. He sucks on a spot that makes you want to scream. Or maybe you are. It’s all too much and you need it. And then you reach a point where it is too much, and your eyes squeeze close and your thighs shake.

And then—release.

You shatter, thighs tightening around his head, a strangled cry escaping your lips. He groans against you, lapping up every last tremor, drawing out every aftershock until your entire body is shaking.

And still—he’s not finished.

Before you can catch your breath, he’s pulling you into his lap, large hands tracing slow, grounding patterns along your abdomen. The fabric of his slacks is rough against your oversensitive skin, the hard press of him impossible to ignore.

"That’s one," he murmurs, lips brushing against your temple.

You barely register the words before his fingers are sliding back between your legs—tracing, teasing, pushing inside you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your body jolts, oversensitive, but Matt doesn’t stop.

“We’re not done yet, darling.”

You grind against him instinctively, chasing friction, chasing him. His head tips back, jaw clenched, as you roll your hips over him.

"Fuck," he grits out, hands gripping you tighter. "You're going to kill me."

His fingers curl inside you, stroking that perfect spot with devastating accuracy. His breath is hot against your ear, murmuring filth that makes your toes curl, your body tightening once again.

It doesn’t take long until your second orgasm hits like a freight train. "That’s two."

And then he’s standing, lifting you like you weigh nothing, and bending you over the desk.

Your cheek presses against the cool wood, the contrast to his burning heat making you shudder. Light brushes against your shoulder blades as he moves your hair aside, placing slow, reverent kisses down the curve of your neck.

"You have no idea how perfect you are like this," he groans, his hands steadying you, grounding you. "Falling apart for me. Letting me take what I want. You deserve to feel it all."

Your mind is blank—no, not blank, just utterly consumed by him.

"You still with me, sweetheart?" His touch is slow as it glides down your spine, teasing, taunting.

You barely manage a nod.

He chuckles darkly. “Think you can take one more?”

A whimper is all you can offer.

"That's what I thought."

And then he’s inside you.

The stretch is exquisite, overwhelming, a perfect contradiction of pleasure and desperation. He gives you a moment to adjust—to feel every inch of him, to let the sensation take you over.

And then he moves.

Deep, unrelenting strokes, each one angled to wring more from you, to keep you right on that edge where pleasure and pain blur into something devastating.

"So tight," he groans. "So fucking perfect for me."

He fists a hand in your hair and pulls you up, your back flush against his chest. The movement is purposeful—possessive. His free hand finds your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, feeling the way you gasp for him.

You’re babbling, incoherent, barely able to hold yourself together. And Matt loves it.

His rhythm falters, hips stuttering as the pleasure consumes him. "Fuck," he hisses, his grip on you tightening. "You’re going to make me—"

Your body clenches around him, and that’s all it takes.

He groans your name into your neck, the sound raw and wrecked as he tumbles over the edge, heat spilling inside you. His hold on you tightens as he rides it out, dragging you with him, until the only sound in the room is your ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of your hearts.

And still, he doesn’t let you go.

His arms stay wrapped around you, holding you firm against him, his breath still ragged against your ear. His hands, once gripping with desperation, now trace slow, grounding circles over your skin. Neither of you speaks for a moment—just the sound of your heartbeats, the slow rise and fall of your chests in sync.

Then, finally, Matt exhales, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder. His fingers slide down to your waist, squeezing gently, almost reassuringly.

“You okay?” His voice is lower now, softer, a stark contrast to how he had just wrecked you.

You hum, too blissed out to form words. He chuckles, the sound warm and satisfied, and the vibration of it sends a pleasant aftershock through you.

For a while, you just stay like that, his body still pressed against yours, neither of you willing to move just yet. He runs a hand up your spine, then down again, like he’s memorising every dip, every curve, every shiver you give him.

Finally, reluctantly, he pulls back just enough to let you turn in his arms. His face is unreadable, but there’s something intense lingering behind his expression. Something possessive, something tender.

His fingers ghost along your jaw, tilting your chin up. He studies you, like he’s committing this exact moment to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs.

You blink up at him, dazed, still trying to process everything. A small, breathless laugh escapes you, and he grins, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

A beat of silence stretches between you. The weight of everything settles in the air—what just happened, what it means, where it leaves you both.

And then, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“So…” he murmurs, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. “Still convinced you’ll never know what a mind-blowing orgasm feels like?”

Heat floods your cheeks, and you swat weakly at his chest. “Shut up, Murdock.”

He laughs, catching your wrist, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “Just making sure you’re keeping count,” he teases. His lips trail down, ghosting along your collarbone, dangerously close to starting something all over again.

You arch a brow at him, trying to feign exasperation, but you already know the truth.

You’ll never be able to get enough of him. From the look in his eyes, he feels the same. And that? That might just be the most dangerous thing of all.

[castellanapologist]

“Bless me Father for I have sinned.”

Luke sat up a little straighter on his side of the confessional, ears perking up at the voice. He recognized it, for it haunted his every waking moment and every dream. The girl who had been sitting in the front pews every Sunday for the last two months. Y/N. He cleared his throat.

“How long has it been since your last confession, my child?” He asks, fingers rubbing at his rosary.

“It has been quite a while Father, I haven’t been in two months. I’ve been so ashamed.” Y/N answers. Luke feels his chest tighten and his eyes strained to see her through the panelling. To no avail, but he pictured her beautiful face distorted in sadness.

“It’s quite alright my child, all that matters is that you’re here now” He soothes. “What sins have you come to confess?”

There’s a beat of silence before she intakes a breath and begins. “I…I have been lustful Father. Having sinful thoughts of a man I cannot have.”

Luke feels the air knock out of him. Lust? A man she cannot have? He felt a heavy jealousy weigh on his heart, but he swallows it down in favor of answering her.

“We all lust for things we cannot have sometimes. It is a sinner's nature.” He pauses before pressing further. “Is this man married?”

This time the silence stretches, and he feels himself getting antsy. His mind floods with possibilities of who it could be. He had seen her talking with couples after Mass before, could it be any of them? He wracks his brain for any man he’s seen her be alone with but comes up empty.

“Not in the traditional sense Father. He…he is married to the church.” She whispers. Luke stills, mind racing with her confession. He speaks slowly as if not to scare her off.

“As in…a priest?”

The air is thick with tension as he awaits her answer. He feels his heart thumping wildly against his chest as his fingers work his rosary over and over. Y/N sniffles before she speaks again.

“Yes. The new priest that’s recently come to our church. I didn’t mean for it to happen, Father!”

Luke feels himself shudder at the revelation that his waking torment has also been haunted by him. The confessional booth suddenly feels too small and cramped.

“What sinful thoughts have you been having of him?” He asks, his voice hoarse. Another beat of silence passes before Y/N continues.

“I’ve dreamt of him k…kissing me” She stutters before continuing. “Of his hands roaming my body and even…” She trails off. Luke inhales deeply.

“Continue.” He demands, voice rough with desire. “Confess your sins.”

“I want him to bend me over the altar” Y/N breathes. “I’ve dreamt of it for so long, even during Mass all I think about is him taking me. I even make sure he’s the one to feed me the body of Christ just to feel his fingers on my tongue.”

Luke feels his dick jump in his pants and he barely surpesses a groan. The rosary shakes in his hand as he processes what she says, the mental images burning in his brain. She describes exactly what he had been dreaming. How he would press the communion onto her tongue with a bit more force just to feel her. Luke takes a shuddering breath as he speaks again.

“It’s alright my child. Lust consumes us all. You just need to fight against it. Pray twenty Hail Marys and Our Fathers then the rosary every night for a week. Do you understand?” Luke’s voice is low, his eyes fixated on her silhouette. He sees her nod before speaking up.

“Yes Father.”

“Go in Peace.”

“Thanks be to God”

As soon as she exits the confessional booth he drops his head into his hands. His length twitches in the confines of his slacks, precum leaking onto his thigh. He tries to breathe deep but only conjures up images of fucking into that temptress in front of the whole church. Fuck. He was so fucked.

Over the next week, he watches as Y/N comes in to pray. He feels like an animal stalking his prey yet simultaneously the prey being stalked. He tries not to notice her heated gaze while he walks around the church. If he ignores this temptation and prays hard enough he knows he can get past it. But a small dark part of him knows he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to move past it. He wants to take her, ravage her. Wants to hear her scream his name while he eats her out in the pews or on the altar.

Sunday is agonizing. Father Michael wanted him to lead service ‘as a way to connect with the youth’. Which meant he was front and center for communion. Luke tried to avoid Y/N’s gaze, seeing her beeline to his line made his dick jump. She kept her head down until she was in front of him. Like usual, she opened her mouth for the body. He thanked the Lord his robes concealed his erection, twitching pitifully as he pressed the cracker on her tongue. Her saliva coated his fingers and just as he was about to withdraw, her lips closed around them. His breath caught as she slowly pulled away, lipstick staining his skin. He thanked God again she was the last in line.

For the rest of Mass, his head swam with desire and shame. What kind of priest was he to be leaking precum while leading his church in prayer? To fist his cock every night thinking of a member from his congregation? He had to put a stop to this. After Mass, he thanked every member individually for coming. As usual, Y/N was the last to leave. When she made her way to him, his dick jolted. The lipstick stain burned his fingers as she glanced down at it.

“Thank you for coming,” Luke said, his voice hoarse. He tried to think of a way to get her in his office. “Did you enjoy the service?”

“Very much so” She breathes. Their eye contact seems to stretch on for hours, the world melting away. He coughs, turning his head away as he felt shame flush his neck.

“Would-” He coughs again to clear his throat. “Would you have spare time for a prayer?”

She studies him for a moment before nodding, dropping her eyes to the floor. “I’m all yours Father.” He swears she purrs his title. Nodding, he leads the way to his office. Like always, he does the sign of the cross at the crucifix on his door, watching Y/N do the same. She sits in the plush chair across from his, the leather squeaking from disuse. Luke takes a deep breath, her perfume invading every sense and making him dizzy.

“Wait here.” He croaks before stepping into the side room he uses for his robes. He quickly sheds the garment, hanging it on the rack. The mirror seems to mock him. There he stood, curls messy and cheeks flushed like some hormonal high school boy. He curses himself, knowing the lust is merely a test. Fixing his clerical collar, he swings open the door to greet her again.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” He says. “I’ve seen you in the church more often. I thought you might want some guidance in prayer.”

Her eyes flicker with slight embarrassment before nodding. “Yes. Any prayer with you is surely to help me on my journey.”

Luke can’t help but feel his ego swell as he sits in his desk chair. His fingers drum on the mahogany as he studies her. He knows what she desires, the sins she wants to commit. But how does he help her resist when he barely can?

“What do you need me to help with? What weighs so heavy on your soul?”

Y/N meets his gaze again, this time smoldering. Luke feels his throat close at the sight.

“Lust, Father.”

It feels like all the air is sucked out of the room when she says, no, purrs those two words. He takes a big inhale, his fingers stopping.

“Right.” Luke croaks. “It’s a normal sin to have.”

“Do you struggle with it Father?”

His cock lurches against his slacks. Nodding slowly, he speaks.

“Yes.”

His confession hangs in the air. The tension palpable in the room. After discreetly adjusting himself, he stands and rounds the desk to stand in front of her. She gazes up at him, eyes swimming with desire. His hand finds purchase on her shoulder, thumb rubbing in a circle.

“The Lord forgives all.” He breathes. To her or himself he does not know. Sliding his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, thumb still caressing her skin. She turns into his palm, kissing it softly while maintaining her eye contact. His control snaps. Surging down, he captures her lips in a bruising kiss. She wraps her arms around him, moaning into his mouth. Their mouths move passionately, deepening by the second. Luke’s hands hoist her onto his desk, scattering his sermons onto the ground.

Her tongue swipes along his lips and he eagerly parted for her. She licks into his mouth greedily as he lays her fully down on the desk. His hands explore her body with reverence, hiking up her dress to expose her creamy thighs. Luke barely can bring himself to pull away but does so anyway, wanting to watch her fall apart. His fingers press against her clit through her panties, watching her eyes roll back and her back arch.

Hooking his fingers against the band of her underwear he yanks them down, desperate to feel her wetness against his palm. He groans feeling her heat, slick coating his fingers just from skimming over her slit. Y/N moans, hips bucking to get more friction. Luke tsks and holds her down.

“Greed is a sin” Luke scolds, his thumb pressing against her throbbing clit. Y/N lets out a choked moan, hands wrapping around his wrist. “You’ll take what I give you.”

With no hesitation, he slips his middle finger into her wet heat growling as he feels her tightness. His hips grind against his desk as he fingers her. One finger turns into two as he leans down to mark her neck. Y/N clamps around him, moaning louder as his teeth sunk into her. Lukes hips stutter as he imagines her around his cock. Unable to take it anymore, he hastily unbuckles his slacks while he fingers her. Panting with relief as his dick springs free.

He adds a third finger, grinding his cock on her thigh. Y/N squirms under his hold, moaning as she gets closer to cumming. His other hand comes to rub at her clit, desperate to see her finish. It only takes a few tight circles before she seized up, pussy clamping down on his fingers as she gushed. He moans watching her soak his hand, rubbing her through her orgasm. Even as it gets too much for her he can’t stop, dragging her hips to the edge of the desk as he drops to his knees. His tongue licks up her arousal, mouth worshipping her as if she herself were God.

Y/N tries to push him away; overstimulated but he doesn’t allow it. His hands hold down her bucking hips, nose rubbing against her clit as he tongue-fucks her hole. He needs to make her cum again. More than he needs to breathe. He doubles down when her thighs squeeze around his head. Y/N’s hand tug at his curls, moaning his name so loud he's almost scared someone will hear. But he doesn’t want to shut her up; her voice rivaling an angels. Finally, finally she cums again, soaking his face. He moans against her, licking up her slick again before pulling away.

Standing, Luke's chest heaves as he stares down at her. She looked like an angel, face glowing as she gasped for breath. His hands wrap around his cock as he jerks himself off to how beautiful she looked. Even as she desperately tries to breathe, her legs spread for her priest. Luke groans deeply, stepping closer to coat his tip in her wetness. Eyes rolling back as he bumps against her clit.

“Fuck me Father Luke. Make a sinner holy” Y/N moans, reaching for him. He leans down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, letting her taste herself. His mind swims in conflict, but as Y/N guides his tip to press against her hole, it goes blank. Luke moans against her mouth as he slowly pushes in. He almost collapses on top of her as her tight heat envelops him. He braces himself on his elbows as he finally hits halfway. Y/N moans as her legs lock around him.

Slowly, so slowly, he bottoms out. Grinding his pelvic bone against her clit, he wills his orgasm back. He can’t let it end here. Pulling back, he pants as she yanks at his hair before he slams back in. His hips set a brutal pace, her wetness making lewd noises as he fucks her. He feels addicted, feeling like he’ll die if he ever stops fucking her. Y/N clenches around him and his hips stutter.

“Such a fucking temptress. Seducing your priest. Telling me how badly you wanted to be fucked at the altar, sucking my fucking fingers in Mass” Luke growls against her mouth as he fucks her harder. Y/N scratches at the back of his shirt, practically tearing through it. He watches as her eyes roll back in revelation she had confessed to him.

“It was you-?” Shes cut off by a moan as he fucks deeper into her. He huffed a laugh, twitching inside her.

“Thank God it was. Been dreaming of this cunt for months” He groans, hiking her leg up to get deeper. His pace gets impossibly faster, chasing his high. His hand reaches in between them to rub her clit, needing to see her fall apart one last time. Y/N convulses on his cock, milking him as she cums for the last time. Luke's hips stutter as he feels release wash over him, slamming into her one last time to cum as deep as he could. He collapses on top of her, both of them struggling for breath.

“I’m guessing this warrants some prayer” Y/N teases. Luke huffs a laugh, squeezing her hips.

“Come by again tomorrow, we can pray together”

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Accidentally had the mental image of jarthur get along shirt and how silly and pointless that would be several weeks ago and it has been haunting me ever since. Any shirt is a get along shirt when you share a body with the person you're not good at getting along with

ft handcuffs 'cus that would actually effect them in any way + John in the shirt just because I thought he'd look funny in a t-shirt

[ravennaortiz]

Happy for 2 and 13. Angst turned fluff. Our Killa doesn't always realize he deserves good things too.

P.S. If you get sick of my asks feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just adore your works and have a serious thing for Happy (and Chibs and Tig, but mostly Hap 😋)

You are speaking the truth! He does not at all and we will fix that one story at a time!

The way I busted out laughing at the P.S section! Mam you can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never get tired of tired of your asks! I will write you Happy stories until my fingers bleed and my eyes blur from staring at the screen! So send them in as you think of them!

Now back to your order. Looks like you want a Happy Meal with Angst and a side of fluff. With the prompts 2: I'm not the right man for you and 13: I promise. *Excellent Choice*

Over?

Happy had been dreading this conversation all week. Being on a week long run had given him the excuse he needed to put distance between the two of you. Allowed him to rebuild those walls he had been letting your chip away at the last few months. Tonight he was going to destroy the relationship you two had in order to keep you from meeting an early grave.

His lifestyle and past were too dangerous. Demons chased him and he couldn't think of you getting caught by one. His sins were not yours to atone for. The club shit lately was getting darker and darker. The last straw for him was what happened to Tara a couple of weeks ago. He had been haunted by the image of it being you. You in a pool of cold blood with eyes glassy and fixed on nothing. The sound of Juice's voice pulled him from his well of sorrows.

"Hap! Your girls here" called Juice as he saw you walk in. Happy had asked him to keep an eye out for you so that he could do this quick before you got to far into the clubhouse. The smile and wave you shot him was like a punch to the gut as he slammed his beer down and made his way too you. Grabbing your arm roughly he pulled you out the door behind him making you stumble as you tried to keep up.

"Happy? Whats wrong?" you questioned worry obvious in your expression as he turned to you. Happy had to ground himself as his resolve weakened at the concern in your voice. Giving himself a shake mentally he reminded himself this was what was best for you.

"We are over and you're not welcome here anymore" stated Happy firmly his face expressionless. "What? Why?" you struggled to get out as tears spilled down your cheeks. Happy shut his eyes and his voice shook slightly as he spoke again. "I'm not the right man for you. Life I lead isn't built for you and I don't deserve the sunshine that is you. So were done. Leave" replied Happy trying to be harsh at the end.

You were silent for a couple of minutes as you considered how wrong the stoic man in front of you was. Happy readied himself for the swift sting of a slap as he felt your arm move under his loose grip. The softness of your skin as you caressed his cheek had him opening his eyes. "Here I thought you were one of those smart bikers" you murmured as his eyes met yours. "Didn't even check me for a weapon before trying to break my heart" you chided giving him a soft smile.

"I can protect myself" he grunted as he grabbed your hand that was on his cheek. "Please go" he added quietly. "No. I don't accept your break up Happy. You're scared. Shit has been crazy I get it but that doesn't mean you get to push me away. " you stated defiantly eyes ablaze with passion as you spoke.

"I promise you Happy, you are the right man for me. " you added before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose. "I love you. You're perfect in my eyes and need to stop being so damn hard on yourself. Just because you do....questionable things doesn't mean you don't deserve sunshine, rainbows and nose kisses" you soothed as you pulled him into a hug.

Happy sighed as he let you wrap yourself around him. "Guess I'm stuck with you" he rasped knowing you had won. "I can't wait to tell your momma how you tried to dump me when we go over to her house for dinner tomorrow night." you chuckled into his chest. "I'll have to check her for a weapon first" laughed Happy. His momma didn't play when it came to you.

Want more Happy? Click here

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[svn-bangtan]

Seven (Clean version?)

»pairing: Idol!Jungkook x reader

»genre: BTS | 13+ | Fluff

»wc/date: 3.1k | July 2023

» warnings: Based on Seven music video? Mentions of smut? Jungkook being Jungkook.

»Summary: After ending her 7 year relationship Y/n shares that her breakup with Jungkook was partially due to his unrealistic desire for sex seven days a week. If that wasn’t enough, Y/n seemingly keeps seeing Jungkook everywhere. Just know a lot has happened in the seven days they have been apart

» notes: I was thinking about making an explicit version of this, but haven’t decided if I should, so you all should let me know.

»  m.list | Taglist | Thoughts? Comments? Concerns

Seoul's bustling city lights painted a vivid canvas as Y/n and Jimin sat in a secret and quiet area of their favorite restaurant, savoring the delectable flavors of their homeland. The aroma of sizzling Korean delicacies filled the air, adding to the festive atmosphere of the lively eatery.

Jimin couldn't resist his playful nature, and as he took a sip of his tea, he asked with a mischievous grin, "Okay, so let me get this straight, you broke up last week with Jungkook because he wants to fuck you right seven days a week?" His laughter was infectious, causing Y/n to sigh in defeat.

"Seriously, Jimin? Is that all you think about?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, unable to hold back a smile. "Yes, that's one of the reasons, but it's not the only one. Our physical relationship became overwhelming, and I didn't expect that to be such a challenge in our relationship."

Jimin couldn't stop laughing, imagining poor Jungkook keeping track of his seven-day schedule. "I can't even imagine! How does he have that much energy? Is he secretly training for the Olympics?"

Y/n chuckled, playing along with Jimin's comedic flair. "You should know, you used to live with him! Maybe he's been doing some intense stamina training behind my back."

Jimin laughed heartily, "Oh, Y/n, you always have the most interesting stories. Who would've thought that 'too much love' could be an issue?"

"Do you think I'm being silly?" Y/n asked, her tone more serious.

Jimin reached out and patted his friend's hand reassuringly. "Not at all! Relationships are complicated, and each one is unique. What matters is how you feel and what you need. Relationships should have a healthy balance of emotional and physical connection. Maybe he didn't fully understand how exhausting it was for you."

"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, hoping for some insight from his ever-entertaining friend.

Jimin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you know how guys can sometimes get carried away by their 'manly urges.' Perhaps he thought he was auditioning for a K-drama series titled 'Seven Nights of Passion.'"

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at the mental image. "Okay, that's enough pun-ishment for me."

Jimin grinned. "Deal! But in all seriousness, communication is key. Have an open and honest conversation with him about how you feel. If he truly cares about you, he'll understand and find a way to meet you halfway."

Y/n nodded, feeling grateful for his friend's support. "You're right, Jimin. It's time for a serious heart-to-heart. No puns, no innuendos, just a genuine conversation about our needs and expectations."

Jimin raised an eyebrow playfully. "Wait, no puns? Are you sure you're not pun-ishing me too harshly?"

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. "Okay, just one pun. But only if you promise to be serious when I need it."

With a grin, Jimin encouraged Y/n to continue, "Anyways, tell me more, spill the spicy details!"

"Well," Y/n began, "ever since we decided to take a break, I swear I've been seeing Jungkook everywhere. It's like he's haunting me or something."

Jimin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Everywhere? Like how?"

Y/n nodded, looking a bit flustered. "Well..."

-

Y/n sat on the train, her earphones on, listening to her favorite K-pop playlist. The rhythmic beats tried to drown out her thoughts, but memories of Jungkook kept resurfacing. She leaned her head against the window, feeling a mix of emotions from nostalgia to frustration.

As the train pulled to a stop at a station, Y/n glanced up from her reverie and caught a glimpse of something that made her heart skip a beat. There, just outside the window, hanging onto the train was Jungkook, his signature smile plastered on his face. He waved enthusiastically, trying to get her attention.

Y/n blinked, thinking she must be imagining things again. "No way," she mumbled to herself, her eyes widening as she looked again. "This can't be real."

But there he was, unmistakably Jungkook, waving like a happy kid. A shiver ran down Y/n's spine, and she decided to pull out her earphones to make sure she wasn't hearing things too.

The music stopped, and the train's ambient noises filled the void. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at Jungkook outside the train. "What on earth is going on?" she whispered, her mind racing with disbelief.

She leaned back in her seat, trying to gather her thoughts, hoping that this was all a bizarre coincidence. "Okay, breathe, Y/n. It's probably just someone who looks like him," she said, attempting to reassure herself.

Summoning the courage to face the possibility, Y/n looked up once more, and her jaw dropped. Jungkook was still there, hanging on the outside of the train, waving even more enthusiastically now.

"Y/n, are you alright?" a concerned voice asked from the seat next to her.

She turned to find an elderly woman looking at her with worry in her eyes. "I, uh, I think I just saw someone I know outside the train," Y/n stammered, trying to make sense of it all.

The woman chuckled kindly. "Oh, dear. Must be your mind playing tricks on you. Don't worry too much about it."

Nodding, Y/n closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. "You're right. Maybe I need some sleep or something."

When she opened her eyes again and looked outside, Jungkook was gone. The train had already left the station, and there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked again, genuine concern in her voice.

Y/n managed a weak smile. "I think I will be. Thank you for checking on me."

-

Jimin chuckled, "That's your mind playing tricks on you, Y/n. It's common after a breakup to see the person you were with in random places."

"It sounds ridiculous, I know!" Y/n chuckled, "But wait, there's more. Another time, when I was walking home in the afternoon, I swear I saw him lying lifeless in the middle of the street. But when the paramedics came, he suddenly got up and chased after me with flowers!"

Jimin couldn't contain his laughter, "This is better than a K-drama! You should write a romantic comedy based on your experiences! Or, you know, since Jungkook is part of the biggest group in the world, not to brag, this could make a very good music video."

Y/n chuckled, "You got jokes Jimin, I know it sounds crazy! But wait, there's more. One stormy night, I was walking home, and he was once again following me, and as the wind picked up, he flew away!"

Jimin's eyes widened with amusement, "Y/n, you've got quite the imagination! Flying ex-boyfriends are a new one for me!"

"And it doesn't end there, I also dreamt of going to his funeral," Y/n continued, "and he wasn't even dead! He used it as an opportunity to finally talk to me. Can you believe it?"

Jimin burst into laughter again, "You are one crazy dreamer, my friend!"

Y/n couldn't help but laugh along with Jimin. "I know, it's ridiculous! I must be losing my mind."

Jimin placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "You're not losing your mind, Y/n. Breakups can mess with your emotions and make you see things differently. But you know what? Maybe all these wild experiences are just a way for your subconscious to process the breakup and your feelings for Jungkook."

"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, feeling a bit more reassured.

"Absolutely!" Jimin exclaimed. "But remember, you need to talk to Jungkook honestly about how you feel. Maybe he's been trying to reach out to you and make things right."

Y/n nodded, "You're right, Jimin. I can't keep avoiding him forever. We need to have a sit-down conversation."

Jimin smiled, "That's the spirit! You've got this, Y/n. And no more flying ex-boyfriends, okay?"

Y/n laughed, "Deal! No more wild imaginings. Just a simple, honest conversation."

-

Its Wednesday, and like always the laundromat was bustling with customers, and Y/n found herself in the midst of the chaos, trying to navigate her way through the maze of washing machines. Clutching her laundry basket, she sighed, wondering if she would ever get her laundry done in peace.

Little did she know that lurking behind her, sitting nonchalantly on top of some washing machines, was none other than Jungkook, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He watched her intently, ready to seize any opportunity to talk to her.

As Y/n moved to the next row of washing machines, Jungkook stealthily followed, trying to get her attention. "Y/n, please, just talk to me! You love when I jump right in, I'm offering all of me and I can show you what devotion is, " he implored with puppy dog eyes.

Ignoring him, Y/n pretended not to notice and continued sorting her laundry. She hoped that he would get the message and leave her alone, but Jungkook seemed persistent.

"You wrap around me and you give me life" he insisted, stepping closer to her, "And that's why night after night, I'll be fucking' you right!"

Y/n's patience was wearing thin, and the laundromat's chaos was only adding to her stress. She tried to maintain her cool, but Jungkook's continuous pestering was getting under her skin.

As they stood across from each other, the unthinkable happened – the laundromat started to flood! At first, Y/n didn't pay much attention to it, thinking it was just a minor issue with the machines. But as the water reached ankle-deep, she realized something was seriously wrong.

"Oh great, just what I needed," Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

But Jungkook continued to love-bomb her, completely oblivious to the fact that they were now standing in knee-deep water. "We can have the most amazing time together!"

The situation was becoming absurd, and Y/n couldn't believe Jungkook's persistence. As they continued to stand across from each other, the water in the laundromat started to rise steadily.

"I can leave you with an afterglow if you just let me." Jungkook pleaded, seemingly oblivious to the rising water.

"Do you not see what's happening?" Y/n exclaimed, gesturing to the water around them. "The place is flooding, and all you can think about is getting back together?"

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I got carried away with my feelings."

"Do you always have to make everything about you?" Y/n snapped, frustration boiling over. "I need space to think, and you're not making it easy."

As the water reached their knees, Jungkook's determination didn't waver. "I'll do anything to make you happy, Y/n. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

"Do you really think you can fix everything with just words?" Y/n said, shaking her head. "Actions speak louder, you know."

The water continued to rise, reaching their chests now. Y/n couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. "This is insane. I can't believe I'm standing here, having this conversation with you while we're both drenched!"

Jungkook seemed undeterred by the flood, still trying to get closer to Y/n. "I love you, Y/n, and I'll do anything to prove it."

"Do you even hear yourself?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This is not romantic; it's just ridiculous."

As the water continued to rise, Y/n decided she'd had enough. Without any warning, she took a deep breath and dived underwater, trying to escape Jungkook's relentless pursuit. To her surprise, Jungkook followed suit, diving after her like a determined swimmer.

Y/n emerged from underneath the water of the flooded laundromat, gasping for breath as she coughed up water. She looked around, expecting to see Jungkook still pursuing her with that playful grin on his face, but to her surprise, there was no trace of him anywhere.

"Did he finally give up?" she wondered aloud, scanning the area. The water had risen considerably, and the laundromat was now a watery mess. Customers were evacuating, and staff members were rushing to address the flooding.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Y/n decided it was time to leave. She waded through the water, heading towards the exit. As she stepped out onto the street, she glanced back at the laundromat one last time, half-expecting Jungkook to pop out from behind a machine or splash around in the water.

But there was still no sign of him.

"What is going on?" She asks herself. Shrugging off her doubts, Y/n decided to focus on more pressing matters – like finding a dry place to change out of her soaking-wet clothes

-

As the rain poured down on the darkened streets, Y/n walked with a heavy heart, her clothes drenched from the unexpected downpour. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and amusement at the reason behind her breakup with Jungkook. Who would've thought that their love would be tested by something as absurd as seven-day-a-week intimacy?

As she trudged along, she heard faint footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she half-expected to see Jungkook standing there, his smile cheeky as ever. But the street was empty, and she sighed, "Great, now I'm even imagining Jungkook in the rain. I'm officially losing it."

But the footsteps persisted, and to her utter surprise, when she turned back around, there he was – Jungkook, looking as soaked and bedraggled as she felt. He was panting slightly from running to catch up with her.

"Y/n!" Jungkook exclaimed between breaths, "I knew I'd find you. I can't let you walk home alone in this rain."

She blinked in disbelief, unsure if she was hallucinating or not. "You followed me in the rain to apologize for the whole seven-days-a-week thing?"

Jungkook nodded earnestly, water dripping from his hair. "Yes, I need to talk to you. I realized how ridiculous and unfair it was of me to expect that from you. I'm sorry, Y/n."

"Do you have any idea how silly that whole thing was?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Jungkook's eyes widened, and he chuckled, "Yeah, I know. It sounds absurd now that I think about it."

"Do you have any idea how tired I would be if we actually attempted that?" Y/n continued, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

Jungkook grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, it would've been impossible, huh?"

"Absolutely!" she replied, her laughter ringing in the rain-soaked air. "I mean, did you think we were training for an Olympic event or something?"

"I guess I got carried away with my 'manly urges,'" Jungkook admitted with a playful shrug.

Y/n shook her head in amusement, "Well, lesson learned, I hope. Next time, let's not turn our relationship into a K-drama plot."

"I promise," Jungkook said, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "I won't let something so silly come between us again."

"Do you really expect me to take you back after all this?" she teased, enjoying the moment of lightheartedness.

Jungkook stepped closer, raindrops creating a misty barrier between them. "Yes, I do. Because I realized that I love you, Y/n. And not just for seven days a week, but every single day, no matter the weather."

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she couldn't help but be charmed by his determination and genuine remorse. "You're lucky I have a soft spot for silly boys like you," she said, her lips curling into a playful smile.

"Then does that mean you'll take me back?" Jungkook asked, hope evident in his eyes.

Y/n pretended to ponder for a moment, then stuck out her hand. "Well, since you're already soaked and looking like a lost puppy, I suppose you can walk me home."

Jungkook's face broke into a wide grin as he took her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Deal! And I promise no more crazy demands, just a whole lot of love and laughter."

As they walked side by side in the rain, laughter and joyous banter filling the air, Jungkook couldn't help himself but playfully sing, "I'll be loving you right, seven days a week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday."

"That would be a catchy song," Jungkook remarked, looking pleased with himself.

Y/n's eyes sparkled mischievously as she recalled her conversation with Jimin earlier. "You know," she said, "if you ever decide to make a music video for that song, I have a fun plot idea."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? Do tell."

"Well," Y/n began, "imagine this – a guy who's obsessed with the idea of love seven days a week. He tries to make his partner happy with grand gestures, but it's all a bit much for her. She's tired and overwhelmed, just like I was. And the guy, played by you, keeps popping up everywhere she goes, just like you did in my crazy imaginings."

Jungkook laughed, "So, basically a music video version of our ridiculous situation?"

"Exactly!" Y/n grinned. "It would be comedic and lighthearted, showing that love can be wonderful and fun but also overwhelming if taken to the extreme."

"I love it," Jungkook said, nodding appreciatively. "And you know what? We could even do an explicit version of the song, where I say 'fucking' instead of 'loving,' just to make it a clear representation of what we just went through."

Y/n burst into laughter, covering her mouth in amusement. "Oh, Jungkook! Only you would come up with such an idea. It's genius and utterly ridiculous at the same time."

He winked at her, "That's what I do best."

Y/n looked at him, an amused glint in her eyes, and asked, "Were you there on Wednesday at the laundromat when it flooded?"

Jungkook looked confused, "What? No, I wasn't."

With a grin, Y/n confessed, "After we separated, I started seeing you in the most weird situations, like at the laundromat, and I thought I was losing my mind."

Jungkook burst into laughter, "Really? I would love to hear about all the places you found me!"

As they continued their walk in the rain, they couldn't help but be grateful for the silliness and laughter that had brought them back together. The idea of a music video, even if it was just in jest, gave them a sense of comfort and closure.

"I'm glad we can laugh about it now," Y/n said, looking at Jungkook fondly. "It shows how much we've grown together and how we can handle anything that comes our way."

Jungkook smiled warmly, pulling her closer as they walked back home.

[fantastical-euphoria]

this was me at a one direction concert back in 2014. had myself a blast (besides the last half bucketing down rain). little did i realize just how much this band was going to shape my life, and my tenure on this wonderful place called the internet.

i became massively obsessed over all the boys, harry especially. i thought they were always wonderful people, sunshine and happiness all around. just straight up good people.

i always put my faith in harry, louis, and niall. fan testimonies were off the charts, always stating how amazing they were. zayn i questioned for only a time, but i know now that i was reading too much into it and the golden rule has always been to never fully trust anything you read on the internet. i’m wary of this and have been a sceptic in many, many cases/articles.

now, what i never questioned or considered was liam. he was kind of a wild card for me. i initially thought that he, too, had the same wonderful lovely demeanor as the rest of the boys. they’re british lads, young, so typically you’d stereotype them as innocent charming bucks that are too easy to fall head over heels over.

just these past couple years, that image i had formerly painted for liam has since been tarnished. i feel safe in saying that liam did it to himself. he was the igniter of his own downfall. it wasn’t the fans. *it wasn’t maya.* did his former management and current management play some type of role in it? possibly and probably.

still, i’ll echo what millions of others are typing at the moment, this was far too sudden, far too soon. i didn’t expect any of what was being published on the internet to get to his head that fast, let alone that much. the mental toll that this, *all* this, has taken on him, coupled with addiction torment that he has clearly been battling for a few good years now, is probably the most lethal combo out there. it can lead to what the articles were describing. aggression. that’s not the liam that so so many of us knew. it was the drugs. it was the alcohol. it was the mental drainage. still, we know that the past cannot be erased and his actions are still irreversible, and abuse/assault can never be forgiven.

i cannot imagine the weight that’s setting in on his whole family, and his young son who now has to grow up without a father figure in his life. i cannot imagine how his management is feeling right now. but most importantly of all, i cannot imagine how the boys are feeling. they just lost a brother. they will always remember/commemorate him as their lifelong brother. i cannot even BEGIN to imagine them in tuxes at liam’s funeral… if they even decide to show up. i highly doubt zayn or harry will. if anyone, louis and/or niall, because they’ve been the more actively and vocally supportive of him. i expect all of them to post at least some little thing about this, however, knowing their history of being respectful.

as the days, months, weeks, and years pass, we are slowly watching this grim reality of a disintegrating childhood and, at least for me, teenage-hood unfold before our eyes. this definitely has been one of the more devastating blows. as much as i somewhat anticipated it… i never expected it to come so soon.

i know the fact that this will never become a reality will forever haunt us. if one direction hasn’t been scarred enough in their tenure, this will definitely feel like a gaping gunshot wound.

i’m still reeling, and i’m still processing this. for those who have checked in on me, thank you. for those that i’ve checked on, understand that i’ll still be here, with a hand extended, and an ear to listen. we’re all in this together, grieving over such a devastating loss, not just to the one direction community/fanbase, but to the entire world. liam touched a lot of people, not just fans.

if you have any further thoughts on this, feel free to sound off in the comments. this is a safe space for everybody. ❤️

[ruckystarnes]

Author: RuckyStarnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wanda Maximoff (WinterWitch)

Words: 1,830

Forbidden Healing Masterlist

Bucky remained still in the dimly lit room, the pain in his abdomen was borderline excruciating. The only thing that kept him from passing out was the image of the witch with sienna hair and emerald eyes. His mother always cautioned him about spellmen, saying they were like the dragonfolk: they will help you but will betray you when their own kind is at stake. But Bucky didn’t get that vibe from the petite woman. Judging from her accent, he gathered she was from across the ocean, and she did state she was a hearth witch, one of the few spellmen that will help anyone that is willing to pay. He made a mental note to make sure he got her what she was owed, as long as he didn’t die.

The door slammed closed downstairs startling him, waiting for the authorities to come up the stairs but instead it was the pretty, young witch instead. What was her name again? Did she even tell him? His head was swimming now as he couldn’t keep the pain at bay with willpower. He let out a groan that probably made her think that he was dying because she rushed to his side, coat still on, as her hands struggled to open the box she held. She was at the basin by the bed, fingers shaking as she readied the remedy he could assume to stop the pain.

“I am so sorry sir,” she rushed out, dumping the contents into a small glass bowl he hadn't seen before and added what looked like tea. “I never had to treat anyone with spindrel blood before, and I really should have asked. My babka would be yelling at me, but she is probably working her way here to haunt me.” She turned towards him, looking at the towel that was on his stomach, fear washing over her as she noticed it was starting to be more red. “Anyway,” she kept going, moving to grab a new towel to dip into the new concoction she made, removed the one he was holding, and held the new one to the wound, “spindrels are deathly allergic to bergamot, that’s why this feels like I stabbed you with a fired iron.”

“S’not so bad,” he managed out, hoping he didn’t sound as weak as he thought he was. “Been worse.” He closed his eyes as relief slowly washed through his veins as the new potion started to work.

“I can see that,” she whispered, and he knew she finally noticed all the other scars he had, now that she didn’t have to concern herself over his wounds because his relief was apparent. “Were you…”

“I fended for myself,” he interrupted her, hoping to ease her curiosity, but it didn’t.

“These are hunter marks,” she gasped, her fingers tracing a line of scars along his left arm, “you were hunted.” The way she stated the fact made Bucky open his eyes and look at her with intensity. “In my country, wolves and bears are hunted for sport. Not to kill, no. That would be a waste in their eyes. These horrible humans seem to get more pleasure from torturing. Marking with their own brand.”

He could hear the hurt in her voice, unsure why a spellmen was taking pity on him, especially since she could have left him outside to die.

“This barbaric ‘tradition’ was something done every week. My mother treated many bears and a few wolves. Ghastly cuts and burns. Shifters heal fast, but the act has to be torturous.” She finally looked away from the line of scars to look at his wound under the cloth, her shoulders finally falling in a relaxing stance apparently pleased with what it looked like it should be now. “Hold this here. I’m going to get some dressings and make a salve, then you can get home.”

“Home?” Bucky said under his breath. Home was a word he hadn’t known since he was twelve, when hunters killed his mother to get to him. He was the best sport for them. Sure he had the speed and agility of his mother’s wolf, but the spindrel in him was deadly, and at a young age, it was easy for Bucky to feel cornered or threatened. Now it wasn’t easy for anyone to bring that side out of him, a challenge that other shifters were willing to accept. No one fought a spindrel and lived.

“I haven’t been hunted in a long time,” he whispered. He didn’t know if he said that to ease her mind or to remind him. “I’m not sure if you are familiar with laws here, but if a shifter is arrested we have to state our heritage for ‘safety’ reasons. The first time I owned my paternal side, I was forced into a lab for months, subjected to tests and…you don’t need to hear it.”

The witch remained silent as she gathered the things she needed before sitting next to him again. “I am a stranger,” she nodded, “I haven’t earned your trust to get your life story. Humans are just…”

“Intolerable?”

“Despicable,” she laughed. Oh god, it sounded like faeries sang: light and beautiful. “Besides, when you’re a spellmen, people come to you when they need something, but you’re the first one they blame for something going wrong. Even if you weren’t even around for it.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Bucky noticed the hesitation in her hands, even if it was just slight. “Your accent is…European?”

The woman nodded and went back to tending to him, never meeting his eyes.

“The way you say that humans are despicable makes me wonder if you…”

“Yes,” she interrupted him, “I am European. Slovak actually. I’m what humans call a gypsy, but I’m not. I’m a witch, and last time I knew, gypsies don’t do spells nor are they spellmens.” She licked her lips before she readied a needle with thread, dipping the sharp end into the mixture she had made. “I apologize for almost killing you when I was trying to save you…Bucky. I never tended to a spindrel before, never met one to be honest.”

“Most haven’t,” he replied, eyes closing. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Never offered it to you,” she huffed, making Bucky frown as he was afraid he annoyed her. “It’s Wanda.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now hold still so I can stitch you before patching. Then I can see if you should stay here for a bit.”

“Here?”

“Yes, you seem to not have a home. I cannot let you out of here knowing you aren’t going to take care of yourself after leaving. Sure the dracaena will help ward off infections, but this wound could open if you get into another tussle.”

“You make it seem like I like getting beat up,” he groaned. He could feel her small hand on his abdomen, making him tense under her touch only slightly until he could feel the keenness of the needle pushed into his skin; he sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the thread pull through.

“Take slow breaths. Tell me about yourself. It’ll take your mind off the unpleasantness.”

“I thought there were things to numb the pain,” he growled, fixating his gaze on her. Wanda flinched at him, making him realize that his eyes must have changed from his usual umber brown to crystal blue.

“I already applied it,” she whispered, her voice shaky as were her hands now. He placed one over the hand that didn’t hold the needle and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I apologize.” He tried to make sure his voice was soft and light, swallowing the pain. “Maybe you can apply some more, please?”

She nodded, slowly removing her hand from his to reach for the bowl with the resin mixture. After setting the bowl down next to him, her fingers moved to apply some to the gashes, trying to be as gentle as possible even though her hand was still shaking. Bucky wanted to kick himself for making this self assured witch nervous.

“Let me,” he whispered, “that way you get the spots that actually hurt.” His hand covered hers, guiding them to the areas that were burning. He noticed her cheeks flared, making him wonder if she wasn’t used to being touched or being scared.

“Both,” she replied as if she read his mind. Did she? “Yes,” she added, taking her hand back to wipe it on the cloth before continuing her stitches. “It’s the reason why I ran away here. It’s one thing to be a spellmen, but it’s another when you can read thoughts and predict the future when it’s horrible.”

Bucky fell silent, not asking for her to elaborate, but she did. She recounted the events of seeing a dark force coming to the small village that she resided next to, people dying horrifyingly. She tried to warn the villagers but they brushed it off as a bad dream, but when a plague hit and took more than half the children’s lives and tore families apart, they raided her home when she was out, setting it on fire before she returned. Bucky listened quietly, her voice distracting him from the slight pinches of the needle and the tugging of the thread.

“So, I came here. I advertise as a holistic healer, using only human terminology and playing dumb when a shifter or another spellmen comes to the door,” she went on. “There. Now, I should let you rest. I’ll make you some tea, and find something to eat for you.”

She stood, but his hand caught hers, her face soft as she looked down at him.

“Thank you,” he replied.

She nodded, taking her hand back slowly, making him notice that this time she seemed reluctant. “You would have died if you weren’t treated. And you said you didn’t trust most people.” She placed the items she used into a small basket she kept under the bed and turned towards the door. “Get some rest, Bucky,” she said over her shoulder, giving him a bashful smile, but it disappeared once there was a knock on the door.

“Wanda Maximoff!” A voice hollered, making her drop the basket. “We have suspicions that you are housing a spindrel.”

“Do riti!” she cursed, looking at him with a nervous look. “I didn’t tell, but the man at the store…dracaena isn’t used often.” She gathered the bin and shoved it into the cabinet and motioned him to follow her. “Basement has a secret door under the stairs. Hide there and I’ll come find you.” She motioned to the door for the basement before moving to strip off her shirt, tossing it on the couch and messing up her hair before grabbing a blanket to hold it to her chest, making Bucky blush before he descended the stairs, hearing her answer the door with a labored breath.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Round 3, Poll 3

One Last Adventure v. Ghost of a Chance v. Guardian of Kings v. From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

THE POLL IS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST! CLICK "KEEP READING". (This is going to be a long one. 😅)

One Last Adventure: (Post-Canon AU)

Bilbo blinked, trying to get his bearings. Where was Ered Mithrim? And why do dwarves have so many lost kingdoms they are trying to get back into? And how was he the most qualified individual to do so? Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I think we’re going to have to start at the beginning here.” He determined.

The dwarves made a place for Bilbo to sit, offering him bits of their lunch that Bilbo felt would be rude to turn down even if his stomach was rolling. He learned their names: Brombrar, Gulrik, and Gimli. Bilbo blinked in surprise at the last one, staring at the red haired lad until finally he could place him with the image inside Gloin’s locket. It was clear that portrait had been made long ago as Gimli had a very fine beard, thicker than Fili or Kili’s but not quite long enough to hang off his chin. 

“And Gloin knows you’re out here recruiting me for some adventure?”

Gimli’s face turned bright red as he tried to mumble out some excuse. Bilbo felt his face drain of color. Did anyone know that these children were this far from Erebor? Was Bilbo going to be accused of kidnapping?

“Are any of you actually of age?” Bilbo asked, aghast.

“Gulrik and I both are.” The big one, Brombrar puffed up.

“So what are you doing here?” Bilbo accused Gimli.

“I’m the one His Majesty, Thorin Oakenshield approached!” Gimli defended. “Besides, I’m handy with an axe and it’s not like I’m a wee pebble.”

“So let’s get into that.” Bilbo sidestepped thinking about the angry calvary that was sure to come any second. “Tell me about Thorin.”

Gimli settled down enough to begin the story. He had been wandering the corridors of Erebor (where he wasn’t supposed to) when Thorin approached him. Gimli had been ‘struck by stone’ which Bilbo took to mean shocked. He immediately bowed and asked if it was really the fallen King, Thorin Oakenshield.

“And what did he say?” Bilbo pressed.

“He said, ‘Yes, Gimli, son of Gloin, it is I. Mahal has approached me with a great task that I now pass on to you. Inside Ered Mithrim is an object of great importance that needs to be reclaimed.’” Gimli paused at this point shifting in his seat. “And of course, I questioned it, Master Baggins. Whether or not this was really King Thorin, but he told me of a memory that we shared when it was just the two of us and I knew at that point it had to be him!”

Bilbo felt his heart speed up as his breath caught. It sounded so impossible. It was too good to be true. Bilbo had been there after all. He watched him die. How could he be back now? What kind of magic could do something like that? 

Bilbo indicated for Gimli to continue. So he spoke of this object. Some sort of smooth ball of crystal that allowed one to speak to another with the same crystal ball.

Ghost of a Chance: (Haunted Wedding AU)

Bilbo could have kissed Thorin for getting him out of there so effortlessly. It wasn’t until they were out in the hallway that Tauriel spoke up. 

“This is such a disaster! Bilbo, I’m so sorry.”

Bilbo mentally did not have the energy to comfort the girl no matter how bad he wanted to. Thankful, Thorin took care of that for him as well.

“Tauriel, this isn’t your fault. Why don’t you guys all go out and do something. I’m going to take Bilbo up to his suite for a bit just to give him a chance to process. We’ll call you the moment he makes a decision.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes as Kili rubbed her back in comfort. They all wished Bilbo well in some form or fashion until it was just him and Thorin. It was funny. At the beginning of this week that was something Bilbo would have absolutely dreaded, but now he couldn’t stop himself from leaning a little further into the strong arms guiding him. That did remind him that they needed to talk and soon, but perhaps it could wait until after the shaking had subsided.

They made it to the floor of Bilbo’s room and he struggled to pull out his cardkey and insert it into the slot, but the moment the door closed behind him, it was like he could finally breathe again. A shaky sob came out instead.

“Oh, Bilbo. Come here.” Thorin purred, pulling Bilbo in close.

Bilbo didn’t actually cry, but he held on tight to Thorin as he fought through the hiccuping sounds his throat continued to produce. 

“What the fuck is happening?” Bilbo complained.

“I would say a string of bad luck but this seems even beyond that.” Thorin attempted to joke. 

“Thorin, that cabinet could of crushed me. How did it not crush me?” Bilbo asked in bewilderment.

“Your barstool.” Thorin explained. “You must have knocked it over when you jumped up. It wedged itself under the cabinet and kept it from falling all the way.”

Bilbo shook his head as he pulled away from Thorin to lay down on his bed, the heels of his hands pressing down on his eye sockets. 

“Thorin, what am I going to do? Apparently, there are ghosts out to get me.”

He let out a bitter huff at that which turned into a chuckle before escalating into full blown hysterical laughter. Thorin must think he was absolutely insane as he laughed so much his sides began to act and tears streamed lightly down his cheeks. However, Thorin didn’t say a word. He just sat down next to Bilbo, petting his hair back from his head. It was actually a lovely sensation now that he was paying attention to the rhythm of it, and slowly it was enough to calm Bilbo back down.

“How about room service?” Thorin offered when Bilbo was calm enough again.

“Sweet Yavanna, I should kiss you.” Bilbo groaned in appreciation.

Thorin froze which in turn made Bilbo freeze as his words dawned on him.

Guardian of Kings (sequel): (BAMF Bilbo Baggins)

“You can eat him or stuff him full of eggs for the losses you’ve suffered. It matters not to me, but our debt is paid with his blood.”

Bilbo tried to breathe through the roaring in his head. He needed to think. Neither one of those options sounded appealing in the slightest. A shiver rolled down his back. Yep, definitely needed to stop thinking about it. So what could he do to stall the orcs?

“So that’s it. You’re taking your orders from the spiders now.” He attempted to laugh.

“Shut it runt!” The orc pinning him down shouted as he kicked him in the side.

Bilbo winced, curling in on himself as he panted through the pain. His eyes were squeezed shut, but that didn’t stop him from speaking up still.

“I mean, Azog and Bolg are both dead. Who else could you have to look up to?”

“What did you say, you little rat?” The leader orc growled, picking Bilbo up by his hair.

Bilbo cried out, especially as it unfurrowed him around his hurt ribs. He peeked an eye open to see the orc holding Bilbo’s own blade against his chin. Bilbo could see in his eyes though that he was listening at least.

“The spiders aren’t as smart as you. They aren’t as strategic.” Bilbo grit through his teeth. “They can’t think past their stomachs. What right do they have to demand payment? They should be following your orders. Not the other way around.”

“He’s right!” One of the other orcs shouted.

“He’s just trying to get us all riled up.” The lead orc snapped back.

“We’re only in this mess with the spiders because of you!” Another orc growled.

“You’re alive and not at the end of a filthy elf’s arrow because of me!” The leader screamed, dropping Bilbo to the ground. “We escaped Azog’s war with Oakenshield by the skin of our teeth and the blood the spiders gave us. All it would cost us is this runt’s blood and we’re done with them.”

“Blood that could go to us! You think this thin elf would be enough to feed us!”

Bilbo had done what he set out to do. Now he had to get out of the way before this turned any uglier. He started wiggling like a worm until he got himself up on his knees. He started trying to crawl away when he heard the clicks and clatters of the spiders. He looked back over his shoulder to see them paused just in front of the orcs, their mandibles snapping in impatience. There were only about eight but that was more than Bilbo wanted to deal with at the moment. 

Suddenly, there was a jerk on the back of his jacket before he was dragged backwards and thrown back in front of the spiders. Bilbo could feel his face drain of color as his sword was thrown next to him.

“There! That’s the one, right? The one who slayed so many of you and mocked you as he did it!”

From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories: (Amnesia Modern AU)

“I’m on holiday.” Bilbo explained. “But you owe me the favor after you called to have me change the lightbulbs for you and I promised not to report the incident.”

Odo’s face turned a spectacular shade of purple as he spluttered.

“That-! I-! Fine! What do you want?”

“I just need the keys to your car. I’ll bring it right back.” Bilbo added, hurrying to cut off his cousin’s protest.

“Bring it right-! Now see here, Bilbo Baggins! I am certainly not your taxi service!”

“Which is why I didn’t ask you to chauffeur.” Bilbo smirked. “Come on, Odo. You won’t even have time to miss it. I just need it for a quick trip to the burbs and I’ll bring it right back.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Bilbo frowned. He knew he shouldn’t have expected a mere favor to be returned. His cousin was far too stingy for that. 

“What do you want?”

“Run the Mathom House for me on Saturday.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not spending my whole day up here in this dusty mansion.”

“Fine, just close for me that night. Four hours max. I want to watch the king’s speech live. Our Erebor exhibit is our most popular after all!”

Bilbo would have pointed out it was because of the mystery surrounding the shiny mathoms, but didn’t want to have to get into it with Odo. A few hours weren’t the worst thing. He could bring up his novel considering he would expect just a ton of traffic during that time anyways.

“Fine. You have a deal.”

Odo merely smirked before backtracking on his perfectly functioning ankle to retrieve the keys. 

***

Roughly thirty minutes later, Bilbo was pulling up in front of a modest brick home with brightly colored flowers in the planter boxes in front of the porch. Oakenshield got out of the car first, taking in the house before looking down at his blood stained jacket with a grimace. Bilbo winced wishing he had thought of that earlier. He quickly shrugged his way out of the paramedic jacket he was still wearing.

“Here.” He offered.

Oakenshield looked at the jacket, but still refrained from taking it.

“You’re practically two sizes smaller than me.” He pointed out.

“A size at the most! And it’s not really my jacket. Just take it! It will at least cover up the more…concerning aspects.”

Oakenshield grumbled but agreed as he gingerly took over his old jacket to put the new one on. It was the arm length that really accented how ill fitting the jacket was. So he rolled the sleeves up his forearm in the hopes to disguise it. Bilbo nodded at the look admiring it a bit too much as he headed up the porch to ring Prim’s bell. 

His nerves started to act up as they waited for her footsteps to head their way. His cousin could sniff a story out faster than she could serve tea. Bilbo just knew showing up out of the blue, carting Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, she was going to give him that look. 

[captain-hawks]

happy early birthday beloved dee, I hope you have the most spectacular day tomorrow. 🍰🥳💕 I come with a jean thought that has been haunting me for weeks. walk with me. it is quite literally just the vision of snuggling hardcore with him. kissing all over his face. feeling up his chest. getting all up in his jaw nuzzling him and shit. butterfly kisses!!! giggling!! I know he smells good. playing with his hair and gently tugging at the pieces at the base of his neck. please i’m trying to GET INTO SOMETHING— (the orderlies drag me off while I look like charlie day pepe silvia.jpeg)

WAHHHH thank you so much nonnie 🫶

I'M LITERALLY BLUSHING OVER THE MENTAL IMAGE OF THIS. like......the light brush of his stubble tickling your cheek. the chuckle that vibrates in his chest. his hair (i'm weeping) (i love his hair so much). getting flustered over the smell of him.............his hands drifting down to your waist, thumbs brushing the slivers of bare skin between the bottom of your shirt and the waistband of your pants..........

wait but also now imagine this in a scenario where you're still just friends.....tipping over the edge as all of your flirty touching and cuddling reaches a boiling point when you finally end up sideways on the couch..................kissing everywhere but his lips............

(my head is in my hands ty for this<3)

[safetyobstacles]

starting o segredo na floresta now, im either gonna finish this in a week or its gonna take months good luck me

update - i love joui

joui, its a little cloudy out, roll for sanity. joe, you stubbed your toe, roll sanity. joui did you just frown???????? roll a sanity test with disadvantage. that was cool joui, you gain 1 sanity. just kidding somewhere in the netherlands a child tripped and scraped their knee, you lose 10 sanity.

i think im going to put my updates under the cut instead of spamming posts B) beware of spoil

UPDATE

if cellbit takes liz or thiago from me ill never forgive him

this bar has to be its own paranormal entity, thiago would have died if the gun had a bullet in it and cristopher nearly got knifed to death in their first fight loll

EP 2

npc thiago about to be the most useless mf ever i swear if he dies to a stray ant or something ill cry just put him in a box for safe keeping

what would i do without the mental image of joui dropkicking every monster he sees

liz why are you finger painting with the ooze monsters remains and why did it give you 1 hp ?????? NEVERMIND

EP 3

RACCOON bro has 8 health but he sure is happy

faz um teste de sanidade

when i said thiago was gonna die to an ant i didnt actually mean kill him with giant spiders

cristopher no please dont climb a tree these are spiders they can climb nah bro cristopher is dead af im gonna miss him. bro cellbit just kill him already bros dead 2 hp

damn

ep 4

at this rate luba doesnt even need to roll sanity we all know hes gonna fail anyways joui's having the worst two days of his life

jesus christ i just woke up i cant handle this shit cesar's punching a hole in my itty bitty heart bones

please stop talking about leticio's cacetinho

EP 5 how long is too long for a tumblr post btw

the starting soon screen replaced cris with arthur notlikethis

cellbit is far too happy about them going to this house i hate it i hate it

i would like for them to leave a casa now :))) they got gregório time to go :) DAMN JOUI JUST GOT STEAMROLLED BY THAT ZOMBIE ROLLED A 99 VS CELLS 1 jesus christ thiago LOL NO WAY GREGÓRIO IS DEAD AF bro was just taking a nap in the car and this is what he gets

that was horribly stressful its 3 am how am i supposed to sleep after that

to be fair, if i was rodolfo and liz didnt use the tazer, i would have just dragged gregório in front of arthur and killed him in right in front of his face soo...

ROLLED 100 LOOOOOOOOOOOOL a caverna

COOL GUY ALERT HOPE HE DOESNT KILL BRULIO HAHAhahaaa

EP 6 I HAVE GREAT ANXIETY THIS MESTRE GUY IS ABOUT TO KILL HALF THE SQUAD

luba i know youve been rolling absolute dog shit the last 5 episodes but this one really counts buddy brulio :(

most stressful hour of youtube ive ever sat through i cant believe they all lived

A PORTA FORTE

EP 7 im so glad they're going back to the house im so happy ive never wanted anything else this is great nothing could go wrong in this house nothing

7 episodes in and ive just now realised that he keeps talking about circles and spirals and those have significance with a certain element and now i want them to leave carpazinha go back home forget this ever happened

undressing with the homies in the haunted basement next to a dead old man

not thiago canonically talking to a bookshelf after complaining about joui's whispering to his shotgun

THIS GRAVE IS SO COMPLICATEDDDD I BET ITS FUCKING EMPTY THEYRE ARGUING ABOUT HOW TO "knock out" AN OLD LADY AND ITS PROBABLY JUST WORMS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAVEEE

this whole graveyard scene has me in tears thiago staring at nothing while they try to get him to unmute, old guy on the phone, joui picking up the old lady i just laughed so hard i feel ill

the one time joui doesnt fail a roll he loses 6 SANITY?? 8 SANITY?????????????? SENHORA VOCE TA BEM????? YOU JUST CHOKED HER OUT JOUI WAIT SHES GONNA DIE??????????? SHES GOING TO DIE???????????? THE GASOLINE IN THE MOUTH??

grounded from the shotgun for 1 week

EP 8

Thiago's pants are still fucked up from last episode btw

about to have a tpk over alchohol poisoning

if cesar survives this campaign hes gonna put as many points possible into forgery

a caverna im goign fuckign crazy the god of tdeath pr spomething is in this cave theyre gonna walk inside trip on a pebble and get eaten by hundreds of tiny cave beetles

Victor is absolutely about to get his face eated by a spider and/or be swallowed by the cave

ok but santo berço looks kinda cool like i would live there

EP 9 he just (re?)released osnf merch but i refuse to be spoiled by absolutely anything ive done so well i will not be tainted by cesar's really cool green on black long sleeve

wait i love the gatekeeper its a shame this town is probably a hallucination and theyre all actually slowly dying in the middle of the forest GIANT COWS I LOVE THE GIANT COWS WITH REGULAR SIZED HEADS

????????????????????????????????FELPS??????????????????????

buttery butter

thiago this is why you should have quit smoking

?????FELPS?????????

EP 10 so if thiago hadnt used the lighter would felps still be alive, probably just would have died later B)

bro joui has got to buy new dice this is crazy

this is gonna be the average 2 star motel experience BRO JUST DABBED ON CESAR liz is about to get bodied by the hallway ghosts this is just like a regular motel HUH UHHHHHHH

no joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy

mom i want to go home i dont want to stay in santo berço anymore jesus christ

EP 11 how am i supposed to just start the next episode after that i think the mental image of brulio beating arthurs skull in is burned into my brain space

sandwich sandwich

i love the giant cows so much i want one GIANT CHICKEN LAY GIANT EGG I LOVE THE GIANT CHICKEN intimidating the human sized pig

EP 12 still thinking about how cellbit thought new zealand was so close to europe, he was so sure of it that he was making me unsure of where i knew new zealand was

both times thiago was played by cellbit some horrific shit happened so with arthur being an npc this episode im prepared for the worst also this starting soon screen is fucking wicked

are you telling me joui's max sanity is now 12 bros been losing it for so long hes stuck like this joui is the "damn, you live like this?" meme

CELLBO ROLEPLAYED TOO HARD HIS HEADSET JOINED AS AN ENEMY AND BEAT HIS SETUP

"that sounds like a book title" bro let the intrusive thought win

baby nidere

no way the cow has been suffering this whole time ill cry

theyre about to rp their way into an angry medieval mob when they get found with the body of the dead gatekeeper B) does santo berço have dungeons, bc if they do thats where theyll be sleeping tonight nvm the gatekeeper has demons inside him sorry joui HUh no way they killed the gatekeeper dude wtf

EP 13 chat's a bit excited to go in the cave guys if anyone reads this what am i supposed to do once i finish this season. what do you mean i just have to go onto desconjuração. what do you mean i have to leave this story behind. please let me keep all the characters in this one.

THE CAVE MAP IS COOOOOOL THE LIGHT MOVES WITH THE MINER everyone struggling to flip their characters 5 mins into the cave made me laugh so hard i had to pause to breathe

I LOVE MOLES DUDE THEYRE SO COOL ok but i dont love this many moles BRO I LOVE MOTHS TOO THIS IS AWESOME wait no i hate bats THIS MOTH IS SUFFERINGGGGG

THE SUCC hes about to kill them all with the Succ out of spite thiago never mock one of cellbit's monsters again ARTHUR ZIUM

door door door door door door door door door door the gatekeeper is alive???

ih arthur nah dude let go of cesar :(((((((((((( gotta hand it to arthur hes survived two of these situations now get it, hand it to him, CAUSE HE LOST HIS FUCKING ARM WTF HIS ARM DETATCH LIKE A LEGO sorry i vote we still kill the gatekeeper just in case just to be safe

EP 14 did cellbit have a past traumatic experience with a vacuum is that why he created the Succ

agatha?????? bro agatha's life sucked big pp

every time cellbit says hes excited for something i grow more afraid

if they kill and eat the gatekeeper would he also taste delicious just wondering

i think i might know the reason why 12 sanity joui has a funky grey form but 55 sanity thiago doesnt, but maybe im crazy nevermind thiago had the funky grey within him this whole time wait does that mean hes gonna die if santo berço dies DAMN

joui just really wants to see thiago naked also hes just blatantly stealing arthur's knife he really is losing all his sanity that was possibly the most unconvincing "nada" ive ever heard

EP 15 before i start a new episode i always go to the vod on twitch and watch the memes first so i can go "hehe" for five minutes, and then go "oh no" for the next 4 hours

hypothetically, if joui managed to get the symbol on him before anyone noticed would he have just lost all 12 of his sanity and gone mad cuz that would have been crazy :,)

this is it cellbit is finally going to kill npc thiago joui is so very happy about his shotgun i thought maybe he was getting better but hes whispering to it again

alright whats up with cellbit and the outwards opening doors because i swear i have never seen a door that opens out instead of in, are all the doors like that in his home these doors are made to have creatures attack from inside ih i just checked like 3 times to make sure i was on the right episode lmaoooo

"pobre martha" DAAAAAAMN MARIANA ICE COLD

one buff woman vs all 3 equipe kelvin who will win (1 woman) crazy that equipe kelvin managed to accomplish what took our group 9 episodes to get to lool they even got the leticio cacetinho dlc, but they did skip the spider boss fight and the entire house level

THE BLACKSMITH IS MIGUEL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

EP 16 the joui, liz, and arthur cosplay look like theyre going to a nice dinner meanwhile thiago, kenan, and cesar just look homeless

idk if thiago's making it out of this one :,) maybe we just take thiago's weapons its not like he can do much to help anyways kenan wants to skin him listen brother i dont think thats gonna work im at the 52 min mark and cellbit is acting sus af the blacksmith is about to appear and stomp them all or something

joui would roll a 99 and nearly knife cesar and liz is trying so hard not to metagame her way to the explosive backpack loving how trigger happy joui is right now go on guys give him more explosives what the worst that could happen

is kenan also a wellspring do they have to kill him cuz thats gonna be kind of awkward and on that note since thiago has the symbol on him does that make him a wellspring too ill cry i will cry

NOT JOUI APOLOGIZING FOR LYING ABOUT HIS SAMURAI ANCESTRY

damn that scene between joui, liz, and thiago was the best in the entire season

i would like to take this moment before they all get swallowed alive by some horrible sludge tentacle monster to proclaim my absolute hatred of Santo Berço. I know i said at the end of episode 8 that i thought it looked cool but im over it ive moved past that point in my life i hate Santo Berço

BIG GOOEY MEATBALL

"the people are happy here!" says the blacksmith as he currently has 5 people forcefully locked up for decades that have gone mad with probably no way of ever regaining their sanity i just realised miguel and the old blacksmith fucked and had a kid

final boss aboutta come crawling out of the meatball please stop trying to skin thiago the symbol isnt gonna come off

THAT WAS SICK AF THEYRE ALL DEAD AS HELL

???????????????????? "kenan you have one last sane move before i take your character and throw him off a cliff"

:(

post i made after i finished osnf (made like 3 days later because i was so so so so so so so so so so sad)

https://www.tumblr.com/safetyobstacles/739056899257942016/i-finished-osnf-after-almost-2-months-and-you-know?source=share

[hellhound5925]

Welcome to the next Chapter ☺️ I have decided to post once a week and I’m going to try to stick to Tuesdays so mark it on your calendars! Also, I will like the previous and following chapters in each of these posts to make life easier for those of you who might just be joining us. I hope you enjoy!

Cyare Verd

*OC Raven x Hunter

Previous: Chapter One

Chapter Two: Spoils of War

Sleep has never come easy for me. Every time I close my eyes - even for a few minutes - the image of the surface of my home world, left to be nothing but ash. Followed by the night I thought Aspen and I would die…

After hearing news of the bombardment Aspen and I were at one of the many cantinas of Ord Mantell drowning our sorrows. After everything, we needed some time to mourn and think through our next move. It was too risky to make the trip to Mandalore with everyone looking for me and my family.

Since others had found out about what we were doing, a bounty had been placed on our heads. Most people weren’t dumb enough to mess with a mandalorian let alone two so Aspen and I stuck together.

Only after Aspen mouthed off - like she tends to do when she's drunk - to the bartender did some di’kutla (fool/idiot) try to make a move. He came for me first and even though my body didn’t do exactly what I wanted it to, he went down with little fight.

I knew we had quite a bit to drink but I can hold my liquor. Nothing was adding up.

It wasn’t until the rest of the merc’s filed in did I realize it was bad. My vision began to blur and patrons were running out screaming. My head spun at the chaos. Sober, we could have made it out. But it almost seemed like we had been drugged.

Before I had time to process, I was shoved to the ground and hands bound behind me as the same was done to Aspen. The familiar click of a blaster safety as the barrel was pushed against my temple. The cold metal biting my skin. If there was ever a moment I needed my beskar it would have been this one. Too little too late.

Hunter

Raven woke with a startle, smacking her head on the bunk above her. The sound echoed through my bones and up through the walkway where the others took notice. Her breathing was so ragged, it pounded in my head. The horrors of whatever she was dreaming were all over her face.

"Everything okay?" I asked, preparing for a snarky response.

"Yeah, fine" She snaps, brushing it off.

Echo and I exchange a look. We’ve both seen that before, the days after Echo was rescued from Skakko minor.

Our eyes meet briefly before she stands and moves toward the fresher. The haunted look in her eyes causes my chest to tighten. Only when the door clicks shut do I let out a breath and run a hand through my hair.

Something broke her between Kamino and here. I resist the urge to comfort her but what would I say? She’s practically a stranger.

“What is it?” Echo asks as if he’s the one with enhanced senses.

Sighing heavily, and tear my eyes away from the door.

“We uh, we spoke on Kamino a few times. She trained some of the other Commandos.”

Echo smiles at me like he knows something I don’t.

“I knew it was her.”

He laughs at the confusion written on my face.

”No offense Hunter but even back then we knew something was up.”

”What do you mean?”

”You never could take your eyes off her.”

The thing about Echo is he has always called things as he sees them. This time I’m not sure I’m happy to be the one he calls out.

As on cue, the console alarm goes off for the jump out of hyperspace. Mentally I thank whatever powers at be for coming to my aid.

“We’re coming out of hyperspace.”

Raven

Mumbling to myself I place both hands on either side of the sink.

“I don’t need their sympathies.”

Splashing some water on my face and trying to shake off the images from my dream, I collect myself. There is a slight rattle in the ship indicating we’ve likely excited hyper space. I quickly rebraid my hair and secure it in a bun at the back of my neck.

Opening the door to the fresher Hunter is there as if he was about to knock.

"We're here" is all he says.

Understanding. His expression was one of understanding. Not pity like I’d expected. The walls I’ve built around myself threaten to come down.

To avoid further conversation, I quickly exit the fresher, grabbing my helmet on the way and join the others as we prepare for landing.

————

Serenno - as much as I almost hate to admit it - is beautiful, the lush grass and forest that seems mostly undisturbed. I can almost imagine myself camping out under the stars.

In the background the boys are arguing about how they should be doing 'more' to fight against the Empire. I can't say I blame them, with a group like this they could do enough damage and tell the Empire to nar'sheb (shove it).

Yet I roll my eyes at brothers fighting. Mine have done this time and time again. Sometimes I’d take bets on who would throw the first punch if it was bad enough - it was usually Ordo.

Sliding my helmet on, I turn back to the boys with hands on my hips.

“Are we going or what?”

They all stop and look at me like something important was interrupted. But let's face it…they were getting nowhere.

Hunter is the one who gives me a sidelong glance. A challenging smirk tugs at my lips and I tip my visor up to meet his gaze. One eyebrow raises and a shadow of an amused smile hides under the skull tattoo. For whatever reason that has my stomach doing a flip. I spin on my heel and strut towards the woods. His eyes were no doubt on me the whole time.

“She’s right we need to get moving.” I hear him say behind me.

We make our way up a large mountain in silence to get a good vantage point. The trees provide enough cover from the sun I mentally thank whatever powers that be its not unbearably hot.

"That's the city?" I scoff seeing all the imperial ships.

"What happened to it?" Asks Wrecker.

"Imperial orbital bombardment. Same as Kamino." explains Echo.

"They bombed Kamino too?" I guess I was so caught up on my own stuff to hear about it. A chill rakes down my spine. Unable to suppress it, their attention is drawn to me. Echo’s helmeted head tilts from me to Hunter whose eyes are still on the city below. The latter is the one who speaks.

“Mandalorian’s aren't the only ones who lost their home.” His words strike deep, the tone meant to be of understanding.

Once again, I find myself turning my attention towards him. It’s anyone’s guess what he’s looking at but there’s no doubt he can see me staring. The half skull painted on the same side of his helmet as his face. For once I don’t think my visor is the most intimidating one here. There’s something quite attractive about it.

Tech looks through his binoculars and speaks, getting us back on track. "It appears that they are beginning to transport the war chest off-world."

I drag my attention away from Hunter and flip through my HUD to see what he's looking at.

"Our window of opportunity then” Hunter speaks like maybe he was too busy paying attention to notice me.

"It's quickly closing" Tech continues.

A moment of silence washes over the group as we continue to observe.

Hunter shifts "There's over 40 troopers down there."

I scan around making note of where they are and their patrol patterns. Scoffing, I stand and brush the dirt off my knees. “And?”

"That's nothing!" Wrecker says, enthusiastically slamming his fists together.

Three visors snap his direction as if he isn’t taking it seriously. “I agree with Wrecker” I add flipping my thumb over my shoulder at him.

"Stealth, Wrecker. Remember?" Echo says, causing me to chuckle - I’m not sure how someone so large can be stealthy.

"Imperial escort ships” Tech continues. My attention drifting towards them.

"That's standard protocol for when high-level cargo is being transported." I say matter of factly. My turn to have all visors on me. I throw my hands to surrender. "At one point we were all a part of their army, remember.”

"Get to the nearest container and grab what you can" Hunter barks at us. His tone sparks something in my blood. "I'll be eyes on the ground. If things go sideways, I'll divert their forces and buy you some time."

I tilt my visor in his direction, "that’s too much for one person. I can help." If he thinks he can order me, he’s wrong. He shakes his helmet covered head.

"No, I'll be fine, now go.”

I huff an annoyed sigh and glare daggers at him - not that he can see through my visor - hoping he feels the sharpness of them.

The rest of us all head down the hill in silence before - other than Wreckers thunderous steps - taking cover behind some trees.

"In position. And the second transport's launching" Echo’s voice comes over our com channel.

"We've got roving patrols. Stay alert." Hunter commands.

A figure - I now realize is Hunter's - darts onto the landing pad. I watch as he tactfully places detonators on a few of their escort ships. As if he didn’t trust me to do that.

“I coulda done that” I sass.

His winded voice comes back over coms. “We need as many as we can to get the crates.”

Echo interrupts "Let's go.”

I follow reluctantly, rolling my eyes.

When we approach one of the chests, Wrecker takes out one of the troopers with one swift movement which earns a look from the others.

"What? I did it quietly" he throws his hands up in defense.

"Yeah, but they will definitely notice when he doesn't report in" Tech scolds him climbing into the first container and the rest of them follow.

"Well, let's be gone by then” I hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I'm going to head to the next container over, I'll catch up with you guys."

"You shouldn't go alone" Tech says to me.

"I'll be fine" is a poor attempt to dismiss him.

If I can go alone Cid won't know what I have and don't show her. Tech turns to Echo like he’ll back him up. Only he doesn’t say anything.

“You don’t trust me.”

“We simply do not know you.”

I sigh in annoyance standing my ground. “Don’t think that I’m not capable of loyalty just because I have no one left to be loyal to.”

A few tense seconds past and I realize we are just wasting time. “Fine” I climb in behind them.

————

"Woah so this is what a war chest looks like" Wrecker says in awe.

Sliding the door mostly shut behind me, I glance around the room. Floor to ceiling boxes that are full of what I can only imagine. Personally, I've never been much of a thief. Honest work is much more satisfying - another reason why Cid was never my favorite - but again, here we are.

Tech speaks as we begin to look around "Our priority is anything of high value.”

"Like what?" Wrecker asks. I now realize that Wrecker is basically a large child at times.

"Well I suppose anything shiny or heavy is probably a good start.”

Together we work for a while to determine what is worth taking and put it into one of the emptier crates.

There's enough in here I'd never have to take another Osik (crap) job again. I could even disappear.

Tech speaks breaking the silence, “How did you come to know Cid?”

Halting my movements, realizing he’s talking to me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

”You want us to trust you. Yet you won’t tell us about you.”

My temper starts to flare, ”I’m not worth knowing. Okay?”

Echo cocks his head in confusion. Yes, he opened up to me but that doesn’t mean I’m just willing to talk about me.

“What I’ve heard about you on Kamino says otherwise.” He says carefully.

I turn back to picking through crates. Their eyes feel heavy on my back, turning my head slightly. The three are standing there staring at me. They really aren’t going to let it go.

“Everyone that gets to know me either gets hurt or dies” My voice is so soft it doesn’t even sound like my own. No one comments and they go back to work in silence.

Aspen's face being shoved into the carpet with a blaster also pointed at her head flashes in my mind. Even though she was smirking, I could see the real fear in her eyes. We thought that was it.

Taking a breather, I head towards the door and peek out to look for patrols. The trooper Wrecker knocked out is still out cold on the floor next to me.

Conversation seems to pick up and I listen while staying on look out.

"Woah" Wreckers voice echoes in the container. "How could all of this belong to one person?".

A sigh, "A lot of this probably came from the worlds Dooku and the Separatists controlled."

"Grab as much as you can.”

The unconscious trooper’s com goes off as another one tries to get ahold of him.

”Osik (shit)” I mumble. Just as two troopers around the corner. Fumbling to quiet the troopers link, I open ours to Hunter.

"Hunter, I think we're about to have some company."

Next thing I know, there's an explosion. Jumping up I help the others finish getting the crates around. “That’s our distraction. Oya!”

An alarm sounds shortly thereafter, even through my helmet is ear piercing. As if on cue, Hunter's voice fills my ears “I'm on my way to you.”

"Let's speed this up. Wrecker, that one goes first" I take charge not really meaning to, but no one objects.

Wrecker picks up the container and heads out to meet Hunter. Just as he makes it out the door begins to shut. I grab onto the sides and pull, trying to keep it open.

“A little help would be great!” I grunt out, straining against the door.

Echo rushes over to the port and connects his socket to it. Our comms buzz.

"The ship's taking off. Get out of there" Hunter sounds worried.

"Hurry Echo!” I yell, my fingers getting closer to being crushed.

“Let it go. There’s nothing I can do from here.”

Once I let go, the door shuts sealing us in. We all look to Echo for any kind of update but it's like he’s in a trance. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it.

After a few moments he speaks, voice strained "It's externally sealed. I can't open it."

I comm Hunter, "Hunter we're trapped in the container. We can't get out."

"On our way" Hunter replies.

I take a few hurried moments to look around to see if there's another way out. Tapping at the walls to see if there's a hollow one we can cut through I continue my search but it's taking too long.

"Hunter, where are you?" The question comes over the comms.

"Sorry, we Got a little sidetracked. You need to get off that ship before it jumps to hyperspace" he continues sounding winded.

Tech puts a hand to his chin thinking for a moment, "If we gain access to the ship's main hold, we could commandeer an escape pod—“

“—Do it. We'll get to the Marauder and recover you.”

After moving some containers my search finally produces some results, "There! We should be able to get into the rest of the ship from there" I yell towards the others and point at the hatch to the maintenance panel.

Tech comes over, and gives his assessment before nodding.

"Are you sure this hatch will lead into the ship?" Echo asks.

Tech looks at his datapad. "If I am incorrect, we will instantly be sucked out and perish. I am seldom wrong."

I roll my eyes. "Ba'gedet'ye (you're welcome)" comes out under my breath. Echo must have heard me because he lets out a light laugh.

The door slides open.

"Congratulate yourself after we escape". Echo's sass makes me giggle and Tech tips his helmet towards me, probably giving me a look. He looks back down at his datapad.

"The closest escape pod is five corridors away."

I peer around the corner down the hall. "Let's get going then.”

Drawing a blaster (my westar-35) from my hip and head out with the others behind me. Tech and Echo carrying another container. We make our way down a few different hallways per Techs directions.

Once we get closer to the escape pods a door slides open and troopers step out "Freeze" one of them yells. Echo and Tech drop the container. The three of us duck behind it as a barrier.

With a quick glance between the three of us I make a split-second decision. My armor will hold up against blaster bolts. There's will not. Decision made.

I nod to myself for a brief pep talk.

“What are you going to do?” Echo asks.

Whipping around to peek over, I tell him, “Cover me.”

In one smooth motion, I slide over the top of the container landing on two feet. Bolts of blaster fire begin to fly past me, forcing my HUD to adjust to their brightness.

Crossing my arms in front of my body, I use my vambraces to block the shots coming for my visor as I move closer to the troopers. Even through my beskar, the shock of them sting - But far less than it would for the two in plastoid. I can feel bruises already forming under my skin.

Tech and Echo return fire from behind me, taking out a few of them. I swore to myself I would never harm clone troopers, only stun if it came to it. Once I’m close enough I can tell they aren’t. So death it is then.

I eject my blade from my vambrace with a skunk that's barely audible over the sound of blaster fire, and plant in just above the collar bone one trooper. He goes down with little struggle once the blade is gone. His body now becomes a shield taking the brunt of the bolts for me. I drag him with me for as long as I can while shooting my way through the others.

Fighting my way through them seems to be never ending. With that being said, I can hold them off long enough for the others to escape.

"Find another way to the escape pods!" I yell over the comms. Even though my helmet I can already smell the scoring left behind by the blasters.

"They just ejected all the escape pods!" Echo yells back.

Cursing under my breath in Mando’a, I drop the body of the trooper I’ve been dragging. Two of them take the opportunity to lunge at me - fortunately I’m able to get a shot off as the three of us hit the floor.

"Go- Get out of here!" I yell, trying to shove the now limp trooper off me. Just as I do, the other one crawls over me towards his blaster. It landed out of reach further above my head. Rolling onto my stomach I reach for the knife in my boot and cram it into his calf. His pained cry echoes through the all too quiet hallway.

With a quick glance behind me the other troopers are now incapacitated in a heap of limbs. Electricity arcing between them. By the time I swing my attention back to the trooper in front of me, his blaster is aimed at my helmet.

Using my arms I block the front of my head for the impact. A lone shot echoes through the space but the impact never comes. As I lift my eyes slowly from behind my arms, the trooper is face down on the ground unmoving. A hole through the side of his helmet. Tech is standing over him with a hand outstretched holding a smoking blaster. Plastoid. What a joke.

I take the opportunity to catch my breath and roll onto my back. "Do you trust me now?" I grunt.

”I suppose.” Tech’s matter of fact reply.

“Vor’e (thanks)” my tone is quite sarcastic.

"Ba'gedet'ye (you're welcome)" Echo hollers back. Then it clicks, ah me must have been the one in Cid's Parlor who laughed at what I said to her.

————

We take a few moments to catch our breath and come up with a plan. "There has to be another way off this ship" Tech says which has Echo simmering with irritation.

"Other than over taking this vessel, what do you suggest?" He sasses.

Wait a second. Idea. "Hey, aren’t these containers equipped with reentry thrusters?” Both Echo and Tech shift their visors towards me. I shrug. Tech goes back to his datapad.

"You are correct. I am impressed. However, the containers must be ejected before leaving the atmosphere, which means our window is rapidly closing.”

"Great, this just keeps getting worse" I sigh.

"Come on, we need to hurry," Echo says, taking the lead.

We carefully make our way back to the container we came from, taking out any troopers we cross paths with.

"How much time do we have?" Echo checks in.

"Very little" Tech says in his usual tone.

Finally making it into the container, Tech immediately goes to work on the panel on the wall "initialing cargo release".

I steady myself, cursing in mando’a as my stomach drops and the cargo starts to free fall. After a few very long moments - and a lot more cursing - nothing happens. We’re still in a free fall.

"When are the reentry thrusters supposed to fire?" Echo asks.

Tech thinks for a moment. "They should have by now."

“Great. Suddenly I’m wishing the troopers had just finished the job!” My irritation is boiling over.

I make my way to the cargo net on unsteady feet, with Echo and Tech in tow. Echo and I make it first and just as we turn to help Tech but the container turns over. Thankfully he holds on but his feet are hanging in the air, "that is going to be a problem" he voices.

“Thanks Captain Obvious!”

Next Chapter

Wattpad link here.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 35

Gale and I step into the building of the Inn after a fresh stroll through Waterdeep, which smells of freshly baked sourdough bread and blueberry muffins. Quite the pleasure to the senses, I must say. It reminds me of innocent days where my mother would bake me a delicious homemade breakfast twice a week before going to the temple to pray to Sȇlune. As we enter the Inn, I notice a couple high elves and a dwarf playing some morning tunes on the lute and flutes to set the mood for those morning people. Rolan is sitting down at a table alone with his cup of coffee. Rolan’s face lights up as he notices us approach him.

“Ah! My friends, come sit!” Gale and I accompany him at the table and immediately a waitress hands us our menus. “It’s good to see you both. And how nice it is to get away for a little while.”

“How has it been at the tower?” Gale asks with a welcoming tone. “Are you practicing becoming a master wizard? I wouldn’t doubt it if you’re there already.”

“Ah, you’re too kind. Unfortunately, I’m not where I want to be just yet. I’m only improving every day. I’m having to partake in my studies more frequently, as well as teaching Cal and Lia the wonders of magic. Just in case anything happens to me. Enough about my life story.” He studies our baby, smiling but looking rather perplexed. “Say, you’ve had your baby for a while now, right? Or am I going mad as a hatter?” Crap! We never told him our situation and that Jenevelle won’t ever age.

“Whew, it’s a very long story, but here it goes,” I mentioned, mentally preparing myself for his reaction. I go into detail with him about what happened with Jenevelle and how the devils needed her soul to destroy Raphael. How we were promised immortality and that the outcome would have been torture if we didn’t do what we did. As I explain, he looks rather astonished and I can’t exactly tell if he’s judging me.

“Oh Gods, I’m… I’m so sorry. That could not have been an easy predicament to be in. I’m glad it all worked out in the end, at least.” Abruptly, as Gale begins speaking to Rolan, the sounds around me become muffled and my vision fades to darkness, but like a cloud of smoke. This has happened to me before, ages ago…right after I had Jenevelle. Images of Gortash, Orin, and even Ketheric appear right in front of my very eyes, and it’s as if they’re actually here. Holy shit.

“Hello Emmy.” Gortash’s voice still sounds the same, though I can tell hatred is being spat right at me. I swallow the fear and horror as his haunting voice speaks to me. Tell me I’m fucking dreaming and this isn’t happening. I guess if mind flayers can change forms and hags can curse people, anything is possible.

“Well, are you going to say anything, or just sit there silently, mentally squirming at our words as we claw our way into your soul? You’re wasting every second that could be used to slaughter every breathing piece of flesh left standing,” Orin teases, flashing her bloody teeth as she smiles.

“Quiet, Orin. Emmy, dear, we’ve been watching you. My, you are quite the impressive specimen, killing not only all three of us, but the netherbrain itself. You even destroyed countless assassins of Bhaal. I’m impressed. It’s a shame you didn’t put that talent to use and dominate the brain like I instructed before. So inconsiderate and stupid.”

I try to speak, but I’m interrupted by Ketheric’s haunting voice.

“If you make a single sound, your husband, your friend, and everyone else in this building will hear you. Choose wisely,” he growls, smirking at me. I clench my fists, feeling rage flush through me as I fight off the urge to speak.

“Now, as I was saying,” Gortash retorts, cracking his knuckles. “Imagine all of the lives you could have saved by dominating the brain. You could have controlled all the Bhaal cultists –”

“No, no, no, no, NO! You tyrant, are you listening to yourself?!”

“Unlike you, Orin, I crave control. Power. Not the deaths and flesh of millions of people. Not the screams of the innocent begging for mercy.” This is absolute chaos. Why do they feel the need to harass me, even after their deaths? How is this even happening? They must have been the unsettling presence I felt last night; what else could it be? So many questions are rummaging through my head, gnawing at my brain like animals.

“You will pay for what you did. On the contrary…we are able to summon another elder brain,” Gortash adds. How I want to respond to his pathetic words, how I want to pin him against a wall and kill him again.

“If our gods are willing to provide the means of this happening,” Ketheric chimes in, his eyes practically staring Gortash down as a means of dominance, which is a foolish idea. They must not realize I’m immortal. If they do, they’re really good at pretending to be completely unaware. What I do know is that they know something I don’t; at least Gortash does. His disturbing and ominous smirk is hinting that he’s hiding some sort of secret from me.

“Oh, poor little baby, too afraid to speak. To cry. To do our bidding or ask questions.” Orin laughs as she speaks, licking her bloody fingers as she gazes hauntingly into my soul with her pale eyes. Gortash closes his eyes.

“We’ll speak again soon.” Those words alone were the most disturbing out of everything he said; what does he mean by that? I know damn well Gortash is keeping something from me, and it’s making me uncomfortable on every level.

My vision is back to normal and I can hear every sound around me now; was time somehow frozen? It appears Gale and Rolan are completely unaware of my temporary absence from reality. The waitress comes back again to take our order, just shortly after I zone back in, but I’m too stunned to speak.

“What would you like to eat, my love?” Gale asks with a kind smile on his face. I order the strawberry cream pancakes, which honestly sounds beyond incredible right now. I look down at Jenevelle, who is lying comfortably in my baby-wearing wrap. She reaches up at me, gazing at me with her sweet, angelic brown eyes as if she’s saying, ‘It will be okay mommy.’

I hate that I saw those three again. I hate that Gortash tried to guilt trip me for not dominating the brain. Why can’t they just stay dead like everyone else who passes away? I want to tell Gale about this, but will he believe me? It all sounds ridiculous when I think it through.

As we finish our breakfast, I hear the door open and, surprise, here comes Karlach and Wyll, who we seem to bump into a lot considering Waterdeep is a relatively large city.

“Rolan? Emmy? GALE?!”

“Karlach, why are you the most surprised to see me?” Gale questions with bewilderment. I stand up and bolt toward them. Karlach greets me with open arms, ready to embrace me with one of her famous hugs, but all I can think about is how anxious I am.

“Karlach! Listen, I need to talk to you. Could you and Wyll drop by later?”

“Sure thing, Em! Wait, what did you do?” I playfully roll my eyes and sit back down at the table. I let everyone chat to catch up, but Gale notices I’m not acting myself; he’s good at that. Damn it.

What pisses me off is that I had so many questions I needed to ask, but I couldn’t and those dead chosen bastards knew it. I’m not going to be playing their preposterous games. I need to let it go, maybe I’m overthinking the entire situation.

[lovelywingsart]

Hello I'm not dead just extremely busy and burnt out because we leave for our yearly convention on Thursday and guess who's making an entirely new hammer for Heisenberg

This is what I have as of last night and I need to finish the front piece in order to paint it tomorrow because we leave for the hotel on Thursday

This thing is fucking huge, about 4+ feet in length. It nearly comes up to my shoulder.

Real talk, I would have had it done about a month ago had everything not happened at once... My moms accident, plus the depression and fuckery at work, its been... bad. Really bad mentally. So I've been crunching making this thing, I hate looking at it because it makes me depressed but I'm almost done and its already so much better than my old one and ill post a comparison image when it's done but like.

I've been chipping away at this for about 3 fucking weeks, if not a straight month because of everything happening. I haven't been able to do art, barely been able to sleep because I've been staying up late to work on it (between 1-3am when I need to wake up between 7-8am), this thing has been haunting me and I despise it

But also my cosplay is gonna be so much better for it, I can hold it WITHOUT the handle threatening to snap because I used PVC pipe as the base instead of wooden dowles AND i can swing it around. Might add more glue for the gears to add a tad bit MORE stability, but right now I can swing it and it won't break and thats what matters. Its also heavy as fuck for me too, and it'll be hell carrying it for 2 days... but it'll be fun.

Maybe.

Anyway, I'm back off to work, I'm gonna finish this bitch tonight, paint tomorrow, and be ready by Thursday. I'm gonna do it. And then after the convention I can focus on art fucking FINALLY.