#the perils of tag bundles

[sailoreuterpe]

...Having now noticed, several dozen posts in, that I've labelled them all with "Logan Lush," I'll be hitting my head against a wall.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 12

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And here we go, with our Avengers: Civil War moment…

Song Inspo: “I Go to Extremes” by Billy Joel

Word Count: 5.1K

Tags/Warnings: Violence, blood, and death. Angst, peril, hurt/comfort, and fluff.

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🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 12: A Fire in the Blood

Ben walked into the kitchen the next morning in search of coffee and food. He added some grounds to the coffeemaker on the counter and grabbed a bagel from the fridge, then slammed the door shut.  

“All right, get the fuck out,” he said, as if to an empty room. “I’m gonna lose my breakfast before I even eat it.”

Slowly, Charlie and Donna stood up from behind the kitchen island. Both of them looked wrecked. Her hair was wild and disheveled. He had dark red lipstick smudged all around his mouth and neck. Their clothes were bundled in their hands, but they needed no further prompting to run butt-ass naked out of the kitchen. Ben shook his head.

“Fucking animals,” he muttered.

But he didn’t blame them for being bored.

Meanwhile down the hall, Donna pulled Charlie into the shower with her. She got him to start washing her hair while she bathed the rest of herself with a bar of soap.

“He took it a lot better than I expected,” she said.

“Well, he’s probably known since at least last night,” Charlie said, smirking. “The man’s got super hearing, and you didn’t exactly keep it down.”

She reached back to smack his thigh teasingly. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought he’d raise more hell.”

She actually frowned at the thought. Part of her had indulged with Charlie because she thought it might piss Ben off, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem to give much of a fuck. In the past, he once snapped a man’s wrist for touching her ass at a gala. In fact, he’d ruined a lot of perfectly good hookup opportunities for her by being his jealous, caveman self, even though he was whoring himself out with any willing female.

So now, either Ben hated her that much, or…he actually did care about you.

Ben answered his cell when it rang. It was a familiar number.

Arthur. This better be fucking it.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

“Yeah, I found her,” Arthur said, with a grim sigh. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Where?” Ben demanded. His hand clenched on the phone, threatening to crack the frame.

“Nottingham, West Virginia. It’s one of Vought’s most high-security labs. I didn’t even have clearance to know about it when I worked there,” he said. “It’s easy to miss though. Somewhere between a national forest and a couple of cemeteries.”

“Good enough for me,” Ben said. He finished his coffee in one quick slurp and headed over to his room to get the rest of his suit on. He was only half dressed.

“I hope you find her. Now I’ll be fucking off to Belize. Stan’s probably already got eyes on me,” said Arthur.

“Don’t you worry about Stan. After I get Sirena, I’m chopping the head off the fucking snake,” Ben said angrily.

“Okay, well, good luck to ya.”

After hanging up and lacing up his boots, Ben headed out of the room and down the hall. He banged a fist on the bathroom door, hard enough to rattle its hinges.

“Suit up, kids! We’re headed out.”

Arthur’s directions were direct enough. Donna had to park her car somewhere along the main road, but it was another mile or so before Ben finally found what they were looking for: a solitary building that looked like a nondescript farmhouse from the outside.

“This is their top secret high-security lab?” Charlie said. “Looks abandoned.”

“That’s exactly how they want it to look,” Ben said. It reminded him of the lab in Siberia. He was willing to bet that the lab itself ran several stories and floors underground.

Once they stepped out from the safety of the trees, gunshots rained from above and up ahead. There was a line of armed guards emerging from the front and the back of the building, while a helicopter descended from above.

Donna took out most of the guards on the ground, while Charlie shot his guns at the helicopter and took out the glass in the windshield. Ben threw up his shield at it, causing irreparable damage to the vessel. The pilot was forced to initiate a crash landing.

The helicopter doors opened, revealing Black Noir. He grabbed another man and jumped from the helicopter. The other man screamed, but the landing was swift. Noir made sure that Mindstorm landed on his feet, more or less, while the helicopter carved into the ground behind them and combusted.

Ah, the gang’s all here, Ben thought grimly. It saved him the trouble of hunting those two down as well.

“So it’s true,” Mindstorm said, taking in the sight of Ben with both astonishment and dread.

“Hey, Dan,” said Ben. “Looking rough.”

It was true. The man appeared to be a shell of his former self; thin, with lines of age around his eyes and across his forehead, his skin pale and splotchy. A decade of paranoia and reclusion hadn’t done much good for Dan. Noir must've scrounged him up from his hiding hole, like fishing out a rat from the sewer.

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.

Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.

Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.

“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.

Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.

Chaos ignited from there.

Something’s wrong. You felt it, with so many energies converging high above you. It must’ve meant that you were underground, yet again.

There were still men in the compound itself. You now felt their energies being stuffed out, closer and closer in your direction.

Ben? You wondered. You stood up from your cot in nervous anticipation, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. After Vogelbaum dropped his news, you’d spent the entire night battling your shock, followed shortly by your panic.

No matter what they did to you now, there was no way you were going to let them hurt your child.

Ben…

More than anything, you wanted to see him. You wanted to tell him that his dream was coming true, whether he was ready for it or not…

But there was something coming, and it wasn’t him. You would’ve felt it if it was him. By the rate the men were dying somewhere outside of your cell, however, it was getting closer to your cell. For some reason, you just couldn’t identify the energy signature itself.

You got your answer when your cell door forcibly opened. You gaped in shock.

“Countess?” you said.

She was panting for breath, but she whipped a sweaty lock of red hair out of her eyes and reached out a gloved hand for you.

“Come on, before I change my fucking mind,” she said.

You were still in shock, but you managed to break yourself out of it to follow her out of the cell. You had to stop short though, as an entire unit of Vought security came pouring into the hall with raised guns.

You opened your mouth and began your siren song. Within seconds, every man curled in on themselves as they screamed in pain. Some of them managed to rip their helmets off as they gripped their heads. Tears of blood dripped down from their eyes, and they all soon fell into lifeless heaps.

You stopped singing, and your eyes faded from glowing violet to their normal hue. Donna looked at you, both stunned and wary.

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t work on women. Even frigid cunts like you,” you said with a grin.

She smirked back. “Come on then.”

“Where’s Ben?” you asked, joining her in hastening down the hall.

“Up there fighting,” she replied, pointing up to the ceiling. “You’re about fifteen floors down from the outside world.”

“Fucking figures,” you muttered, but your heart swelled to know that Ben was here, and he was all right. Your hand went to your lower belly on reflex.

“Wait,�� you gasped, as something occurred to you. “We need to find someone.”

“What the fuck do you mean? We need to get out of here!” Donna said.

“There’s a kid somewhere in here, and I’m not leaving without him,” you snapped. You began opening doors where you sensed a presence inside. Most often it was a lab technician or other employee, and Donna vaporized them.

You opened one door and found Dr. Vogelbaum. Finally, you saw him react with widening eyes. You felt his fear.

Donna eviscerated him too, in a bloody mess of limbs.

You grimaced at the gore, but you paused, noticing a thick file on the man’s desk.

THE HOMELANDER PROJECTwas stamped at the top in large red letters. You picked your way through the mess and grabbed the file. Then you and Donna continued heading down the hall.

There at the end was a red door. Something about it called to you. You reached out with your awareness, and you felt a familiar male energy, young and scared and alone.

You beckoned Donna over. The door was heavy and locked, but the two of you worked together to twist it open by its large circular handle, like the hatch on a submarine. It swung open with a creak, and inside the room was a bare white cell, not unlike yours.

A young boy sat against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees, wearing a white shirt and plain gray sweatpants. He was blonde and blue-eyed, and he felt familiar to you on-sight.

“John?” you said, stepping inside the cell.

He tilted his head, like he recognized your voice. He said your name uncertainly as he got up to his feet. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said, approaching him with cautious steps. “I’m getting out of here, but I want you to come with me.”

John looked reluctant, even as he glanced at your outstretched hand.

“Vogelbaum is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore,” you said. “John, please, let me help you.”

After a moment of his indecision, John reached out and carefully grasped your hand. You led him out of the cell, and encouraged him to stay close to you when you and Donna started back towards the elevators.

The three of you rode all the way up to the top level, where the sounds of an epic fight raged behind the doors of the building. Still, it was a familiar balm to your frayed mind to step outside those doors and find a bright sun beating down on a dusty clearing. Beyond it was layers of forest trees.

Donna said that her car was about a mile in that direction, but before you guys could attempt to get to safety, Noir landed right in front of you.

“Irving—” you said in warning.

Donna raised her hands, prepared to blast him into pieces, but John threw the first punch. It landed squarely in Noir’s chest and had him flying several feet away, into a nearby tree. Your mouth fell open in shock as you gave the kid a wide-eyed look.

John smiled up at you, in a—Did I do good?—kind of way.

“Holy shit,” Donna muttered.

You huffed a short laugh and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, bud.”

You shifted your attention to the rest of the battle, and it caught on Ben with a gasp. He was striding toward Mindstorm with his shield held in front of him. He backhanded Mindstorm in the face and quickly got him pinned on the ground.

Charlie was already lying unconscious, trapped in his own mind. Donna went to try and help him, while you started running headfirst toward the other two men.

“Ben!” you shouted out.

He glanced up at you on reflex, but it proved to be an unfortunate distraction, giving Mindstorm the opening he needed to reach out a hand and touch Ben’s forehead. His eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground.

“No!” the ragged yell tore from your throat. You knew full well what Mindstorm was capable of.

You rushed forward and tried to capture Mindstorm with your siren song. It managed to hold him in place, making him grip at his temples with strain. You knew you didn’t totally have him under your spell, however. Not until you knelt down in front of him and grabbed his face with both hands. Your eyes illuminated brighter as you focused all of your power on him.

Mindstorm fought it tooth and nail, but ultimately, the pull of you was too much. He screamed as blood trailed down his face from his eyes, nose, and ears, until his voice faded, and his blue eyes became unseeing. When you released him, he slumped into a heap.

You fell back onto your ass and heaved for breath. All the while, you stared at his unseeing eyes. Part of you felt sick with yourself. The other part felt vindicated, and a little more free.

With a gasp, you remembered Ben. You turned over and crawled over to his body where he laid unconscious in the dirt and dead leaves.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have killed Mindstorm. He was the only one who could’ve brought him out of this.

Unless…

An idea struck you, and you knew you had to try. You shuffled onto your knees and took Ben’s face carefully in your shaking hands. You closed your eyes.

Focusing your powers on his being, you entered his mind. You waded through waves of darkness as they lapped at you, trying to draw you in. But you were a brighter light. You went deeper, layer by layer.

You began to see moving images, like scenes from a reel. You saw his father, berating him. You saw the moment Compound V was injected into his arm, immediately filling his veins with pain. You saw his mother’s funeral, a day marked by falling snow and a stoic set of Ben’s young shoulders.

You saw so many days and nights at the facility where you both were kept, but one in particular struck at your own heart—the day Dr. Eisenstein had you brought you into Ben’s cell and slammed you down on the table in front of him, prepared to inject an unknown experimental serum into your body.

Ben’s face seemed angry on the outside, but this deep inside his mind, you felt his anger, as well as his fear, and his desire to protect you.

You weren’t sure it would work, but you needed to get his attention somehow. You needed to wake him up.

“Ben!” you shouted to him.

To your relief, he actually looked over at you, meeting your gaze with surprise in his own.

Until you were ripped away from him, out of his mind and into the waking world. Your bleary eyes eventually focused on the dark shape above you. On Black Noir.

He hauled you up by your arms and began to drag you across the clearing, away from Ben.

“Stop!” you struggled. Noir ignored you, just tightening his hold.

He dragged you past Donna’s body. She was dying on the ground, with her throat cut and bubbling with blood. Your eyes widened, but you quickly took in the rest of the clearing.

John was trapped under the massive trunk of a fallen tree, struggling to get up. He was being swarmed by Vought security guards.

Just over Noir’s shoulder, you caught sight of Ben. He was starting to wake up, and he turned over and pushed himself up onto one knee. Relief filled your chest.

In a fit of desperation, you dug your heels into the ground. “Let go! Let go of me!”

You opened your mouth and took in a breath to sing, but how quickly Noir’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking the breath right out of you. He tightened his hold, little by little, until you began to feel lightheaded. Panic gripped at your heart.

“Stop, Noir, please! I’m pregnant!” you pleaded, with tears in your eyes.

Beyond him, you met Ben’s gaze. His mouth fell open as he stared at you, after half scrambling to his feet.

You returned your attention to Noir when you realized you could feel his shock, and the tension through your hand on his glove. He glanced over his shoulder at Ben, then back at your tearful eyes. You felt Noir’s disgust, swiftly followed by his anger.

You gasped when he let you go, just so he could unsheathe his weapon. Ben gritted his teeth in anger. Before he could throw his shield, Noir swung his katana down on you.

You instinctively raised up your arms to protect yourself, but the blade only shattered against your skin. You raised your head, blinking in shock. You clenched your fists, and you realized that you felt different, somehow. You were strong.

You shoved Noir hard in the chest, and he flew several feet away, rolling in the dirt as he landed.

Ben ran over to join you. He wrapped his non-shield wielding arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him. You melted into him in relief, resting your head against his chest.

“I don’t know how I did that,” you admitted.

“Looks like knocking you up comes with some added perks,” he said, grinning down at you.

Once you understood what he meant, another wave of shock hit you. The life inside you was not only carrying his genes, but some of his power as well, making you strong.

You looked up at his smug grin and rolled your eyes in amusement, but you also wanted to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss. The look in his eyes told you he wanted to oblige, but you both stopped short, coming to attention when you saw Noir picking himself up from the ground.

“I’ve got him,” Ben said darkly. He let go of you and took a step toward Noir, putting himself in front of you.

Two old enemies faced each other. This time, Ben began to make the first move.

Just then, a pair of red laser beams broke through the clearing and cut through Noir’s mask and skull. He dropped to his knees, and then fell to the ground.

What the hell…

Slowly you turned back to see that John had broken free of the guards. All of them lied either passed out or dead at his feet. He stepped over them and went to your side with shaky hands, shocked at even his own power. Had he known he could do that?

“Are you okay?” he asked you in concern.

You were still reeling, but you nodded and grasped his shoulder. Ben was unsettled looking at John. You knew the look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether the kid was a threat as well. Ben slid an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“Ben, this is John,” you explained. “He was a ‘guest’ in the lab, same as me.”

Ben seized up the kid. Eventually he rested his shield on the ground and reached out his hand.

“John, huh?”

The kid nodded and shook his hand. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“That’s a strong name,” Ben said. John smiled.

With that small peace won, you slipped away from Ben and went to Charlie. You knelt down and felt for his pulse at his neck. You shook your head in sadness.

“He’s gone,” you said. Ben helped you stand again.

You were disappointed about Donna too, even knowing she was the one who helped sell you out in the first place. You were sure it was probably under duress, but she had saved you today.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ben said. You agreed, but first, you looked back at the lab.

“They took vials of my blood. God knows what else they have in there,” you said.

“They took your fucking blood?” he said, through furrowed brows.

“Yeah, that’s how I know I’m pregnant,” you said, again, holding a hand to your belly. Ben softened slightly at that.

He blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay, you and the kid hang back. Far back.”

You grasped John’s shoulder and led him over to the dense line of trees. You both hunkered down behind a fallen tree trunk and watched Ben approach the lab.

He set a firm stance and concentrated, until his chest glowed with power. Letting loose a yell of strain, he summoned a blast that destroyed the entire building. It not only created a backlash of debris and flames, but it also shook the earth. He stalked forward and angled the blast downward, so that it would consume the floors below as well.

You had to duck down further as the impact of the blast was too much. John covered you with his arms around your shoulders.

When it was over, Ben struggled to regain his breath. He even stumbled a bit on his way back to you, but he kept a steady pace, until he found you and the kid again. Ben reached a hand for you and once again helped you up from the ground, guiding you into his arms.

His chest still felt hot, but you didn’t care. You curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him down to you for a kiss. It was relief, it was passion, and it was home.

You parted slowly, his forehead pressing against yours.

“I love you,” you whispered into the small space in between.

Releasing a subtle breath, Ben nodded. You opened your eyes and cupped his cheek.

“You can say it,” you prompted, teasingly. “It’s not gonna kill you.”

You could hazard a guess at what he was thinking. This close, you could feel him, and his reluctance. But his lips hinted at a smile.

“Yeah, I fucking love you,” he said. He thumbed at your chin, his gaze roaming over your face before he met your eyes. “I love you.”

Tears made your vision blur a little. You nodded, smiling, and reached up on your toes for another kiss.

“Are you guys done yet?” John asked. He shifted on his feet, all antsy and tired. “Can we go?”

Ben’s face fell into annoyance at the kid. You gave him a rueful smile, and one last stroke of his cheek.

“The car’s about a mile out,” Ben said.

“Yep,” you said. “I guess we start walking.”

John slept in the backseat of the car while Ben drove down the highway going northeast. His gaze roamed over you as you stared out the window, seemingly calm with that file you stole from Vogelbaum’s office resting on your lap.

With a sigh, you turned your attention to it. Ben couldn’t help but distract you first. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh.

“Hey,” he said. You perked up at him.

“You okay?” he asked. You smiled a little and slipped your hand over his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Considering.”

He alternated between watching the road and watching you a bit closer.

“Did they hurt you?” he pressed. You shook your head, squeezing his hand.

“No. They pretty much left me alone,” you said, though his concern warmed you. You also sensed something else underneath…the sting of regret. It took him a few beats, but he eventually spoke.

“I shouldn’t have let you go out alone,” he said, briefly meeting your eyes. “I should’ve been there.”

It was as close to an apology as you’d ever gotten from him. You almost smiled.

“Look, we’re here now,” you said. “Pretty soon, this is all just going to be a bad memory we can put behind us, like everything else.”

You rubbed his arm and glanced down at the file sitting on your lap. Your curiosity had you flipping it open. The more you read over its contents, the more your face slackened in shock.

“Oh my God, Ben,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Pull over for a minute.”

“We can’t stop here. We need to get to the airport.”

“This is important. Stop the car.”

He huffed in annoyance, but he pulled the car over. He left the car running and got out along with you.

You later leaned against the passenger side while he read the file. You watched the shock descend over his face as it all began to click together in his mind. He turned and pointed at the backseat of the car.

“He’s…”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Christ on a damn cross,” he said.

“Yeah,” you repeated. You covered your mouth with a hand. “And the poor kid’s been kept in that basement his whole damn life… It was Vogelbaum’s project, but how did he do it?”

A realization fell over Ben. He joined you in leaning against the car. The file fell to his side.

“Back in…’81. No, beginning of ’83, before you joined up. Vogelbaum wanted a sample of my swimmers for an experiment. Something about genetics,” he said. He still remembered the Penthouse Forum he used to give his “sample.”

June. Danielle Deneux. Bush like a Pomeranian. He almost smiled at the memory, but the rest of it soured that part for him.

You gave him an incredulous look. “And you didn’t ask questions about what they were going to use your sperm for?”

Ben rolled his eyes and gave you the file. You shook your head.

“The point is, John is…more or less your son,” you said.

“What?!” John exclaimed. He spooked you and Ben when he popped up in the car window.

You should’ve known he’d have enhanced hearing. Just like his father.

John came out of the car, and both father and son looked at one another in assessing ways. Even though they had different coloring, you started to notice the similar shape of their jawlines, the line of their noses. John soon had tears in his eyes.

“You…you’re my dad?” he said.

Ben’s hands went to his hips. His posture was stiff and awkward.

“I guess I am,” he said.

He didn’t expect the way John literally flew over and hugged him with a strength that impacted Ben. He grunted and grabbed the kid’s shoulders.

“Okay, all right, lock it up. Don’t be a little girl about it.”

John’s face fell with dejection, but he dropped his arms and took a step back. You became both dismayed and angry.

“Ben!” you said sharply. “Let your son hug you, for fuck’s sake.”

He shot you a warning look, but you had your hand on John’s shoulder as you glared back at Ben. He crossed his arms.

Then he uncrossed them with an exasperated huff. He went to John and dropped a hand on his shoulder. Smiling in satisfaction, you moved back to give them a moment.

Ben looked down at the kid’s face. His blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t his. He must’ve taken after his mother, whoever she was, or whatever genetics Vogelbaum manipulated, but he did see his own strong jaw in the kid.

“Well, it’s unfortunate that we couldn’t meet sooner, but…looks like you’re my son,” said Ben. “I'm thinking you want to stick around with us.”

John nodded vigorously.

“All right,” Ben said. “Then let’s get going.”

John nodded again, quickly wiping at his face to clear away his tears.

Good, Ben thought with a quirk of his lips. He squeezed John’s shoulder and let him go, so he could return to the driver’s side of the car. You gave John a warm hug. Ben saw it through the window and almost shook his head. He could already tell that you were going to try to mother that boy.

Somehow, that thought just softened him, at least a little. Because it reminded him that you were carrying his child as well. Not to mention, his blood was making you nice and strong.

When you slid into the passenger seat, he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss over your knuckles. You smiled at him.

“Where are we gonna go?” John asked.

Ben glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Ben's brows drew together as his expression firmed.

“To finish what we started,” he said.

You knew what that meant. He wanted to go to New York to finish off Stan Edgar, Stillwell, and anyone else who had a hand in their capture.

“Ben, they’ll never stop trying to get him back,” you said, gesturing at John. “And…when Vogelbaum took my blood, he said they wanted to monitor me. Apparently this has never happened before…a supe getting another supe pregnant.”

Ben paused.

“He talked like I was a rat in his lab, and he wanted to document the findings,” you said, as tears welled up in your eyes and made your throat tight with emotion, and the remnants of dread.

Ben frowned and squeezed your hand.

“That’s not fucking happening,” he said. You sighed and wiped at your cheek. After taking a few steadying breaths, you managed to get a hold of yourself.

“If we go back to New York, it’s a big risk,” you said.

This time, Ben actually considered what you were saying. He was stubborn though.

“I can’t just fucking let it go. What Stan Edgar did, what they all did—”

“If you take out Stan, they’ll just put another one in his place. I doubt it’ll ever end,” you said. You moved his hand to your stomach. “But if you want this. If you want a family, this is it.”

Ben glanced down at his hand under yours, and then your face. As much as he wanted the rest of his revenge, he also wanted, and needed to protect you. He couldn’t make another mistake like last time. If you were taken from him again, he’d have no one to blame but himself. 

That also posed a harder question. Where the hell could he take you where you’d be safe? Even Arthur had fucked off to Belize.

Ben stroked your hand in contemplation…until an idea came to him.

A grin raised his lips.

“All right,” he said. “How do you feel about Colombia?”

AN: Lol! Suffice to say, there's going to be a big BMD easter egg in the Epilogue, but did you like how the final battle shook out? Was there anything that surprised you? Do you wish some members of Payback had lived?

I went back and forth on how some characters would meet their end, but I felt that this is the story I wanted to tell, with her, Ben, and John escaping together and forming their strange new family. 😂💚

Next Time: The Epilogue...

A phone dock rested on the coffee table. The call was on speaker.

“That child represents a multi-million-dollar investment,” said Stan Edgar.

“You should’ve thought about that before you shipped us off to motherfucking Siberia,” Ben snapped. “Hell, before you decided to steal my goddamn DNA. But guess fucking what. He’s my son. He belongs with me.”

You gave him a look of pride, resting a hand on his thigh in support. He glanced at you and grabbed your hand.

“You’re not leaving me with much recourse here, Soldier Boy,” Stan replied.

Ben leaned forward. He took that as a very real threat.

▶️ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

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An extended mattress in two parts (left and right split)

A separated under-sheet to mix and match colors

A starter frame in 30 colors (keep an eye out for more to come)

Both Blankets and Sheets come in 3 color palettes, so pick which you'll use most, or select the mega bundle (if 90 swatches in one doesn't drive you up the wall!).

Blankets Come in 3 patterns - Basic, Knit, and Plaid

Before you download be aware: V1 has minor lighting problems

PATREON HAS IT ALL HERE, SIMFILESHARE LINKS BELOW

Basic: Picnic Plate Summer Vampire Forest & Feather

Knit: Picnic Plate Summer Vampire Forest & Feather

Plaid: Picnic Plate Summer Vampire Forest & Feather

Or Choose Bundles

Basic Knit Plaid

Under-sheets:

Picnic Plate Summer Vampire Forest & Feather

OR Bundled Swatches

**Bonus Sheets: 85 Swatches of EA Basics in the style of my Linen, Unlinked

Find Frames Here

TOU: These are based on EA meshes and pngs. They were a bloody pain to make. I don't want you to go through what I did. Seriously. Do what you want with them. Edit them (at your own peril), recolor them, throw them in a zip and share them with a friend. Please tag me when you use them! I'd love to see.

If you must put them behind a paywall, you may do so as long as you place the following visibly before the download: "The original creator thinks I am a moron for putting this behind a paywall. You can get it for free somewhere else."

Enjoy this early taste of the Lovestruck polyam that's sure to grace the platform later this month. <3 Happy simming!

[marshmellin]

✨ Star and Stone or, The Fall of King Gil-galad

Elaniel, a stonemason fleeing the fall of Eregion, makes her way to Lindon. When she meets Gil-galad, something unexpected occurs. Amid the chaos of preparing for a war against Sauron, their growing love is tested by the weight of duty: his to lead armies into peril, hers to rebuild what darkness has destroyed. The pull of two fëa is strong for the Eldar. But is duty stronger?

F FOR FIX IT: Explicit for occasional smut scenes between consenting partners. All other content is PG-13/Teen for language and canon-typical descriptions of violence. All chapters tagged.

Tags: Gil-galad lives. I try to be as canon-compliant as possible except for the whole 'keeping Gil-galad alive part.' Gil-galad x female OC female Sindarin elf. Sort of a slow burn, but well get there. Canon-typical angst. No beta, we die like Mirdania.

Occurs between the Fall of Ost-in-Edhel in Eregion and the Battle of the Last Alliance. Contains references to other Tolkien lore and the Silmarillion with author notes for full explanations.

If you enjoyed this, check out ✨The Director's Cut✨ masterlist with quick links to all of my TROP/LOTR content.

Chapter links under the cut.

Ch. 1 of 12: Between the Mountains and the Sea

Ch. 2: Mirrored

Ch. 3: Fair and Free

Ch. 4: Countless Stars

Ch. 5: Silver Shield

Ch. 6: Preparations

Ch. 7: Where the Shadows Are 🔥

Ch. 8: Long Ago He Rode Away

-> NEW >> Ch. 9: Wherever the Need is Greatest

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60597052

//

Star and Stone or, The Fall of King Gil-galad

The Fall of King Gil-galad Gil-galad was an elven-king. Of him the harpers sadly sing; the last whose realm was fair and free between the Mountains and the Sea. His sword was long, his lance was keen. His shining helm afar was seen; the countless stars of heaven's field were mirrored in his silver shield. But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star in Mordor where the shadows are

//

For days, survivors trickled westward along narrow paths toward Lindon, carrying few possessions but heavily burdened by the memories of what they had seen. Of who they had lost. 

Soldiers from Lindon supplied waypoints to help protect the survivors from straggling orc groups, with mounted soldiers ferrying civilians between waypoints from Ost-in-Edhil. Gil-galad’s scouts had reported the arrival of each new group, describing not only weariness but a grim determination in their eyes, a will to endure that hadn’t been crushed by the growing darkness.

The elves of Eregion were strong.

//

The road was long, winding through the remnants of ancient forests. Elaniel trudged along the rough path, flanked by the silent company of her fellow survivors. It had been days since they fled the city’s shattered walls, and the journey to Lindon was slow. She was with one of the last groups of survivors on the trail — an assortment of warriors, tradespeople, and elflings without their parents. 

Two handfuls of us at most. This week has made many orphans.

They stopped at the next the rough outpost built of half-finished wooden barricades, lashed together quickly and supplied with the barest essentials. There were no formal fortifications or armaments here, just hastily constructed barriers and watchfires burning low. This place had no room for rest, only vigilance. Around her, other survivors from Eregion huddled near the fires, speaking in hushed tones.

She watched as a small group of Lindon’s soldiers gathered around the central fire, speaking in low murmurs. Their faces were steady, their voices calm. 

Are they calm because they are so familiar with the horrors of war? 

Or are they calm because they are not?

Her gaze lingered on one of the warriors—a tall, lean elf with silvered hair braided down his back. There was a steady rhythm in his movements as he collected bundles of lembas bread to hand out at the campfires. His smile was soft as he came to the orphaned younglings, giving them a few sweets to share in addition to the bread. 

Elaniel felt a pang at the look of compassion on his face. She waited for feelings to flood her, but none came. 

Standing in silence, she watched the fires flicker in the clearing, the light casting warm shadows across the faces of her fellow refugees. 

They were strong. They would rebuild.

//

Twilight settled over the sky. Elaniel reached a rise in the path and paused to take in the scenery around her. In better times, she might have found beauty in the rugged landscape, the mossy rocks, the towering oaks and golden aspens reaching high into the sky. The wind bit at her cheeks and she pulled her cloak up tighter against the chill, wisps of hair peeking out of her hood. They would make the city by nightfall.

Lindon was the elven kingdom furthest west in Middle Earth. It clung to a strip of land between the mountains and the sea, the rebuilt remnants of a near-fallen kingdom. 

This realm would be her new home. For now. 

She kept moving.

As their small band approached the end of the trail, the city gates opened, revealing stone walls that curved gracefully into archways and towers, glimmering like silver branches in the dusk. Her eyes lingered on the architecture, the skill of the stonework. She reached out to touch a foundation wall as she walked by, feeling the solid rock beneath her hand.

She was a stonemason with centuries of experience in her craft, but Lindon’s walls were unlike anything she had seen in all of Eregion or even Khazad-dûm. The skill in the curves, the way the stone flowed as if the walls grew from the earth itself. The old masons of Lindon leveraged the beauty of natural stone to craft protective walls. The masons of Eregion sought to tame the woods and rock around them. 

The thought stirred something in her, a memory of Eregion’s walls and those who had fallen to defend them. Now was not the time to mourn. She would have an Age to weep.

Or I will weep for an Age, she thought. Or perhaps both.

As the group entered the city, they were guided to a large courtyard where guards moved through the crowd, offering food, blankets, and kind words to each group. The survivors clustered together, many calling across the courtyard, begging for information of their families and friends who may have already arrived — and of those who had not. 

A ripple passed through the crowd, and Elaniel glanced up, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. At the head of the courtyard, a broad figure stood, wearing an unadorned, simple gray-blue and golden robe – if “simple” and “golden” were terms that could be used together. A circlet of gold leaves added to his already imposing height. 

Ah. This must be our welcome committee, then. High King, it looks like, unless everyone in this realm wears golden crowns. Wouldn't surprise me if they did. 

Annoyance twitched through her. She wanted to see a hot meal and a clean bed, not a politician offering platitudes. 

“Elves of Eregion,” he began, his rich baritone carrying across the courtyard. His tone was soft, yet he commanded a respect that quieted the crowd. “I welcome you all to Lindon, and invite you to stay with us as if this were your own home. You are safe within our borders, and your lives here will be as peaceful as the stars allow. Come; rest in safety with us.”

Gil-galad finished his speech and began moving through the crowd, greeting each cluster of survivors in turn, calling for healers or sleeping accommodations. Elaniel watched him draw nearer, noting his unhurried steps. 

I am exhausted, hungry and covered in dirt – perfect time to meet a king. 

She also noted he was quite handsome. Up close, his chest was broader and his build more muscular than he appeared from across the courtyard. Strong jaw. Soft brown eyes. His long, dark hair was drawn back into a half braid, a few gray strands at his temple. 

She reminded herself that she had seen many handsome faces over the centuries. His face was no different. And it was rude to stare. 

She was too tired to focus on not focusing. Her eyes started to flutter close. 

Finally, he reached her in the corner of the courtyard. “It is my honor to welcome you to Lindon, my lady.”

“High King Gil-galad,” she replied with a similar, if slightly sleepy, formality, blinking herself awake. “It is my honor to be welcomed. I am Elaniel, a master stonemason from Eregion.”

His eyebrows lifted in polite interest. “A stonemason? A skill of great importance for our people. Did you practice your craft in Ost-in-Edhil, I wonder?”

A red flush rose to her cheeks, and her tiredness waned for a moment. “Yes, I did, under Chief Mason Carasta,” she replied, a note of pride creeping into her voice despite her– admittedly unenthusiastic– attempts to squash it. “I designed and oversaw the construction of the eastern walls and watchtower fortifications.”

They were strong. 

A shadow passed over her face, a reminder of the destruction that had claimed her city. Of crumbled walls that she once marveled at, thick and sturdy.

But not thick enough. 

“Fine work, indeed, and no small task,” Gil-galad said solemnly, his eyes filled with sadness. He dipped his head to catch her gaze. “Elaniel of Eregion, you have my respect and gratitude for your service to our people. Many are alive today because of your work.” Reaching out, he clasped her hand between his in a simple gesture of thanks. 

And then, the world shifted. 

She looked up at him, curiosity blooming into open surprise. She sensed his fëa, a deep knowing she had never experienced with another being in her two thousand years of existence. His soul contained a fierce tenderness she hadn’t expected, a warmth that softened the sharpness of his mind. And a pull towards duty, to do better – be better, stronger, wiser – for his people that bordered on frustration. Impatience simmered at the edges of him, held back by wisdom and weariness. Her eyes went wide with wonder.  

And Gil-galad stared back at her, shock etched into every line of his face. His eyes flicked down at their clasped hands, before he held her gaze again.  

Elaniel felt known in return. Her stubbornness, the defiance and wit she used to hide her more vulnerable emotions. The compassion for others that hammered in her heart, louder than anything else. The anger she wrapped in layers and buried beneath a pressure to work, to do more, to earn her place. The sadness that sometimes filled her when she looked at the stars, a stirring she never named. 

He had not let go of her hands. She did not want him to.

They could stay here for an Age. No, they would stay. Like Melian and Thingol, they would stay rooted to this spot, bathed in moonlight, unable to leave each other. The courtyard would crumble and overgrow. The trees would reclaim the land. Tilion would chase Arien’s flame across the morning sky and finally hold her sunfire in his arms. 

And Eleniel and Gil-galad would still stand here. Knowing and known. The string between their chests tying them together. 

“High King, Herald Elrond requests your presence as soon as possible. The Commanders have gathered to present an urgent report,” came a strong voice over Gil-galad’s shoulder. The voice could have come from the wind or the mountains – Elaniel did not see who spoke. She did not care. 

But the message seemed to shake Gil-galad awake. He nodded over his shoulder in response, his eyes never leaving Elaniel’s.

“The walls here are different from Eregion,” she whispered tightly, groping for something else to say, anything to say to keep him here. “Living stone. Beautiful.” She was not sure she was speaking in full sentences. Again, she did not care. 

A deep noise came from his chest, a rumbling agreement only she could hear, his voice low. “Yes. We treat beauty with reverence here.” His thumb brushed softly against her knuckles. A flicker of hesitation – burden and responsibility fighting curiosity and desire – played across his face. She thought she saw his jaw twitch. She knew she saw him hold back a sigh.

And she saw the exact moment that responsibility won. 

“Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo,” he whispered. A star shines on the hour of our meeting. 

Gil-galad pressed her hands between his once more before letting go, and she instantly missed his warmth. Then, as if a door had shut in front of her, his face smoothed into one of a politician. “Welcome, Elaniel of Eregion.”

And without a glance back, he moved on, leaving her standing among her fellow survivors. She watched him until he disappeared from the courtyard into the palace. Seeing the last glimpse of his robe as he walked out of the courtyard caused a tugging at her heart. A new, unfamiliar type of….sadness? Yearning? A pulling at this new knot in her chest. 

She blinked, confusion on her brow.

What was that? 

By the time she fell asleep that night, face down in a hastily set up cot, she wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not.

//

Elaniel wound her way from the low, humble building that served as the gathering place for Lindon’s refugees to the city center. Her quarters—if they could be called that—were modest, one of many small, shared rooms in the main hall set aside for those who had fled.

Elaniel often shared the space with two other women from Eregion, each bearing their own wounds from the city’s fall. Every evening, they sat together in silence, staring at the flickering candlelight, each lost in her own thoughts.

But she would not let herself be idle with her thoughts for long. She busied herself helping where she could, assisting with basic repairs, offering an extra pair of hands for craftsman work. 

Herald Elrond put out a call for skilled craftsmen to volunteer their skills to prepare for the upcoming conflict, and she had answered. She was glad for the distraction it provided, even if she often lingered on the fringes, an outsider looking in. 

Today, as she entered the small council chamber for the stonemasons’ meeting, a hush seemed to fall over the craftsmen gathered there.

At the end of the table sat Halion, one of the oldest and most influential masons in Lindon, known for his meticulous designs and proud, exacting standards. He barely acknowledged her presence, instead choosing to ignore her altogether.

Today was no different. As the council discussed the defensive measures for Lindon’s outer gates, Elaniel waited for a pause to interject. She cleared her throat when there was a lull.

"I would like to share this concept," she replied, her tone upbeat and respectful as she pulled a drawing from the stack of papers in front of her. "I have experience with fortifications—"

Halion interrupted with a scoff, his arms crossing over his chest. “Experience with fortifications? In Ost-in-Edhil?”

Elaniel held his gaze, determined not to be shaken. Her tone flattened slightly. A warning.  “Yes, in Ost-in-Edhil. I was part of the team that oversaw the building of city fortifications and the eastern wall. I know where we fell short and where we succeeded after four weeks of continuous siege. I believe Lindon could benefit from these insights.” 

She paused for a moment before pushing on, clamping down the anger in her voice. 

“During the fortifications of Eregion, we strengthened the ramparts with reinforced stone blocks with chains attached to anchor points in the rock,” she began again. “A similar approach here could add to the strength of—”

Halion’s hawkish face was hard and unforgiving. “Had the walls of Eregion held but moments longer, perhaps more of our kin would be with us.” He spoke as though each word were calculated to cut deeper. “I am unsure your counsel is needed here, stonemason.”

A murmur of agreement moved around the table, some of the others nodding or casting her brief, condescending glances. 

The accusation stung. She had fought so hard to tame the memories of that day—the crashing of stones, the cries of her elves around her, bodies amid the rubble. But here it was, brought to the surface casually by a man who had not been there. Had not seen. 

She dug inward for a measured, appropriate reply. 

And all she found was anger. 

She dug again. 

Rage. 

“If we’re assigning blame for the loss of Eregion, perhaps you ought to consult the enemy,” her cheeks heated, scathing words flowing quickly now. “Do you not allow for growth in Lindon? Or is it your intent to personally cast out every stonemason here should their work fail once? I did not recognize we all stood in the presence of perfection.”

“That’s enough,” Halion started, standing up. 

No, it’s not.

“Oh, I understand, Master Halion,” her voice lowered, a false softness. Poison and mockery filled every syllable. “Perhaps if you had been in Ost-in-Edhil with a bucket of mortar and a trowel, they would all still be alive. I know you would have single-handedly turned the tide of the battle with a stack of bricks if you were. but. there. 

“But you were not there, Master Halion, so I suppose we must disregard your thoughts on the matter.” She could see outrage and embarrassment flash across Halion’s face, and a twisted satisfaction blossomed in her chest at his discomfort. The other craftsmen around them began murmuring louder, and she knew she was not winning over hearts or minds.

Anger does not serve me now.

Anger does not…

Anger…

Be angry later. 

She let out a slow, steadying breath, willing her muscles to unclench. Weariness crept into the lines of her shoulders, her body sagging slightly. “Forgive me,” she continued, “But I share my failures to ensure that none of you must face it in the future. You may not welcome my insights, but Herald Elrond has asked all capable stonemasons to contribute to this council. And until he says otherwise, I intend to.”

The room fell silent. Halion glared at her, but something in her tone must have touched a nerve, for he gave a grudging nod.

“We present our recommendations for fortification improvements to the High King in two weeks,” he said finally. “We will allow you to share your council if it is requested.”

Elaniel nodded, her jaw set. “I look forward to your questions.”

With that, she turned and took a seat among the gathered stonemasons, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, determined to carve out her place here, no matter how many skeptical gazes she had to face.

//

Ch. 1 of 12: Between the Mountains and the Sea

Ch. 2: Mirrored

Ch. 3: Fair and Free

Ch. 4: Countless Stars

Ch. 5: Silver Shield

Ch. 6: Preparations

Ch. 7: Where the Shadows Are 🔥

Ch. 8: Long Ago He Rode Away

-> NEW >> Ch. 9: Wherever the Need is Greatest

If you enjoyed this, check out ✨The Director's Cut✨ masterlist with quick links to all of my TROP/LOTR content.

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter One

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You). F/M.

Word Count: 2100 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, Tav w/tragic backstory, graphic violence, domestic fluff, camp life, Tav has no magic/fighting ability, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

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

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

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

Chapter One - Intoxicating

“Fucking-... Piece of-... Ugh!” Your fingers burn from the friction of wrestling with your chain. You let out a guttural growl as you fall back, flat on your arse in defeat. Yep, you’re definitely stuck. The cuff makes your ankle itch and the chain doesn’t seem to have weakened. Panting, you search your cell for some form of escape to no avail. Just in the cold cobbles beneath you and the bars that cast lengthy shadows on your bruised body. Your clothes are tattered and ripped, if you can even call them clothes anymore. They leave your injuries from your perilous journey here on full display. The last thing you remember was falling, then… Floating? Then black. Now, there’s goblins everywhere and your head hurts… A lot… It really, really hurts actually…

The room begins to spin as you focus on the sensation, then you remember the creature that lives behind your eye. You shiver at the thought as the room pulses around you. It’s searching for… something? It searches for… it’s own kind. You sense it’s kin nearing your cell. The creature writhes in your skull, burning your eyes from the inside. You cry in pain, holding your head to prevent it from coming apart. “This, is the human?” A raspy, deep, feminine voice commands. You squint, attempting to pierce your vision through a wall of warped pulsations. “Y-yes ma’am. We found her by the crash site.” Another voice responds, full of gravel and apprehension. Whoever he’s speaking to, he’s afraid of her.

“Hmm… Interesting.” Your creatures connect and you feel an overwhelming urge to open your mind to the intrusion.

You see her silhouette: Thin, tall and armoured. Then, her wisteria skin and light blonde hair comes into focus. “Welcome home, True Soul.” You do not see her mouth move, nor hear the words through your ears. Instead, her voice echoes in your mind. She pokes and prods at your thoughts, prying open your defences and harvesting your memories. She smiles and pulls out of your mind abruptly once satisfied. You gasp for air as the pain finally subsides and you crumble to the floor. “It will get easier.”

“Wh-what is this? I don’t-” You speak through tears.

“Shh. It will become clear soon enough. The Absolute has plans for you. For us all.” Her words almost sounded like comfort, but there’s something wrong. When she dug into your mind, it left hers open to you. She wants something.

She scans your deteriorating rags, then glares at the goblin by her side who shivers under her gaze. “Do you have no sense?! No respect?! Find some clothes for her. Now!”

“Y-yes Minthara! Sorry! Er-” He dashes away and returns moments later, bundle in hand, he slides it through the bars, shaking.

“Thank you…” You reach for it hesitantly.

“Once she is dressed, you will bring her to me.” She walks away.

“Y-yes Minthara.” The goblin responds. He flicks his eyes back at you and gestures for you to hurry up. You nod and dress yourself, trying to conceal as much of your body as you can from the worried eyes of the goblin.

You smooth down a dress made of various pelts over your wide curves. It wasn’t well made and it certainly could have been more modest, but it fit well enough and you were grateful for the change. The gate opens and the goblin hastily releases your ankle from the chain and pushes you forward. “Move.” You obey and walk in front of him, arms behind your back as he directs you through the camp by your wrists. As you move through what seems to be a lively party, all eyes are on you. Some goblins jeer and make obscene gestures, others inspect your body from afar as they glug their ale. Choosing not to let this phase you, you dare to ask your guard a question: “What are you celebrating?”

“Raid. Good one.” Despite his bluntness and reluctance to reveal information, you hear the smile on his face in his words.

Eventually you make it to the inside of a large, run down, temple-like building. It seems the party stopped here. The grand architecture allows for various phrases, commands and even cries of agony to echo and bounce off the walls. Minthara is observing a map as you approach her. She looks up at you, briefly. “Better. Leave us.” You can’t help but admire her authority as the goblins scatter at her command. She looks back down and traces her fingers along painted roads. Curiously, you look over to find that the map contains no location that you recognise other than Baldur’s Gate. “Is this where we are?” You ask hoping that maybe you aren’t as far from home as you once thought.

“Yes. But I’m hunting for something that isn’t on this map, or any for that matter.” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks.

“That doesn’t sound easy.” You try to sympathise. Powerful allies are always useful, especially in situations such as this.

“No. Especially when all you have are dimwitted pawns at your disposal.” She spits disgust through her words, you nod and move closer to get a better look at the map. “In usual circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but I plan to make great use of you, True Soul. Your name, what is it?”

“Tav. And you are Minthara?” She nods. “You call me True Soul, what does that mean?” She grins with excitement as she gets to be the one to explain The Absolute, the tadpoles and your potential. She does so with a fierce determination in her eyes and a proud loyalty in her voice that speaks to the darker cravings of your mind. You consider that maybe this creature in your head isn’t so bad, after all. “And your hunt? Is it to serve The Absolute?”

“Correct.” She pauses to consider whether or not to reveal her intentions. “There’s a weapon. Powerful and well sought after. I am sure that it is being protected by a grove of druids somewhere in this area.” She circles a section of the map for you. “No matter how many patrols we have sent, they return with little information. Pathetic creatures.” She grumbles under her breath. Her eyes light up, she looks at you and grins.

“We have a prisoner. Though, I believe our… ‘interrogators’ lack a certain finesse. His lips remain tightly bound. I’m sure The Absolute would have a fine reward for the one who loosens them.” Her eyebrow raises as she eagerly awaits your response. Torture isn’t your usual expertise, but you can see in her eyes the excitement and even arousal at the thought of you shedding such blood for The Absolute’s cause. You deduce that her disappointment in you would have far greater consequences than the pain of a stranger.

“I understand.” Your eyes are wide as you accept this unsightly task. You stretch a smirk over your teeth in an attempt to match her enthusiasm.

“Excellent. Follow the screams, oh, and do not come back empty handed.”

You do as she commands, following the pleads for mercy until you find two goblins and a human tied to a torture device. You try to put on your most authoritative voice as you speak. “I have orders from Minthara. I’ll take over from here.” The goblins grumble, displeased with the arrangement as they open a space for you, directly in front of the stranger. You move into position and look up at him. His eyes are dry yet his cheeks are stained with tears, his cracked lips part as he whimpers softly. You approach, he scans you, unsure of your next move. And honestly, you’re unsure too. You’ve never been in a position to hurt someone, before now there was no opportunity for you to take. In fact, you have grown accustomed to the opposite, but this is different. This is… Powerful. Powerful in a way that makes your stomach churn and your heart flutter. A questionable, undefinable mix of want and need. You graze your finger over your canvas as he squirms. His fear is intoxicating.

Hot pokers sit in a brazier, you take one and hold it in front of his face, just close enough to singe hairs. “Where is the grove?” You ask him calmly, allowing the poker to emphasise the question for itself.

“F-fuck… Y-you…” His response doesn’t anger you, it frightens you. Your eyes widen as you build the courage to transform your threat into action. Your breathing becomes deeper as you try to submerge your hesitation. You muster as much command in your voice as you can, trying to hide your pleading. You do not want to hurt this man, no matter how intriguing this sensation is. “Where is the grove?”

He lets out a desperate whimper before feebly grasping onto his loyalty. “I s-said… F-fuck you.” The emanating heat travels from his cheek, down his neck, down his chest, stopping at his stomach. He gasps and desperately tries to wriggle away to no avail. You look into his eyes, searching for the key to end his torture, you find none. He screams in devastating agony, the smell of his burning flesh causes the goblins around you to salivate. You look down to find your own hand gripping the poker. Although you had prepared and felt it’s movement, somehow the choice your arm made surprised you. “Okay! Okay! Please! Stop!” You hold on a moment longer, examining the strange appendage before you as it shamelessly displays it’s power over it’s victim.

You pull away suddenly, your mind inhabiting your arm once again. The man splutters and cries, riding out the unrelenting wave of soreness. Regaining composure, you look back into his eyes. You yearned for the ability to communicate that he was not the only victim in the room, that you don’t want him to feel such pain. Then again, you suppose that would offer him little comfort. “Where is the grove?” The tears in his eyes obscure his vision until you are nothing but a blur.

“P-please…” By now he knows his pleas are useless but he continues anyway, using them as a mantra to calm himself through the pain. “No more… I beg of you…”

“Where is the grove?”

“No… I can’t be responsible for their deaths… I can’t…” In all the chaos, you hadn’t even considered the possible slaughter that Minthara had planned for the grove. If these druids are guarding this ‘weapon’, it is doubtful that they will hand it over without a fight. You can only hope that their forces are stronger than hers, for there is nothing you can do now, you need this information to protect yourself.

You spot a rusted dagger on the floor and swap it with the poker. The man flinches at the possibilities you now hold in your hand. You place the tip on the left side of his stomach, below the steaming burn. “Where is the grove?”

“No, I-” His defiance is interrupted by a shriek as the dull blade buries itself into his skin. You push. “Stop! Stop!” You look at his pained face, he looks at you, you need not repeat the question. You begin to drag the blade to the right, rust snagging on flesh, his blood leaks in irregular spasms, it is and isn’t pretty. He cries and looks at you in terror as he realises that you have no intention of stopping and his innards will soon be spilled onto the floor. He submits. He submits to you.

“P-please! I’ll tell you! Everything! Please!” You step back, removing the dagger from his body and releasing it from your grasp. Once he regains somewhat control of his breathing, he speaks again. “E-East… P-past the ruins and… The bridge. They c-covered the gate with ivy…” His head lolls in defeat and exhaustion.

You look around to find goblins staring at you in awe. Before any could compliment you on your twisted success, you nod and leave to report back to Minthara. She leans back and hungrily gazes at you as she processes the information: satisfied, impressed, fascinated. Before you know it, you’re travelling by her side, her army marching closely behind. She steals glances at you, noticing your beads of nervous sweat. You’ve never been close to a battle like this, and you’re really, really bad at hiding it. She doesn’t comment, just smirks and continues her pursuit. Together you head to the grove, to the weapon, to the East. Once again, you hope that they can handle what’s coming.

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

Next Chapter

[prettyboynapoleonsolo]

Seven Sentence Sunday

thanks for the tag, @pippinoftheshire! here's some more fluff (well, mostly fluff) from my Napoleon-goes-to-college AU:

Later, Illya finds Napoleon lying on the couch, Milashka napping on his chest, and Illya’s heart nearly bursts with love. “Peril, help, I’m trapped,” Napoleon says, pouting at Illya when he just smiles. “You could move her,” Illya points out. “I’m not a monster,” Napoleon protests. Milashka makes a displeased noise at the movement of Napoleon’s chest, and he stills, smiling gently at her. Illya has a vision of them, in a kinder world or time, where the bundle lying on Napoleon’s chest is an infant, not a cat, one with Napoleon’s hair and eyes. But Illya shakes the idea away; it is of no use to dwell on impossibilities.

no-pressure tagging @justabigoldnerd @falling-into-peril @too-young-to-fall-in-love @heytheredeann

[viperwhispered]

For the anything goes prompt: Cater to the rescue! He sees Jamil's cute younger sister with some fishy folk (including th lobster on her head?!) and decides to be an extra friendly upperclassmen.... Maybe brings Trey for back up!

(also, I'd LOVE to be added to the taglist this is SO FUN)

Thank you for the prompt, and glad to hear you've been enjoying this so far! I've certainly been having fun with this.

The 'Anything Goes' Story, part 8

The story where I write whatever you tell me to. You can find more info and the masterlist here.

“Thank you for the offer - Azul, was it? I’m quite fine though, I’m just looking for professor Crewel,” Najma said politely. However, before they could converse further, another voice spoke up.

“Heyy, Najma! Why don't you let Cay-Cay help you out if you've got a problem?”

Najma brightened when she saw the orange-haired young man with a friendly smile. A familiar face, at least, from when Jamil had brought some friends along for Al'ab Nariya.

In Najma’s hands, your lobster form was wriggling and clicking your claws. Najma was starting to worry you might fall out of the headscarf bundle soon, and hefted you up, adjusting her hold on you.

“Hi Cater! Good to see you here,” Najma greeted him, playing up their familiarity. After all, the best way to avoid any potential local swindlers was to be familiar with the locals yourself, wasn’t it?

As always, time for one of you to give me another prompt and we'll see what happens next. As always, first come first served (though no need to be shy, so far everyone's gotten their prompts in).

If you can give your prompt in the notes of this post (so reblog / reply) so that others can see if the next prompt has already been taken, all the better, though I will be updating it here anyway as soon as I see it.

Tag list:

@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@lex752 @perilous-pasta @twstgo

If you'd like to be tagged for this thing (or my writing in general), let me know.

[justabigoldnerd]

OH FUCK ITS WEDNESDAY

Trying to hold myself accountable again! 🤞💕

Here's a snippet from my Winter Fic Exchange!

The snow had formed a layer of ice that cracked and crunched with every step he took. A few snowbirds whistled happily overhead, and there were signs of rabbit and elk activity all around. Patches of mud scuffed clear by hooves rooting for grass and lichens, bundles of dry nesting material hidden in the skeletons of bushes, tell-tale pebble-like droppings. Illya was always amazed by how nature continued to thrive in subfreezing temperatures. You had to look hard for it, but what often appeared to be a frozen wasteland teemed with life. Solo and Gaby with their affinity for the equator thought of comfort as the buzz of crickets and the beating sun. Illya thought that comfort was better found in the ravens’ caw and the frost that coated every surface in silver.

No pressure tagging @huggiebird @happybean17 @falling-into-peril @heytheredeann @pippinoftheshire

@bighandsforabigheart @kcscribbler @mybelovedillya @cha-melodius @the-golden-comet

@thattripleabattery @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @vnyu73 @nicijones

@prettyboynapoleonsolo

And an Open Tag for anyone else who wants to join!! 💕💕💕

[bullet-prooflove]

Fantasy - Hasim Khaldun x Reader (NSFW)

A special birthday treat for my girl @adarafaelbarba

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @xoxabs88xox @wooshwastaken @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

It started with slow teasing hands and a mouth made for sin. Hasim’s bare skin against yours as the stubble from his cheeks brushed over your thighs. His grip tightened as you tried to move, holding you in place as his eager mouth imprinted on your skin. You tasted so good underneath his tongue, he lapped up your come like it was the sweetest fucking nectar. He pressed a butterfly kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth before his fingertips traced over your folds, soaking them before they travelled lower. His fingertip circled the rim of your asshole causing you to moan out loud.

“You still want this baby?” he rasped; his voice hoarse as murmured against your inner thigh. “Still want me to fuck you here?”

“Yes.” You drawled arching up as his finger brushed over it once more.

He penetrated you slowly, his finger filling you as his tongue flicked over your slick nub. He worked it inside of you, drawing out your pleasure and giving you just a little bit more each time. Hasim was the only man you had ever let touch you like this, the only one you had ever explored this fantasy with.

“Fuck you feel good.” He whispered, as you took him right down to the knuckle. “So tight. Imagine how good you’ll feel around my cock.”

The rough tenor of his voice, the thought of him entering you with his dick, claiming that part of you. It was a primal urge, one that you hadn’t stopped thinking about since you’d accidently stumbled across it in the book that you’d been reading.

The was pressure building in the pit of your stomach as he fucked your ass slowly, his mouth returning to your clit. His tongue flicked over that sensitive bundle of nerves before he slid lower, thrusting his tongue into your pussy. You cried out at the sensation, fingers clutching at the sheets as he moved in tandem. A wildfire was building inside of you, it seared through your synapses as Hasim pushed you to the edge, holding you there for one perilous moment.

It hit you in a rush, a thousand tiny fireworks exploding through your system all at once. You thrust down on his tongue and finger, crying out his name as you came so hard your vision tunnelled, and your ears rang. He withdrew from your body, his dexterous palms skating over your skin as he peppered your thighs with gentle kisses, his dark honied gaze sweeping up to meet your eyes as he spoke.

“Do you want to take the rest of me baby?”

Love Hasim? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[chronicallybloodless]

Heavy to Hold - Chapter 23

Pathways

Pairing: Astarion x enby!tav Status: in progress Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Genre: angst/comfort | slow burn Alternating second-person POV Contains spoilers for the whole game basically TW: it's an astarion fic: descriptions of trauma, abuse, sexual violence, etc. | smut | full tag list on AO3 Read from the beginning: AO3 | Tumblr Listen to the Playlist

You heard Astarion huff behind you. He was being offered no such assistance, but from the corner of your eye you caught him straightening his collar and adjusting the laces on his trousers. He looked uncomfortable—the sudden interruption by your companions had left him in a foul mood, his confidence shaken by the night’s events.

Read on AO3

Read on Tumblr ↓

Tav's POV

You stumbled through the forest alongside your companions, struggling to dress as you walked. Shadowheart had gathered your clothing into a bundle and was handing you an item at a time while she recapped what had happened after you left the Tiefling party the night before. You nodded as you tried to listen, hopping along on one foot while you pulled on your boots.

You heard Astarion huff behind you. He was being offered no such assistance, but from the corner of your eye you caught him straightening his collar and adjusting the laces on his trousers. He looked uncomfortable—the sudden interruption by your companions had left him in a foul mood, his confidence shaken by the night’s events.

“So, you were gone all night?” Shadowheart whispered to you through a smirk. “And how did that go?”

“It’s not what you think” You huffed.

“And just what do I think?”

“You obviously think that we were fucking the entire time.”

“And? Were you?”

She was enjoying this far too much.

“No.”

“So we didn’t walk in on you two about to go at it?“

You felt your face growing red.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I don’t owe an explanation to you.” You deflected. If you told anyone, even her, about what happened with Astarion, he’d never forgive you.

“Gods, is he that bad?” She giggled mockingly. “What do you expect from a corpse, after all?”

“Shadowheart.” You growled through gritted teeth. “Drop it.”

“I didn't realize it was so serious.” She backed down, clearing having expected you to go along with her teasing. “It’s really not that big of a deal Tav, half the camp was gone all night for…various activities.”

“Is that so?”

“Obviously. Did you think you were the only one?” She sighed. “I spent half an hour this morning treating Wyll’s burns.”

You stopped in your tracks. Wyll was just out of earshot, trying to talk to Astarion. His hands were bandaged.

“You don’t mean…?”

“He didn’t fall in the campfire.” She said knowingly.

“Damn. How the tables turn.” You mused. You wondered how they managed that without him getting completely incinerated.

“Indeed.” She nodded.

“So how did you spend your evening?”

“That’s….none of your concern.” She balked.

“Oh so you get to be nosy and I don’t?”

“Precisely.”

You were adjusting your last buckle when you arrived back at camp, where you were promptly face to chest with a Druid.

“Tav!” Halsin grinned as he approached you, arms wide and welcoming. “Good to see you are well. I was a bit worried about you after you left the party without returning for our dance.”

You heard Astarion scoff. You didn’t have to turn around to know he had folded his arms and cocked his hip in his preferred indignant stance.

“Yes well they were perfectly fine; no need for your concern, Druid.” The vampire’s tone was flat, but you could detect a hint of venom in his words. Was he jealous that Halsin wanted to dance with you?

“Of course, I’m sure that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, Tav. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” If Halsin had picked up on Astarion's hostility, he was choosing not to engage with it. “However, it does pay to be vigilant in such perilous times.”

“Right…” You weren’t really sure how to diffuse this. You needed information from Halsin, but you were preoccupied with Astarion’s feelings. Leaving him to stew in his insecurities never ended well.

“So, about the cult of the Absolute.” Halsin continued. “First of all, my sincere thanks to all of you for rescuing me, and for defending the grove from the goblin threat. This whole forest is safer with that camp dissolved, and we have you to thank for that. You righted a lot of wrongs in my absence; I am in your debt.”

“Well it’s always good to be able to lend a hand to the common man.” Wyll smiled. His level of pride in his work to protect the Sword Coast shined through.

“And it’s good to be with a fine group of adventurers who share that sentiment.” Halsin nodded warmly. “But, to move on to the problem at hand. From what I heard in the camp, your next stop should be Moonrise Towers; there’s some kind of stronghold there.”

“A tower? Sounds easy enough to find.” Gale mused.

“To find, perhaps, but to reach it presents much more of a challenge. The lands around the tower are cursed, driving men to madness or worse.” The Druid’s expression grew solemn. “There are two paths to reach it. The first would be to go through the mountains over the risen road. It can be a little dangerous, but not more than a well-equipped party can handle. It would, however, require passing over a large distance of cursed lands to reach the tower, which could present a problem. The other route would be to go through the Underdark. As I’m sure you noticed, that goblin camp was built in an abandoned temple of Selune. The adventurers I had been accompanying had learned of a passageway from that temple into the Underdark, which was supposed to lead them to a fortress deeper within, possibly with Shar worshippers inside.”

“Shar worshippers?” Shadowheart questioned.

“Dark Justiciars, from what the rumors say, defending a stronghold. Or did at one point, it seems the area may just be inhabited by Duegar by now.” Halsin nodded sagely.

“What do you think, Tav?” Wyll turned to you. “You’re from the underdark aren’t you? I feel like that would give us quite an advantage.”

“As much as I don’t want to go back to a temple of Selune, if it would lead us to somewhere that Justiciars frequented it seems worth pursuing.” Shadowheart added.

“Avoiding cursed lands does seem like a good idea. How bad can the Underdark really be?” Karlach leaded back, her posture relaxed.

“I….I’m not so sure.” You balked, trying to keep the sudden tension in your body from reaching your voice. “The dangers of the Underdark are subtle and sinister. It usually isn’t obvious you’re in danger until it’s too late.” The idea of returning to the Underdark—and potentially running in to other Drow—did not sound appealing to you in the slightest.

It had been years since you abandoned your apprenticeship and disappeared into the crowds of Baldur’s Gate. You’d heard nothing of your family since then. If they had tried to reach you in the intervening years, they had been unsuccessful, much to your comfort. But if you went back to the Underdark, the odds of another Drow recognizing the lost Szarkai “daughter” of House Despana would not play out in your favor.

“Tav, surely you’ve bested all these supposed dangers at least a dozen times already. Compared to a cursed land we know nothing about, the Underdark seems a wiser choice.” Shadowheart urged. The idea of finding dark justiciars had fully persuaded her.

“Do you know anything about what’s down there, Shadowheart?” Astarion objected. “Past experience or no, the creatures of the Underdark are not to be underestimated.”

“And creatures in a shadow cursed land would be so much better?” Lae’zel scoffed.

“Perhaps we should take a vote?” Wyll offered, eager to ease the tension.

You swallowed. It seemed clear that a vote was just going to reinforce what had already been established.

“All those in favor of traveling through the Underdark?” Shadowheart raised her hand, followed by Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Gale. You stood motionless.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to put you foot down and say no, the way you had to your family when you told them that you were never going back.

But you couldn’t find the courage. You opened your mouth to object and no words came out.

“Seems the ayes have it then.” Shadowheart nodded. The group splintered as they began to break down camp. You were still frozen where you stood.

You felt fingertips brush yours and refocused your eyes to see Astarion still standing with you. He laced his fingers with yours and stood by your side. You leaned your weight onto his shoulder.

“I’ve got you.” he whispered.

[jnrinsurance]

Big City, Big Risks: Navigating Auto Insurance in Jersey City and Brooklyn, NY

It is interesting to know that Jersey City has the 5th worst traffic congestion in the US and Brooklynites log more miles than any other borough. To keep pace with schedule, individuals often meet accidents, leaving them in lurch. In other words, driving cards in these high-risk areas can be extremely challenging. Despite the best safety measures, accidents happen. The consequences can be dangerous if car owners don’t carry adequate auto insurance in Jersey City and Brooklyn, New York. 

Driving in crowded cities is always challenging. Getting stuck in the middle of the road is a regular occurrence. Plus, seeking reimbursement from a third party for expenses feels like adding salt to the wound. Top of Form In view of these, choosing the right auto insurance is essential.

While doing so, be sure to explore several factors like location, driving history, and vehicle type. These are aspects that can have an impact on insurance premiums in Jersey City and Brooklyn. 

Plus, finding the right insurance is no easy feat. After all, they are the ones who can guide one in comparing quotes, exploring coverage options, and choosing the right insurance company for their needs. 

A Few Important Facts:

Location, location, location: Living in these high-risk areas automatically bumps up premiums. Jersey City, with its proximity to Manhattan, often sees even higher rates than Brooklyn.

Driving history whispers: Clean driving records and low mileage can bring some relief, while accidents and speeding tickets scream for higher premiums.

Vehicle vintage matters: A shiny new SUV attracts a different price tag than a well-worn sedan.

Tips for Saving Money:

For many, auto insurance is a costly proposition. But, that’s not always correct. It’s about a few tips and strategies that can help save one money. 

Shop Around: 

Never settle for a deal right away. Get quotes from multiple insurers before choosing a policy. There are thousands of insurance players in the market. Explore their products, ask for their prices, and check out the perks of their policies, and then choose the right policy that meets needs. 

Consider Usage-based Insurance: 

Usage-based insurance is a game changer. Check out offers that track driving habits and promise discounts accordingly for safe drivers. 

Bundle Policies: 

Bundling auto insurance with homeowners or renters insurance for potential savings is a good decision. 

Additional Resources: 

Include links to helpful resources, such as state insurance department websites, consumer guides, and insurance company comparison tools. 

Whether it's getting a quote, reviewing their current policy, or learning more about safe driving practices, insurance companies are all set to help. Consult expert insurance agents who can help guide in obtaining right insurance coverage for the vehicle. 

Bonus Ideas: 

Interview local insurance agents: It’s recommended to consult local insurance agents and get their insights on the specific challenges and trends in Jersey City and Brooklyn.

Check out personal stories: Meet drivers who have navigated the auto insurance landscape in these cities. Their experience and insight can be helpful in picking the right insurance solution.

Auto insurance in Jersey City and Brooklyn, New York is a necessary requirement for car owners. Driving without adequate insurance can trigger penalties and imprisonment. Right auto insurance offers significant coverage against covered perils. So, find the right insurance company and get the right insurance coverage that meets the needs and budget.

[homesteadinsurance]

Why Buy Homeowners Insurance in North Royalton and Valley City, Ohio

There’s nothing like owning a home in the heart of the charming suburbs in North Royalton and Valley City. Bustling with life and exuberance, the cities are full of promises and expectations. The beauty and serenity of the place will definitely leave individuals cherishing a thought of homeownership over swigs of morning coffee. 

While many spend a massive amount of hard-earned money into buying a home or building a haven, only a few care for homeowners insurance. Protecting the haven is of paramount importance. Go for homeowners insurance, a steadfast companion and embrace the unpredictable journey of life. 

Now, let’s explore the nuances of homeowners insurance in North Royalton and Valley City, Ohio. It’s not just about policies and paperwork; it’s about cocooning a home in a safety net that feels like a warm embrace. An investment in homeowners insurance makes inhabitation more soothing and enjoyable. 

Embracing the Essentials:

One must pay attention to the details. Homeowners’ coverage becomes the cozy shelter, shielding a home from various odds of life. Be it fire, theft, or a lighting dance in the sky, this insurance stands out as a guardian angel, ensuring coverage against all such perils. Depending on situations, one may have to consider adding some extensions to it to cover the garage, the shed, and that white picket fence. A good homeowners insurance wraps them in a protective hug. 

Let’s not forget the cherished belongings. Choose personal belonging coverage for furniture, appliances, and treasures close to heart. Considering the unexpected twists and turns in life, liability coverage is a must. It supports when someone gets hurt on one’s property or their belongings meet an accidental mishap.

Navigating the Local Insurance Landscape:

It’s essential to have a comprehensive idea about the insurance needs of the community. A lot of things come into consideration when choosing insurance coverage. Check out the weather and climate, chances of potential storms and flood, and other metrics. Assess and evaluate the area’s risk factors, such as theft, burglaries, and other criminal activities. Problems like these can disrupt the harmony of the location, making residents vulnerable. Hence, tailoring coverage in view of these hassles is essential. 

The insurance options are endless. One has to gather the right quote from the right source. Compare the price tags and check out the perks available. Decide who needs to be dealt with - independent insurance advisor or a captive agent. The choice matters most. Both have stories to share, and both can guide impeccably. Again, it’s all about choice that decides fate.

Smart Saving Strategies – A Financial Symphony:

Let’s talk about orchestrating the budget. Bundling policies is always the best option. Many insurers offer discounts, and other rewards. Check them out and see how worth they are. Adjusting deductibles is like finding that sweet spot on a musical scale – a higher note might mean a lower premium, but it should feel just right for one’s financial harmony.

Home improvements are like adding soulful tunes to the home. Beyond aesthetics, they make one’s home less of a risk to insure. Picture installing burglar alarms, deadbolts, and storm shutters as giving one’s home a little spa day – not just for looks, but for a comforting melody of lower premiums.

Safeguarding a dream home is a journey of heart, not just a task. Whether for home insurance or car insurance in North Royalton and Strongsville, Ohio, choosing the right coverage is essential. While navigating the world coverage needs, be sure to compare quotes and discounts and check out the perks available. Discuss the insurance agents about the intricacies of the insurance and learn about the nitty-gritty of the insurance coverage.

[ameba-from-space]

I hope you don't mind me asking but i just went through all of your batfam/batman recommended fics and wondered if you had more? I'm super new to the dc fandom and finding good family/friend focused fics has felt like a challenge

Bestie it's not a problem, doing these lists has been loads of fun, I'm re-reading all my favorite fanfics and rediscovering all over again why I loved them in the first place

Let us begin

Of Bats and Robins (and Families) - is it too obvious that I fucking love fanfics where the league meets bruce's kids?

dying dream - Jason finds out what changed in the cave since he was gone

Trending - Tim is a sleepy baby

hit 'em up style - Bruce Wayne vs tampons: battle of the century

falling in love (is hard on the knees) - I know this sounds like smut but I promise it's not

Anything Like Me - Louis and bruce bonding

Reservations - The kids try to set bruce up for a date. Clark mopes.

I Measure Every Grief I Meet - What if Jason was not the one who died in Ethiopia?

We Alley Kids - Jason gets recognized and returned to where he belongs

Billionaire Down - Bruce and Oliver are asshole best friends

and it comes back around - Sometimes Brucie is a hero too

Bundle of Joy - Damian is a baby. Literally

sneaking into the Batcave seemed like a good idea until a bunch of bats glare at you - Guess what bitch, it's another fanfic where the JL meets the kids

Waynes? More like Wayne-kers - The Waynes are assholes and I love them so much

A Children's Story - No better words to describe it other than what the author said "Four batkids walk into a bank"

Hearth - Angst in my rooftop tag? It's more likely than you'd think

A Touch of Concern - Cuddle piles and overprotectiveness

The Bedtime Chronicles - Bruce figures a way to make Jason go to bed

Perils of a Job - Dick gets hurt, bruce worries

what a privilege to love you (to teach you all that I know) - A fucking masterpiece, beautiful and perfect, a story about the word "dad" and what it means to the batfamily. FUCKING BEAUTIFUL GO FUCKING READ IT

Their Five (Unexpected) Dates - The kids try to get bruce set up, fucking guess how well that goes

Clark Kent Reports - Brucie Wayne my beloved

Photos - Damian's baby pictures are found, feelings happen

The Arrangement - Bruce Wayne supports sex workers

Put My Money Where Your Mouth Is - Batman hears the league talking about bruce Wayne, pranks happen

A Day in the Life: Gotham's King - Lois lane writes about bruce Wayne

children of dust and ashes - Bruce avenges Jason

...And To All, A Good Night - Happy Chrismis, merry crysler

That the Ripest Might Fall - reverse robins short story about dick and his tendency to climb chandeliers

bad people don't live in our house - Baby dick is adorable

things kept hidden - Meta!dick Grayson is a ray of sunshine

The Superman Onesie - Dick Grayson owns my heart

What would you do, if it all came back to you? - Bruce makes video diaries after Jason's death, Jason finds them

The Jason Project - Bruce finds the bucket list of a dead child and finishes it

No Matter What - Queerness? In my Dick Grayson? It's more likely than you'd think

Hi Bi, I'm Dad - Bisexuality? In my Tim Drake? Its more likely than you'd think

Dad...I’m Bilingual - Bisexuality? In my Dic... Okay you guys already got the idea

Thinking back to the Season Before - Alfred is a fantastic grandpa

Proof - The boys meet each other before ever meeting bruce

Running Headlong into My Arms - In another universe with no superheroes, bruce Wayne still finds his family

In For a Pound - What if Damian entered Bruce's life much earlier. A GODDAMN MASTERPIECE BY @cdelphiki

I walk the streets at night (with monsters in my mind) - Bruce Wayne is a dragon, his hoard? Children

The Dark Knight Strikes Back - Bruce finishes Minecraft and the boy figure out how much he changed

Bat Out Of Hell - The batfam are a bunch of weirdoes

the lost sidekick society - The obligatory group chat fic

Slumber - sleepy robin

one shot, two shots in the night - Bruce writes a memoir, it makes me cry so hard, fuck, best shit ever

a hat fashioned from tin foil - conspiracy theories straight from Gotham

Anti-Social - Social media is a blessing

Not All Kidnappings are Bad - Bruce Wayne kidnaps a kid, no biggie

I'll Make the World Safe and Sound for You - Robins and band-aids

Built Together - Pillow forts! Pillow forts!

Oh god this list is way longer than I thought it would be, anyway enjoy my rec, just so you guys know I still have 4 more pages of bookmarks

Here are the links to the other ones I made: first part second part

[kiatheinsomniac]

KINKTOBER 2022

✩*⢄⢁✧day twenty-seven: sleepy sex - Melkor | Morgoth

tag: #Tyelpëlos Kinktober Event

notes: short and mean <3

word count: 0.7k

warnings: smut, NSFW content, MDNI, sleepy sex, creampie, cockwarming, Melkor being too sleepy and mushy to be the sadist he is

You relished in these sweet moments with Melkor. None would think that he could be so tender but here you were, kept from the world and all its perils in his arms, his slow breathing tickling the top of your head where he had tucked you under his chin. You nuzzled your face closer to his chest and felt him squeeze you a little tighter as you adjusted where your leg was hooked over his, your limbs all tangled under the blankets. You let out a soft moan at the friction but didn’t chase any stimulation beyond that, more than content to simply stay in his moment. 

However, Melkor seemed to be spurred on by your little noise, turning his head down to graze his lips against the crown of your head, sighing as he held you tightly for a moment. He could be so sweet and tender when it was just the two of you and it almost made your heart burst to be in this moment with him, longing to freeze time just so that it would never end. 

“Turn over, sweet maia.” He hummed and you let out a little groan as you spun around in his arms, your back now facing him and sighing contentedly at the warmth of his body against your back, one of his arms now resting under your head while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You could feel his hips press to the softness of your ass and you let out a low hum before returning the gesture and pushing back into him. The arm over your waist withdrew enough for his hand to rest over your ribs before sliding past your hip and to your thigh, coaxing you to raise it enough for him to slip his hand into your panties, your nightdress having ridden up to your waist when you turned over. 

Sleepy, you didn’t have the mind nor the energy to quiet any of your soft moans as he touched you, the fabric in between your skin acting as a buffer. Typically, you would be aching for more but, close to sleep as you were, you were beyond content to feel any form of his touch upon you while you laid beside the warmth of his larger body. 

His name dripped from your lips as the fabric was pressed aside and his fingers were replaced with the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You let out a keen as he pressed into you and the hand that had guided his cock inside of your hole moved to help you keep your thigh raised and legs parted instead, lazily bucking into you and your inviting heat. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to allow yourself to drift off with the comforting weight and stretch of his cock within you or whether you wanted to stay awake long enough to feel him finish just to assure that he would let you cockwarm him afterwards as you both fell asleep. 

You slowly rolled your hips against his and turned to look over your shoulder just enough that you could feel his lips against your temple, hearing all of his heavy sighs and quiet moans. The arm beneath your head moved to coil around your waist from beneath you instead, thumb lovingly caressing your side as you both lazily bucked against each other, panting lightly and moaning. 

“Touch your clit for me…” He whispered as his lips pressed beneath your ear and you let your hand drift down to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, hearing a louder moan from your vala behind you as your walls squeezed him tighter. Your body already exhausted but you found yourself quickly reaching an orgasm, nothing like the overwhelming ones that would leave you in a daze like the ones Melkor would usually give you but you were filled with a pleasant, warm buzz as your orgasm milked his cock and you could feel him spill inside you as he pressed as deep into you as he possibly could. 

Your hand left your clit to reach back and hold his hip still, keeping him from pulling out of you. 

“Stay like this?” You asked in a murmur, “Please?” 

“Anything for you, my sweet maia…” He replied in a rumble against the back of your head where he had buried his face in your hair. You found yourself quickly drifting off as he set your thigh back down and held you close with his arm over your waist once more. 

☾ ⋆ﾟ  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not: 

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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[serasvictoria]

@ritual-unions-gotme asked for

Okay I picked one 😈 “I told you, you would eventually start begging” for Ubbe

First off, apologies for taking so long to fill this request. I typed out 4k in words in no time and after that it was nothing but crickets followed by some random spurts over time, but I finally finished it! Hurrah!

Title: Lose My Breath

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.315 😅

Summary: When you took a job at Lothbrok Kvinde, a porn company that’s run by Aslaug Lothbrok, you never once thought that one day you’d be working with her son, Ubbe, one of the company’s hottest commodities. Completely unbeknownst to everyone, he has played a starring role in all of your fantasies for quite some time. So the question now is, will you be able to cope when fantasy becomes reality?

Notes: Huge thank you to @punkrocknpearls for beta’ing this for me. You really helped me make this absolutely perfect ❤️

Also, this got ridiculously long (hence why it took me ages to finish this prompt) and also why I am only going to be posting this on AO3. A lot of it is backstory, which I love, and the smut is… well�� read at your own peril I guess? Not gonna lie, it’s a spicy one.

This is also in no way an accurate view of the porn industry.

Naturally on the day you were due to start filming, you were a bundle of nerves.

Aslaug had sensed it perfectly and had done her best to make you feel better. Your workload had been lessened significantly and Aslaug had given you a longer lunch break than usual, even if you had barely been able to eat anything. She had also assured you multiple times throughout the day that her son would take perfect care of you, but it hadn’t exactly helped ease your nerves.

It wasn’t the fact that soon there would be a video out there of you having sex. If you had a problem with porn videos, you wouldn’t have taken this job to begin with.

No, it was the fact that Ubbe Lothbrok was going to be the one that you would be having sex with.

The man existed on a whole other level from you. You had seen all of his movies so you were well aware of the type of women that he was usually paired up with and you definitely didn’t fit that bill. What if you were a disappointment? Or even worse, what if you didn’t manage to turn him on? He was a consummate professional, but that didn’t mean that something like that couldn’t happen.

Oh god.

This wasn’t good. You wanted to throw up, even though you had already done that about an hour ago.

Read it on AO3!

Tagging @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @whenimaunicorn @grimeundglow @istorkyou @underragingwaves @quantumlocked310

[arrantsnowdrop]

More Than Anything - Fíli x Dwarf!Reader

Request: “I would like to make a request for Fili. Where he is your husband and you get baby fever on the journey towards Erebor.”

Tags: @florachy​

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I decided to not have Kíli get shot by the arrow because that depresses me and also ended up with Fíli being the one with the case of baby fever. Hope you enjoy! :)

When you married Fíli you had also married your best friend, and there was no denying that he made every single day of your life ten times better than it would’ve been without him.

You’d grown up with him and Kíli, your father being one of Thorin’s close confidants for all manners of political issues. There was always some expectation you’d marry one of Thorin’s nephews, and though you’d always pushed back against the idea, one day Fíli had wormed his way into your heart and never left. You were truly blessed to spend every day with your best friends, and made an effort to support and stand with him at all times.

It was no surprise when you’d demanded to go with him on the journey to Erebor. It was also no surprise when Thorin, all too familiar with your dedication to following your husband into all sorts of perilous situations, begrudgingly accepted your request to join the party.

This was how you ended up in Lake-town, trying to help the company collect supplies for the rest of the way to the Lonely Mountain. While you were a fighter first and foremost, your second and far less enjoyable job was helping to mend the countless shirts and trousers the dwarves had ripped and shredded on their journey. Fighting and trekking through the woods didn’t mix well with the very limited wardrobes you brought with you. Your husband was down to one pair of completely intact pants, and the rest of the dwarves were not much better off.

When you stopped in Lake-town, your first priority was finding new material to patch up everyone’s clothes. Much to his dismay, you’d dragged Fíli along with you, insisting that the two of you would be able to carry more than just you alone.

And so Fíli had reluctantly followed you into the small shop owned by the local seamstress. He was standing awkwardly in the corner, rocking back and forth on his heels uncomfortably as you interrogated the woman behind the counter about fabric prices.

“How much do you need?” she asked skeptically, a nervous look on her face as you stacked several bundles of fabric next to the register.

“How much do you have?” you snorted, turning around and scanning the rest of the room with your hands on your hips. “I think this’ll do.”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly as you emptied a small pouch of gold onto the counter. “Alrighty then.”

You turned around and gave your husband a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes, a small grin on his face.

It was then that a small child, no more than two, toddled unsteadily out of the back room, babbling for the mother. The saleswoman grinned, giving the toddler a fond grin as she swooped them up in her arms.

“My daughter,” she clarified to you, rocking back and forth with the child sitting on her hip as she continued to count your change.

“She’s adorable,” you gushed. “How old is she?”

“Eighteen months.”

You grinned as the child reached a hand out towards you, chattering some high-pitched gibberish.

“Say hi, Delilah,” the mother cooed. Delilah made a valiant attempt.

“Your daughter is my new favorite person,” you replied, grabbing your change off the counter and turning to beckon your husband over.

You were not expecting the overwhelmingly adoring look on Fíli’s face. He was completely entranced by the child, gaze fixated on her as she inspected some toy in her hands.

You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You grinned at the faint blush on his cheeks and gestured to the fabric on the table. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Of course, my love.” He came over to help you divvy the bundles between yourselves, and with a polite goodbye to the woman, you left the shop.

“That baby was so absolutely cute,” Fíli said finally as you walked back to Thorin’s designated meeting area.

“I know!” you exclaimed. “Her little hands, oh my goodness.”

“And her eyes,” Fili said, nodding furiously in agreement. “So big. She was just inspecting all of us.”

“I loved her,” you chuckled.

“Kind of makes me want to have one myself, you know?” Fíli suggested, nudging your arm with his own. You blushed, looking over to find him already looking at you, unable to recognize the expression on his face.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “Just trying to imagine what a little you or me would look like.”

“We’d have the best looking baby,” you stated. “He or she would be even cuter than Delilah.”

“How could she not be, when his or her mother is the most beautiful dwarf in all of Middle Earth?”

Your face flushed a deep shade of red as you scrambled for an answer, him grinning widely at you spluttering. “Well…that’s just-”

“That’s just what?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at the smirk on his face. “Thanks, Fíli,” you said finally.

“Just stating the obvious, my flower."

—

There was much to do after Smaug was killed and Erebor reclaimed by Thorin. It was a time for much celebration, with the dwarves finally able to return to the Lonely Mountain (or see it for the first time in Fíli and Kíli’s case), but it was also a time for careful planning and negotiation. Luckily, Bard seemed very open to an alliance with you all, and he and Thorin had discussed the possibility of establishing a sort of trade system.

Thorin had been eager to rope his nephews into the process, trying to show them the political and social ropes since they were next in line to be in power. Unfortunately for you, that meant you saw Fíli very rarely throughout the day. Your time together was often limited to the evening, when he was often so exhausted from his work that he just fell asleep. You wouldn’t deny that you were a little lonely, but you saw the importance in what Fíli was doing and simply tried to make sure he was eating and sleeping as much as possible.

You’d been helping the other dwarves clean up the halls of Erebor, sorting through Smaug’s trove and making a map of all the different rooms and corridors.

It was late at night, and you were sitting on a balcony taking inventory of the most important treasures you’d found that day. Precious stones and jewelry…Smaug had hidden it all here in the Lonely Mountain. It was good news for you all, though - you’d be able to sell much of it and make a handsome profit.

You were just putting an oversized ruby back in its chest when you heard footsteps approaching from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Fíli entering the room. You grinned at each other warmly.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you said, happiness evident in your voice.

“Surprise,” he replied softly, enveloping you in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You sighed contentedly, leaning into him.

“How’s your uncle?” you asked, face pressed up against his shoulder.

“Stressed,” Fíli replied. “I understand why, but his stubbornness is hindering whatever progress we were making with Lake-town.”

“Hopefully he’ll settle in more soon, and then he’ll be more relaxed,” you reassured him. “And you about you?” you continued, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “How are you doing?”

Fíli let out a stressed sigh and shrugged, tilting his head so his forehead was pressed against your own. “I am trying my best, my love, though sometimes I fear it’s not enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“My uncle, albeit very negative at times, has a skill for all these aspects of leadership. Kíli and I, well, it doesn’t come as easily to us,” he said uncomfortably. “I just don’t want to disappoint uncle.” You shook your head.

“Fí, how could anyone expect you to be an amazing leader when you’ve never had to lead before?” you asked. “That’s why Thorin is doing this anyway, to show you what to do before you’ll ever have to do it.”

He frowned, thinking. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” you chuckled, rubbing his back slowly. Fíli sighed again, relaxing into you.

“Thank you, love.” You felt him turning his head as he looked around the room. “What have you been working on up here?”

“Oh, just some records,” you said nonchalantly, turning to point to the stack of papers you’d been writing on. “All the valuables we found and how much we think it’s worth, that sort of thing.”

His eyes widened as he looked at the various artifacts strewn around the room. “Smaug really was into the whole hoarding thing, huh?”

You nodded, stepping back and stretching your arms over your head. Fíli frowned as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn.

“Maybe we’re overexerting ourselves,” he said. You chuckled.

“Maybe? Oh, Fí, we most definitely are.”

Fili laughed. “I say we go to bed early tonight, and wake up late tomorrow.” “A fantastic plan,” you cheered, twirling around the room deliriously. Sleep deprivation was definitely taking a toll on you.

When you turned back around to face Fíli, you found that same wonder-filled look on his face that he’d sported that day in Lake-town. You tilted your head to the side. “What is it?”

Fíli cleared his throat, took a step closer to you. “Have you ever…you know, thought about having kids?” Your eyes widened.

“I mean sure, loads of times,” you replied, a little startled by the topic of conversation. “Why do you ask?”

“I just…we’ve never discussed it properly,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

You bit your lip. “Well, we’re married, I guess I figured it would just happen eventually when the time was right.”

Fíli chuckled and nodded, reached out and pulled you a bit closer to him. “And what if now is the time?”

You blinked once, twice. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, we just got our home back,” Fíli continued, looking up at the ceiling of the room above you. “We have Erebor, we have a place to live and raise a family. And we’d be great parents, Y/N, I just know it.”

You grinned, watching him adoringly. “We would indeed.”

“And then the other day, with that little girl in that shop,” he sighed, closing his eyes as if relishing a memory. “I just can’t stop picturing you with a child of our own. And I’ve thought about it before, but it’s never been such a persistent feeling as it is now.”

“Oh, Fíli.” Your eyes began to tear up as a wave of emotion crashed over you. Fíli met your gaze and gave you a panicked look.

“My lovely lass, what’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you sniffed, throwing your arms around his neck and wrapping him in a tight hug. You felt his sigh of relief as his hands made their way to your back.

“I want a family with you,” he murmured into your hair. “I want to make you a mother.”

“And I want that more than anything,” you replied, head whirling with visions of the two of you with your future children.