#another one in his left eye when jack carved his face

[redbleedingrose]

The Last Time ~ Azriel x Reader

A/N: LOL!! Azriel fics have long been requested and I finally decided to stop ignoring y’all. I hope that you enjoy! As always, please leave a like, comment and reblog, they mean so much to me (like more than you could know and keeps me motivated to keep putting stuff out)! 

Warnings: Uhhh Porn. Some plot but mainly porn. Like 1.4k words of porn. So 18+ NSFW! 

The scarred digits that lace around your neck squeeze tighter, stealing away the gasp of pleasure that was already slipping from between your swollen lips, his husky whisper drifting into my ear like a honeyed song, “say my name Angel, let me hear it.”  A wave of humiliation floods your already flushed and sweating face, slipping down to your pulsing core as you shake your head in denial with pursed lips, your nails digging into the forearm of the shadowsinger that is forcing you to bounce up and down his cock. A smirk lilts his dark beautiful face, his pupils completely blown, rimmed with his hazel iris’ as he watches you through half lidded eyes rock your hips back and forth fervently, the sensation of his length grinding into your gummy walls has your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. 

You grit your teeth, clenching at your jaw, trying to hold back any moans or whines from escaping. You had given him the upper hand with the gasp, but you weren’t going to let him get anything else out of you. The spymaster’s shadows swirl around your meshed bodies, slithering around your waist, down your belly and down to your throbbing clit, hazily circling around it leaving their ice cold sensation against burning hot skin. His head tosses back into the headboard with a resounding thump, biting down on his plumped and reddening lips to keep a groan from erupting, planting his feet into the mattress, jack knifing into you, meeting each of your downward thrusts with his own in a torrid effort to get you to cum first. 

All of your sensations fade, honing into how the shadowsinger is making you feel in that moment. His tattooed, carved chest heaves under you with heavy breathes, enticing you to lean forward and leave a long hot lick along the path of his sternum that results in a hard buck into you, forcing the head of his cock right into your cervix. Hot, fast butterflies flutter in your stomach down to your core, coalescing into a tightening knot with each passing thrust. Your hips grind down onto his, the knot in you growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter with every millisecond. Claw marks are left on the Illyrian warrior's forearm when you pull away to clutch at his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself before you completely fall apart. But maybe that's what he wants. Maybe he wants you to fall apart. 

Maybe he wants to destroy you. 

You wouldn’t be surprised. And you would be damned if you weren’t going to bring him down with you. This little unofficial arrangement between you and the shadowsinger had started months ago when Eris, your ‘boss’ as you called him, had assigned you to work with the Night Court to gather any information on the alliance that tied Hybern and Beron in hopes of overthrowing the current leadership of Autumn Court. This meant working hand in hand with their Spymaster, Azriel, whom you hated with every drop in your high fae blood. You couldn’t stand the way he looked at you, the way he eyed you with utter distrust, as if you had done something horrible to him like kicking his innocent puppy.  

Hours and hours spent arguing over conflicting recounts of the partnership between the High lord of Autumn and Hybern, hours and hours spent retrieving documents from one another in private inns and hostels, hours and hours of screaming harsh insults at one another had devolved into this. It had devolved into roughly fucking one another, putting all your pent up disgust and hatred into one single means to an end: a devastating orgasm. Every time, every session you had, you or he would mutter the words, “this is the last time. It won’t happen again.” And each time, you both wholeheartedly believed it. But one way or another, you or he would fall back into the pit of lust, fall back into the utter loss of control that happened with each other. But, you would never let him get the upper hand over you. So you refused to make any sounds that would indicate the slightest hint of pleasure. You refused to say his name, even in your thoughts. 

And to hell with the Cauldron, did he try to break you. 

Your nails scrape down his chest leaving irritated marks that compels the side of your eye to twitch in a glint of pride, grinning at the shadowsinger with a sense of victory that when he will leave tonight, he will return to the Night court marked with his sins. The knot feels impossibly tight, nearly ready to fracture against the tension when the male leans forward, hand releasing its hold on your neck, sliding up to your jaw and yanking you forward by your face so that his breath brushes against your lips in peppery kisses, his fingers digging into the hollow of your cheeks forcing your mouth to open. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his, confusion racking your fogged mind, the uncomfortable sensation of your jaw being forced open has your bracing forward on your knees while his other hand thumbs your clit in hard presses and strokes. 

The knot within you shatters into a billion pieces when he lifts his mouth towards you, spitting into your gaping mouth before forcing it shut, biting down harshly onto your bottom lip, drawing droplets of blood that he licks away when he grates out, “swallow Angel.” His ink hair falls forward, draping over his eyes that watch your throat bob as you take in his spit before they squeeze shut with burnt pleasure, hot ropes of his cum shooting deep inside your pulsating cunt, absolutely flooding your hole so that a ring of your mixed cream gathers at the base of his cock. You can’t help falling forward into the crook of his neck in utter euphoria, biting down on the litters of scars and black tattoos that cover the broadness of his shoulders and biceps, down to his back, chest, and even his abdomen, trying to fight down any sound other than broken gasps. You wouldn’t ever allow him to know just how good he made you feel, just how much you craved these visits, just how many countless times you had fingered your aching cunt to the thought of him, whispering his name when you fell apart. You would never allow him to know. 

Never.

And he would never let you know the utter loss of control he felt around you. 

So, when you finally catch your breath, you flex your shaking thighs that hover over his lap, latching onto the wooden headboard to lift yourself off of him and roll out of the bed. He sits up in his place, his scarred fingers tracing the mark that you had left behind, lazily watching as you calmly pace through the room of the hostel hidden deep in the Winter mountains, his shadows following you, swirling around your ankles and shins as you search for your clothes that had been strewn about when the arguing with him had decayed into the hard fucking. You couldn’t help avoiding his stunning, hate-filled hazel eyes at all costs, knowing that one look would send you crawling back into bed so that he could climb on top of you and rut into you without any resolve once more. 

A horrid sense of fury ran through you for giving into the shadowsinger, along with a strike of pride when you discovered that tonight had meant he had given into you as well. Flinging your cloak over your shoulders as you toe on your goat leather boots, you slowly turn towards the doorway, sending a small glance in his direction. He hadn’t moved a single inch besides an arched eyebrow that was directed at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips, waiting for the words he would inevitably be hit with. With the sharpest of ice clinging to every word, you mutter loud enough so that he can hear from across the room, “This is the last time shadowsinger. It won’t happen again. Ever.” You reach over to snatch the folder of classified documents resting on the side table that were meant to be taken to Eris from Rhysand, letting the door slide open. You don’t turn back as you head down the stairs, rolling your eyes with a huff when you hear an arrogant, sarcasm laced tone call out from behind, “Sure it won’t, Angel.”

Part 2??? Maybe??? One day???

Masterlist

General taglist : @nyotamalfoy  @brekkershadowsinger @kennedy-brooke @fieldofdaisiies

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster x reader #azriel #azriel acotar fanfic

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 13

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Joel Miller x f!reader

You and Joel placed your jack-o-lanterns out on the front porch and placed a fake candle in each.

"So.. who wins?" Joel asked.

You took a few steps back, glancing back and forth between the two traditional pumpkin faces. "Hmm.."

Joel joined you and folded his arms across his chest. "Mine's pretty spot on," he teased.

You huffed a laugh. "Umm.." you extended an arm and pointed your finger. "The mouth is a little crooked there on the left side."

"You nose is upside down."

You laughed out loud again. "There's no such thing as an upside down nose."

"I'm looking at one." Joel motioned to your pumpkin and he smirked when you laughed again.

"You're full of jokes tonight."

"I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve."

You playfully shoved his shoulder, and Joel leaned into you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"Well?" You asked.

"Well what?"

"I say I win."

"Even with the upside down nose?" Joel raised his eyebrows.

"It's a smaller fault than the crooked mouth," you said matter-of-factly.

The two of you stood back, shifting your eyes back and forth from one carved pumpkin to the next before Joel finally turned to you. He stared you down for a few seconds before you finally both cracked a smile.

"So.. what does the winner want?" Joel asked.

"Well.." You were beyond being coy and undid the button of his jeans before slinking up the two stairs onto the porch.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked with a nod to himself. "Well."

Joel chased you in through the door, carrying on with the playfulness that began when carving pumpkins. You let him catch you before he scooped you up off the ground where you began kissing him immediately with arms and legs wrapped around him.

You laughed some more and caught your breath, welcoming him back against you as he sat you on the kitchen counter. Joel was still chuckling against your lips and you wrapped your arms around him.

"God, I love you," you said without realizing it. A second later it registered what had just left your mouth and you stuttered. "I mean this. This.. I love this. Feeling like this.. around you.. with you."

Joel hovered a few inches back, still smirking, and seemingly not concerned by your word choice. "I know what you meant."

"I just got caught up in the moment.. having fun.. and the pumpkins and-"

He silenced your concerns with a kiss and you moaned into his mouth, making him laugh again.

"You're cute when you're nervous," he spoke against you half-open mouth . It made you giggle again as he stepped further between your legs.

You pulled him in for another heated kiss. There had been no other sexual encounters in all of your life that left you feeling so affected; so hot and heavy. You couldn't get enough of Joel.

He ran his lips across your jaw, nuzzling your neck and you arched in a way to give him whatever access he needed. As his teeth gently scraped against your sensitive skin, his experienced fingers began to unfasten every button on your tight-fitted flannel.

When the front of it came free, you shrugged one shoulder back, letting it fall off your arm and his hand snaked beneath your exposed bra to knead your breast. It was complete sensory overload.

Your hand got tangled with his, bumping into one another on the side of frantic. Keeping on with the tone of the evening you both laugh for a just a fleeting moment as you struggled to remove the last of your clothes.

When he pulled you back to the edge of the counter, connecting himself to you, your laughter vanished. Joel's hands first landed on your hips, then he slid them up your sides. He couldn't stop touching you, kissing you.

You threaded your fingers through his thick hair as your tongue fought for dominance with his as you made love. It wasn't long before you were drunk on the sensation; on the pleasure. When his rhythm finally stuttered and he cursed and groaned into your ear, you banded your arms around him to pull him close.

The heavy breaths that landed on your neck made you bite down on your bottom lip. When Joel pulled his face back you let your tongue lazily glide over his lower lip. He finished the kiss for you and you smiled against him, hugging him close.

Joel's palms pressed into the counter on either side and he bowed his head, breathing heavy still.

You began to giggle and reached into his hair to remove a lone pumpkin seed. When Joel looked back up at you, you both laughed simultaneously.

"Well.." he let out another deep exhale, "Being the loser of that contest doesn't feel so bad."

"No?" You toyed with his hair some more.

"I mean, if I won I was going to ask you to play a board game," he joked, making you laugh again.

When the room grew quiet again you sighed and looked back at him directly in the eyes again. "This has been a great night. It might be my favorite so far."

Joel maintained your stare and purposely referenced your tongue-in-cheek, word choice slip up from before. "I love this night." He tipped his mouth up in a little smirk and put a heightened emphasis on the word *love*.

You were glowing in the darkness and beamed a smile. "I love this night, too."

By the time midnight rolled around you still couldn't sleep. You didn't know what it was but for at least a half hour after Joel had drifted off you still stared up at the ceiling.

Your thoughts alternated between being self-conscious about the three accidental words you said to Joel, to reliving your favorite date night with him thus far and even feeling a tad guilty for not missing your own home.

The little place you shared with your friends has been your sanctuary for nearly two years. In the past when you dated someone and spent a night outside of your own bedroom, you often couldn't wait to get back home into your own space. Maybe that was an immediate sign that those people weren't the ones for you.

When it came to Joel, you knew you could've stayed locked away in his house indefinitely. You had no desire to leave or go home. It scared you a bit - in a good way. You did miss your friends, however; but you knew there were stints that Winnie stayed at her beau's house and you didn't see her for days on end. It was normal. You were all on the verge of entering a new stage in your lives, whether personally, professionally or both.

For a second you felt sad about that. The end of an era was creeping in and you could feel it. But it wasn't happening yet and you knew from experience that different didn't mean worse.

You had a quick reel of visions of visiting each other on holidays and being PTO moms together. It was enough to make you smile.

When you glanced back at Joel you smiled to yourself. You lightly played with his hair and rolled onto your side to leave a kiss on his temple. Prior to becoming involved in his life, everything about Joel was heavy and melancholy. You witnessed it every time he had entered the coffee shop. Seeing him so completely care free all evening and into the night made your heart feel full.

A noise from somewhere outside made your whip in the direction of the open bedroom door. You took a breath and listened, sitting partway up so you leaned on your forearms.

"Joel." You whispered his name, not wanting to wake him. Your anxiety took over. "Joel?" You gently rubbed your hand over his bare shoulder and glanced back in the direction of the door when you heard another noise.

"Yeah?" He mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"I heard something."

"It's probably the house settling." He draped an arm over you.

Another thud got his attention and Joel sat up, eying the rectangular alarm pad on the wall by the door. He threw the covers to the side and walked over to check to make sure the house was still alarmed. It was.

Joel reached for a white bathrobe that hung on the back of the door and threw it on.

You reached for a hoodie on the floor by the bed and followed him out the door. Out in the dark hallway things felt eerie and still. Nothing was out of sorts or out of place, but as you approached the staircase that cascaded down into the living room foyer, you felt your heart rate climb another notch.

Joel took the staircase slowly, one step at a time and you left a hand against the center of his back as you trailed him.

There was another alarm pad by the door and Joel lifted it to turn it off.

"Why are you doing that?" You whispered.

"So I can check outside without tripping the alarm," he said quietly and flicked on the porch light.

You grabbed his arm when he opened the door and let out a breath when you stared out onto the illuminated area.

The remnants of pumpkin were scattered across the welcome mat and splattered across the door. The faux candles were still lit. One was on the steps leading up to the porch and the other had rolled off to the left of the mat. It was like a little jack-o-lantern graveyard.

"Well that's nice," Joel said dryly. He glanced from side to side and then to you.

"I'm scared," you admitted.

Joel flicked off the light and stepped back inside, pulling you with him. "It's dumb pranks," he assured you.

"I don't know." You shook your head and Joel reset the house alarm.

"Come on." He pulled you by the hand but you pulled back and he stopped.

"Someone was at the house, Joel."

"It's kids," he insisted. "And if not then.. well.. then we're out fifty bucks for the pair of smashed pumpkins."

You sighed out loud and braced yourself against the door.

Joel extended a hand your way again. "Let's go back to bed."

"What if someone's still here."

"They're gone." He shook his head. "I bet if you go to the next few houses on the road their pumpkins are smashed too." Joel reached fully for your hand this time. "Come on. I'll clean it up in the morning."

You tried to feel as calm as Joel appeared on the surface and trusted him enough to follow him back to bed. He cradled his body around yours from behind when you slid back under the covers and you linked your fingers through his around your waist.

"Try to get some sleep," he whispered by your ear and then kissed the top of your shoulder.

You closed your eyes for a moment and then they fluttered back open. Despite Joel's calming nature, you found yourself wide awake for a long while, fighting off the heaviness that crept into your eyes before finally drifting off to sleep.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 14

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal age gap #pedro pascal x ofc #joel miller angst #protective joel #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal pictures #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x oc #joel miller fanart #joel miller x original character #joel miller tlou #halloween ends #Halloween #autumn writes #pedro pascal gif

[xawkward-ariesx]

Because it hurts

“They’re people?” “They were, until they had all their humanity taken away… All emotions removed.” “Why no emotions?” “Because it hurts.”

She thinks about that sometimes over the years. After everything. After the walls have sealed them universes apart. After she sees the Doctor one last time but only to say goodbye, to tell her that this is the end, that she can never come back. After everyone moves on and carves a space for themselves in this new world that had left a gap just for them.

She thinks about the Doctor stood before a cyberman’s head as he told her, “An old friend of mine. Well, enemy.” She thinks about the way he couldn’t distinguish between the two for a moment. She thinks about the way he’d spilt about old monsters and the world he’d burned to destroy them. She thinks about Sarah-Jane, an old friend he’d never been able to speak of. 

She thinks she understands some of that now. She wonders if he keeps silent about her the way he did Sarah-Jane. Thinks she’d understand that too. She thinks about Sarah-Jane telling her the Doctor had been called home by the Timelords, how she’d never seen him again. She thinks about the way the Doctor never talks about them; talks about the beautiful planet, the trees, the grass and the two suns it used to orbit.

She thinks about the Doctor screaming at the Nestene, trying to bargain with it even after it’s shown itself to be hostile. She thinks about the Doctor and how his pity for the Gelth had made him blind to their intents. She thinks about the way he wears his scars and if she’s one of them now, or if he keeps her hidden away with his memories of people. She wonders if he still lets his pain and his anger fuel his need to save another planet, another people. She wonders if it still burns a hole through his hand the way there’s a burning in the back of her mind.

She thinks she understands him in a way she never could before as she fights to prove him wrong. Words and numbers falling from her lips in a way that reminds her of Jack, remind her of him. Things come to her easier these days, things she’d never understood before when they’d gotten lost in techno babble back before. Before she’d gotten stuck. Before Jack had stayed behind to fix the Earth. Before they’d left him alone, despite their best intentions.

Things slot into place for her now in a way that she doesn’t understand how but comes from the golden, burning place in the back of her mind that she knows shouldn’t exist. Should be locked behind fortified doors. Shouldn’t still be glittering, but hollow and cold. Shouldn’t leak secrets of the universe into her ears. Should leave her clueless and frustrated, grasping at dead ends in a way that’s expected of a girl off a council estate that never finished her A levels. A girl that had followed a stranger to the stars and picked up a few more along the way because she hadn’t understood then; but she’d seen the same lonely shadow in him that she’d felt in herself.

But she understands things now that she shouldn’t. She understands dimensional travel. Understands the cracks in the walls and the scars in the void that never completely heal if you press just right. Understands the physics and theory better than anyone of her time period should, let alone her. Understands why monsters are easier to face than the ones you’ve lost. Understands why there had been locked doors on the TARDIS in the same way she can’t bring herself to decorate the blank room she’s found herself occupying. 

And she wonders if the fire ever burns out for the Doctor in the way the universe feels a little too heavy for her sometimes. She wonders if he sees her in the way she hears his words in her mouth. And the shadows she’d seen him seem heavier in her own eyes these days. She thinks about her mum’s words on that fateful day.

“You even look like him.” “How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah.” “You've changed so much.” “For the better.”

She thinks about how it had filled her with pride at the time. She thinks about how she’d thought she was fitting into this new world that he’d shown her. How she’d become more than just another nineteen-year-old girl from the Estates. She thinks about how she doesn’t bother to fit into this world. How she doesn’t try to force this world to make space for her where there is none. She thinks about how that sentiment has become even more true in his absence. She does look like him. From the way she carries herself to the way she carries her scars and her secrets, lets them make her someone else.

She thinks about the worlds she’s seen dying as the stars blink out of existence across reality as she fights her way back to him. She thinks about the way she’s let every single one of them harden her when she couldn’t save everyone. She thinks about the nonchalant way the Doctor had spoken of the empty Earth before the sun had swallowed it whole. She thinks she understands how he’d focused on the survival of the species of the planet living amongst the stars instead of fixating on the planet he couldn’t save. She thinks about the lone survivor of a planet with its twin suns and the little blue box that remains its planet’s only reminders of its existence after the universe moved on.

She thinks about all the people they hadn’t been able to save. About how every single one of them had burned deep inside of her, fueling a resolution to do better next time. She thinks about how the first few fires had burned her before she learned how to put up the appropriate armour up. She thinks about the Doctor and his own armour. She wonders what taught him to put walls up between himself and the fires.

But mostly she thinks about the ways the years slip by her unnoticed, despite her mortality and the way she feels as though she’s never getting any closer to what feels just out of reach. And she wonders if it’s the same for him. She wonders if his immortality weighs on him the way her humanity weighs on her. She thinks she understands now the adamant way he’d spoken of humanity and how it hurts, the way there’d been no room for argument. The conviction in his words as a man burned too many times.

#Ace writes #doctor who #doctor who drabble #DW drabble #Rose Tyler #Rose Tyler drabble #procrastination drabbles #this is unedited #dimension hopping rose #my favourite girlie is back <3 #rise of the cybermen my beloved #i havent written anything in forever and my dw inspo has been particularly absent so were taking the win #did i bash this out in one sitting immediately after seeing that gif set? yes. absolutely. thanks to the op for returning my inspo from war #im a lil scared to post this actually ive done a quick passover but i havent posted anything in forever #im supposed to be working on my lab portfolio but instead im here

[spnyouresostupid]

Suptober One Shot

So I didn't have another pumpkin picture to share, so I though I would share this one shot I wrote last year for the Harvest prompt, there's a pumpkin patch so I thought that works! (If you see this posted on AO3 under superherogrl, yes that's me it's my fic)

Suptober23 day 2 part 2 - Pumpkin Patch

Family Corn Maze Trip

Going to the farmers market was one thing, he actually got some really good stuff there and he liked talking to some of the vendors. But this...

This was one step too far.

"A corn maze? Come on Cas that's so...lame." Dean made a face at him from across the kitchen table.

"Dean, Jack's really excited about it, and you know how fussy he gets when you don't come to things like this."

"God powers, and he's gonna cry over me not wanting to get lost in a field?" He grumbled. He knew Cas was right, their 3 year old, that used to be 20 something, and is currently The God of all creation (Dean still couldn't quite wrap his mind around that) wanted Dean to come on all the little outings Cas planned. He wanted to hold Dean's hand and show Dean every little interesting rock along the way. He wanted Dean to pick him up when he got tired, (it took Dean a few months to realize that Jack didn't get tired and just wanted to be held) and just be close to him.

"Good, I'm glad you understand we'll leave at 11." Cas said standing and kissing the top of Dean's head, before going to get Jack around for the day. Dean scowled at his back, and thought in disbelief how is this my life?

*****************

"Looking at the map is cheating, Cas." Dean said after they walked into a dead end. Cas rolled his eyes.

"If you say so."

"Can you see anything up there, Bud?" Dean asked Jack, who was sitting on his shoulders.

"I see all things." He said, very matter of fact. Mostly he talked like a regular 3 year old. Then every once in while he'd say some weird shit like that.

"I meant can you see over the corn stalks." Dean tried again.

"Yeah! That way!" He shouted, pointing left.

"How is using Jack not cheating?" Cas asked in an accusing tone that Dean did not appreciate.

"It's not, because we're here for him anyway." Dean said, sure enough the end was now in sight. Cas just smiled and shook his head. Once out of the maze Dean set Jack down and he immediately ran over to where the pumpkins were. "Pick out a good one for us!" Dean called after him. Dean put his arm around Cas and he leaned his head on Dean's shoulder.

"So, pumpkin carving is okay?" Cas asked, watching Jack touch every single pumpkin in reach.

"Yeah, scary pumpkins and knives? What's not to like?"

"We are not giving Jack knives." Cas said emphatically. Even though it was impossible for Jack to hurt himself, they still tried their best to treat him like a regular kid. Then Dean spotted Jack bringing them a pumpkin almost as big as he was, carrying it with no problem. Both men rushed over and Dean took the thing from him, crouching down to speak to him.

"Hey, remember Buddy, no picking up heavy things in public." He said gently but slightly panicked. He looked around to see if anyone noticed.

"Sowy daddy." Jack said tilting his chin down like he did when he was in trouble. Dean though was focused on that one word. Cas was daddy, Dean was Dean. Jack never called him that before. He couldn't believe it. Was he daddy now too? Dean smiled so wide that it made Jack give him a big toothy grin too.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's okay. Let's buy this pumpkin and head home, alright?" He said passing the pumpkin to Cas, who also lifted it one handed like it weighed nothing.

"Yeah!" Jack reached out for Dean to carry him. He obliged, settling him on his hip and pressing a kiss to his sandy blond hair. Cas in turn pressed a kiss to his cheek and one to Dean's too.

Dean walked with his son in his arms, and Cas' arm around his waist. Dean smiled to himself and thought in awe how is this my life?

#supernatural #suptober23 #pumpkin patch #baby!jack #destiel #domestic fluff #dean winchester #castiel #ao3 #fanfic

[zacharyleigh316]

Pumpkin Eater

Suptober Prompt: Days 2 & 3 - Pumpkin Patch, Inspired | Pumpkin Eater | 1.4K | M | Read on Ao3 (or below cut)

It's no news that Sam Winchester hates Halloween, so when a hunt leaves them caked in wet, stringy squash guts, whilst standing in the remains of what used to be a glorious patch of pumpkins, he's reasonably upset. So what if Dean feels a little inspired to egg him on? Maybe he shouldn't make it so easy…

“I really hate Halloween…” Sam groaned, faced scrunched up in disgust as he painstakingly peeled pumpkin guts off of himself. 

He took a whiff of his flannel, soiled and freshly wet, and gagged, before sliding the garment off his shoulders.

“What,” Dean grinned, similarly covered, but not as moody as his little brother, “bathing in the insides of the great pumpkin king not your kind of party?”

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “Funny, Dean.”

“I dunno, I think we have enough left of this guy to make a couple of pies. What do you think, Cas?” 

Cas narrowed his eyes, glancing around the pumpkin patch they desecrated for their hunt, which had only concluded moments ago, and was, ultimately, the reason they all decided to .  

The monster they had been fighting, go figure, was ‘haunting’ the victim’s farm, and bringing the resident jack-o-lanterns to life–as if puppets weren’t already terrifying without being hordes of man eating  gourds–which in turn terrorized the locals, making this your run of the mill Halloween Town–yes, Dean made that joke, no, nobody thought it was funny (except him, of course). 

Just as Dean had the pleasure of putting the band Smashing Pumpkins to shame, by doing just that; except these were angry, possessed pumpkins, who, much to Dean’s chagrin, could care less about the music scene.

“Maybe take some of the seeds home, roast ‘em.” He suggested with an easy smile.

“I don’t think it’s wise to use these pumpkins for baking, Dean.” Cas replied, regarding Dean curiously.

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but Sam cut off the reply. 

“If I hear someone say the word pumpkin, or anything related to what just happened here, again, I swear to god I will end you.”

“You just said it though.”

Sam snapped a glare over at his brother, before storming off with a muttered, “I’ll go tell the owners the place is safe now,” leaving Dean and Cas standing in the field littered with the corpses of pumpkins.

“Well isn’t he just awfully cheery today,” Dean said sarcastically with a snort, watching his brother leave.

Once Sam was out of sight, he turned back to the carnage, and shook his head, letting out a disappointed sigh. “Damn, if only we didn’t smash all of them though. Could’ve taken a couple pumpkins home with us. Jack would’ve loved to carve them.”

Cas smiled and walked over to Dean, reaching up to pick some guts and seeds from his hair. “That would be nice, yes. How very thoughtful of you, Dean.”

Dean chuckled, brushing some chunks off the angel’s trench coat. “Naw, just thinking about what Sammy and I used to do, y’know, when it was just the two of us slumming it in motels, waiting for dad to come back.”

“Sam seems to have a very strong hatred for Halloween…”

Dean rolled his eyes, wiping off his machete with the bottom of his shirt. “He didn’t always. He used to love it. We even went trick-or-treating around the motel rooms. Dad woulda killed us, but it was worth the smile on that kid’s face. Guess I was inspired.”

“Well, I think you’re right, Dean. Jack would love to do all that, regardless of Sam’s opinion. And maybe not from this one, but I’m sure we can find another pumpkin patch, perhaps closer to the bunker, and take them there instead.” 

Cas looked around once more at the sad, smattered remains of this pumpkin patch, and let out a sigh himself. “Though hopefully we don’t have to destroy that one too.”

“I might not share the same reservations as Sam, Cas, but if we had to go through this again, I think I’d start hating Halloween too.” 

The two of them started walking back, side by side along the path, Dean grimacing at the squelching of pumpkin beneath their boots.

“It really is a friggin shame that all the pumpkins ended up being collateral damage.”

Castiel hummed, frowning down at the aftermath, at what had become of the poor man’s farm.

“But it’s monster free now, so.” Dean shrugged, and Cas turned his attention toward the hunter, the small smile returning to his face.

“And that he, and the townspeople, are now safe.”

 Dean beamed back at Castiel, green eyes twinkling with mirth. “Yeah, ‘course, Cas. That too.”

When they made their way back to the farmhouse, Sam was waiting for them out front, standing on the porch with his arms crossed, looking ever the soggy sourpuss, the bitchface still prominent on his face.

“Hope you didn’t talk to the guy lookin’ like that Sammy, like someone pissed in your wheaties.”

“Whatever, Dean. I just want to get home and take a shower. It’s going to take forever to get this stuff out, let alone the smell.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t want to smell like a yankee candle? Not a pumpkin spice bitch, Sammy?” Dean smirked, his cocky expression only growing at the umpteenth glare Sam sent him that afternoon, and the—albeit gentle—nudge to his shoulder Cas gave from beside him, which was meant to be chastising.

“I hate you.” His brother muttered, fleeing into the impala.

Dean laughed, turning to Cas with a wink. The angel only rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t tease him so much.”

“Aw, come on man, ‘m only having a little fun!”

“Yes, well, now he’s pissed off at you whilst in the car covered in pumpkin, getting it all over the upholstery.” Castiel said pointedly, looking smug now, especially as the color drained from Dean’s face and his laughter stopped. 

“Fuckin’ hell Sammy, I’ll kill you if you do anything to Baby!” Dean snapped, hurrying after his brother. 

Cas chuckled and followed closely after, at his own measly pace. When he got to the impala, the Winchester brothers were arguing, as they do. He slipped into the backseat, quietly amused by their antics, though, technically, this time he was at fault, having instigated it…but that was not of import.

“We’re all covered in it Dean! What do you want me to do, sit on the roof?”

Sam’s nostrils flared at his brother’s contemplative look, “Dean, I’m not doing that!”

“Well-“

“No, Dean-“

“You suggested-“

“I said no, Dean!”

“And I’m just saying-“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Dean threw his hands up placatingly, and turned the impala on, grinning as she purred to life. 

“Just don’t rub it in. All the gunk.” He said as an afterthought, earning a huff from Sam. 

He wasn’t going to stop being in a pissy mood anytime soon, not that Dean was really helping matters either.

“We should probably shower too, Dean, after Sam does. It does get rather unpleasant after a while.”

Dean met Cas’ eyes in the rearview mirror and smirked. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” 

Cas looked back with a fond smile, only interrupted by Sam’s groan.

“At least wait until I’m gone, please.”

“What, are you homophobic now too, Sammy? Along with being allergic to anything Halloween?” Dean’s tone was teasing, and it got the desired reaction out of Sam. 

Was he purposely poking the bear as much as he could? Absolutely hell yes, he was, and loving every minute of it. Sam was his baby brother after all; he made it easy.

“Ugh, dude, our entire lives are Halloween. It’s Halloween everyday for us. Pardon me if I’m a little sick of it by now.” 

Sam shook his head. “And I can’t decide if the unresolved sexual tension was worse, or the resolved sexual tension is, seeing as I’ve had to witness, and experience, both firsthand!”

“Don’t hate the player, Samantha.” Dean joked, and Sam grimaced.

“We all know what ‘showering’ really means to you, Dean. Walking in on you is literally the worst. Talk about a jump scare.”

Dean laughed. “Just getting in the spirit, right Cas?”

“It appears we’re only aiding in Sam’s distaste of Halloween, though, Sam, I assure you, we don’t only have sex during the spooky season.”

“Yeah, hear that Sam? We ‘don’t only have sex during the spooky season’.” Dean parroted, shoulders shaking with laughter. 

Sam groaned again, and buried his red face in his hands. “I take it all back. I’d rather be back in the pumpkin patch fighting an army of squash than having this conversation.”

Dean grinned. “Happy Halloween.”

#suptober23 #suptober day 2 #suptober day 3 #supernatural #supernatural fic #destiel #destiel ficlet #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #dean x castiel #cas x dean #deancas #ficlet #my work #canon compliant #up until the finale anyway #established relationship #nonbinary jack kline #domestic fluff

[chocoshrooms]

Oh my lord I loveyour general hcs!! Can we get some for Liu?? Pls

:: LIU WOODS GENERAL HEADCANONS ::

• i do not own the image above •

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:; liu has shoulder length light brown hair. his hair is very well kept and soft to the touch! he doesn’t do anything special to his hair either, no buns or ponytails unless if necessary, he leaves it as it is. but when he does pull his hair back on some occasions (if it’s really hot or keeps getting in his way), it frames the sides of his face perfectly

:; liu has the cutest button nose! his nose is the perfect shape and fits his face

:; his eyes are a pretty mossy green, but can change to different shades of green depending on the environment. but when Sully is in control his eyes are way darker and are a more grassy color, or a darker brown

:; liu has stitches across his right cheek, over his nose, and onto his left cheek. he also has stitches in a “jeff the killer” style around his mouth. unlike his brother though, liu keeps his stitches neat and clean, hoping one day his face will heal up completely. when nervous he does tend to pick at the stitches though, and Sully prevents any healing from happening since he likes to recut the stitches when in control sometimes. while eyeless jack stitches liu back up, he doesn’t question why they’ve been reopened, he just gets to work while liu sits silently.

:; liu also has scars on his hands, arms, chest, and some around his neck. most are faded scars but some are stitched up from constant reopening by Sully. they are the reason why liu tends to only wear long sleeves and keeps his scarf on around his neck!

:; you rarely see liu in a short sleeve, really never honestly. he’s very insecure about his scars, they remind him of so much hate. he’s usually bundled up in a hoodie or a long sleeve like stated before. his iconic scarf means a lot to him! it’s kind of like when a baby carries around their favorite stuffy or blanket, he always has it on him

:; he uses bandages a lot to cover his scars, sometimes sally will put colorful bandaids over his hands and halfway up his arms (he pulls his sleeves up for her) and he keeps them on for a while

:; liu has a lot of trauma built up inside of him. honestly, he could be more insane than his brother jeff with how much hurt he carries around

:; liu is taller than jeff, much to jeff’s disappointment. liu finds it funny

:; liu’s “other side” sully is more similar to jeff. a troublemaker, mean, snarky, and very rude. he’s even rude to liu, always downing him and making fun of him.

:; “you’re such a crybaby. suck it up, everyone has a sappy story like you.” , “no one will love you looking like this.” , “you’re pathetic.” , “like the new scar i gave you? matches the rest of your ugly skin.”

:; it’s very easy to tell when sully has taken over and best to avoid liu for a period of time just so you don’t get your feelings hurt

:; liu has his ears pierced. on the right ear he has the lobe twice, orbital, industrial, and forward helix. on the left ear he has the lobe twice, double helix beside eachother, another orbital, and daith! he keeps hoop-like earrings in all piercings besides the lobes on both sides, they’re just simple black circular earrings.

:; liu also has a nose piercing and a side labret but constantly looses the jewelry so he’s mostly seen without them!

:; he definitely wants more piercings but hasn’t put much thought into getting more just yet

:; he also wears rings on his fingers! most are just black banded rings but some have little writings on them he carved himself

:; liu is typically really quiet and keeps to himself, he doesn’t speak unless spoken to unless he’s comfortable around someone. he (of course) still speaks to jeff though (forced to by jeff honestly) but he’s usually just mumbling a conversation back while jeff rambles away. sully on the other hand bumps heads with jeff, they have started plenty of fights with eachother

:; liu has put the past behind him and tried to forget everything jeff did to him. that’s what’s worked for him for now at least. he tries not to think about it and lets jeff know he forgives him, but deep down he does have a hatred for his brother for destroying his life. he spends so much time wishing everything went differently

:; other creeps liu tends to talk to are the more quiet like him. he usually hangs around helen, puppeteer and jane, but speaks to eyeless jack when he’s around too. he doesn’t have anything against other creeps, he’s just more kept to himself!

:; liu spends most his time outside in the garden or in his room reading books, doodling, or writing music.

:; liu is definitely more feminine than most. he’s not into most of the things other creeps are into. he reads a lot of romance novels and mostly doodles animals and plants. he likes butterflies, frogs and lilly pads a lot

:; i’m sure he has a pet frog somewhere in his room and breeds butterflies from his bedroom window!

:; he does not work out but is still pretty strong. he just uses his weight efficiently when getting into a tussle. sully on the other hand, thinks he’s the strongest of the mansion. which ends with a lot of bruises and stitches

:; liu can also bake very well and is the best at making different casseroles! but he does not cook for anyone besides himself. and when he does, he’s away from the mansion so he can be alone

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THANK YOU so much for the request! i’m glad you’re liking the hc’s! <3 i do not write for liu only because i don’t know his character very well, so i hope i didn’t change him too much! i will read up more on him so i’ll be able to add him to my list that i’m confident in writing for! if you have more requests, <anyone> be welcome to send them my way! :) thanks for reading!!

#liu woods #homicidal liu #cp headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader

[znerac]

Painted Pain

MINORS DNI (18+)

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Ftm!Reader. Warning: Graphic Violence, Murder, Blood, Slight gore, Smut, Unprotected Piv, unprotected sex, Oral, creampie, praise kink, Mentions of Top surgury scars, Female Parts Word count: 4.2k Summary: After separating and losing control of the comms, Jack finds you unconscious and beaten and royally fucks up your abuser. Later on taking care of you in your healing process, and after confessing, shows you just how much he appreciates you.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor as Jack ran, Panting, and worry filling his mind. He knew splitting up was a bad idea. And after hearing your voice and comms cut out, followed with a pained scream, he knew you were in trouble. Alas that was half an hour ago, and he had cut the mission short as you were his top priority.

Jack whispered into the communicator on his ear, hearing static. Since entering the building, all sources were cut off. He couldn't contact you or Ginger Ale. He was all alone, Panicking as he worried about what was going on with you, and the guys that took you. Jack haulted around a corner, picking up rushed footsteps from down a connected hall. Quickly pulling out his Pistol, Jack whipped around the corner and shot the guards in their heads, not wanting to waste a second.

He yelled your codename, looking through various rooms and to no avail, had found any sign of you or the people that took you. And that worried him to the very core. You two had been co-workers and friends for nearly three years now. And he was not going to lose you like he lost another. He was fond of you, everyone knew it. "Ginge please.. Fuck, pick up!" he yelled, kicking a door down to see nothing but empty space. The burning rage he felt was growing, he wasn't going to take mercy on whoever took you. Especially if they laid a single finger on your body.

Jack stepped into the hallway, panting as he tipped his hat back. Scanning the doors of the hall, his eyes focused on one. A big metal door, Locked with various security measures. Although left Un-guarded. Surely this is where they were keeping you. And he ran as fast as he could there. Without a care, taking out his whip. Clicking the button that made his beauty light up electric, and used it to break the locks and pry the door open. Letting out a breath as he retracted his whip, setting it on his belt. He maneuvered through the door and quietly snook down the steps that it lead to, a cemented basement where he could hear people talking. Laughing. And sounds of skin being slapped and abused. Jacks heart pounded, leaping off the steps and taking his guns out, shooting the two bodyguards before they could react. Only then did his eyes lay on you.

You poor thing, Battered and bruised. Laying on the ground with marks of abuse on your face and arms. These men really didn't have a single human thought. And nor did Jack when he saw the man who did it to you.

He let out a growl as he took out his lasso, capturing the man and yanking him against a wall before tackling the man as he hogtied them. The abusers face hitting the cement floor with a satisfying crack. Jack could feel his arms shake, throwing his weapons across the room before flipping the man over. "Tell me, whats your name" Jack demanded, voice stern and lightly broken. His victim scrunching his brows together. "Why the fuck should i tell you!?" they yelled, and Jack smacked them across the face, before grabbing their jaw and leaning in. Noses nearly touching. "Because i want to know what name to carve into the wood of the mount your head'll be on after this" he growled, raising a fist and meeting the guys nose with it.

Fist after fist, Jack straddled the man and beat in his face. The same way your abuser did to you. Jack let out grunts as he crushed the others nose, and punched in his eyes. The man underneath him screaming and yelling at him to stop. But Jack didn't have it in him. His self control vanished the moment he saw your weak and battered body on the ground. He couldn't stop himself from crushing this guys skull in, Literally. Jack only stopped when the abusers head was unidentifiable. He stopped, hands on the mans shoulder as he looked down at his work. Frustration put into a simple act of murder. But he couldn't care less.

Jack stumbled up to his feet, turning around to see your half-lidded eyes looking at him. Weak enough that your voice wouldn't work. It broke Jack to see you so weak, his heart couldn't take it. "Oh moonshine.." he muttered, falling to your side, wiping his bloody hands on his pants before cupping your cheeks. "I'll take care o' ya.. I won't let another man lay a finger on you" he reassured, scurrying over to grab his weapons before carefully putting you in his arms. He carried you up the steps, one hand with a pistol in it to shoot whoever came near.

It took time but he got you out of the building, laid you on the grass and contacted ginger. Fuck, he was tearing up seeing his precious boy all hurt. Jack sat and maneuvered you into his lap, reassuring you that you were safe. That he was there. And nobody could ever touch you like that again. His hands gently slid over your face to feel your injuries, and held against a wound that was pushing blood out of your skull. He held you close, told you it was okay.

"Jack.." you managed to croak out, weakly holding his shirt. But he shushed you, and told you to keep your energy.

It felt like hours before the jet got here, When a few agents got out with paramedics. Jack was afraid to let go of you, but did for the medics. Shushing Agent Tequila as he quickly followed after them. The jet was silent, Jack sitting in a seat, tapping his foot anxiously. The other agents had never seen him like this before, it was foreign. And he refused to speak to anyone. Not until he knew you were okay.

"He's conscious, and we've managed to stop the bleeding" a medic said, walking out as they took off their gloves. "I noticed your knuckles were beat up good, mind if i clean those up for you?" they asked, and Jack put his hands forth to let the Medic observe and clean them up. Even bandge them. "Can i see him?" he asked bluntly, looking at the medic. Who frowned "i wouldn't recommend it but.. Yes" they replied. Jack stood up and strode into the room, sitting by your side as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

Jack waited outside, leaning against the wall. The doctors had been examining and treating your wounds. But refused to let visitors in. Champ walked over and leant next to Jack, looking over at him. "Haven't seen you like this in years, Whiskey." he said, voiding the silence. Jacks eyes lingered over to his boss, then to the floor. Champagne sucked in a breath as he stood straight, facing his worker. "Whiskey your off of field work. Two months."

Jack's eyes widened, "What? You can't do that to me" he replied, standing straight with an annoyed look. Champ pursed his lips, "Yes i can. And i am. Whiskey, I'm giving you a break to look after him" he said, glancing to the room you were in. "I know he's in trouble, and he'll need you to heal. So your off work until then" he said, nodding to whiskey. "Be happy i ain't sending you back to the scene where you caved that mans head in" he retorted, Turning on his heel and leaving. Jack sighed, looking over as the door opened and a doctor came out. "We've done what we could so far" he said, crossing his arms. Jack rose a brow. "Whats the damage?"

"Four broken ribs, A fractured wrist, Broken leg and quite likely a concussion." Jack nodded with a sad frown, "When can he be discharged?" "within a week"

so that's what happened. He visisted you daily, And when you were released he took you home and took care of you. Did everything for you despite your complaints.

"Jack, I'll be okay." you reassured, watching his face contort to disbelief as you grabbed your crutches. "Moonshine i really don't mind. I want to take care of you, i do" he said, walking forward to the bed. You laughed "i can move myself to the bathroom just fine. It was nice enough of you to pour the bath" you said, and he nodded. "Alright.. Just please call me if you need help. Help with anything" he pleaded, and you gave him a nod. "I will. I promise"

after wobbling your way to the bathroom and taking ten minutes to strip, you found yourself in the nice heat of warm water that was the bath. Soothing your aching bones and stinging lightly on the bruises you had. Sitting in the water felt like heaven, but when it came to the time you actually had to wash your hair.. You couldn't. Your wrist was in a cast and it was difficult to do one-handed. Reluctantly, you groaned and called your friends name. After a minute he knocked on the door and peaked in. "Everythin' alright there?" he asked, and you huffed. "Can you wash my hair?" you ask. And Jack steps in the room with a growing smile. "Can i?" he repeats, coming over and kneeling beside the bathtub "of course i can sweetheart, Need anything else cleaned?" he said with a wink, making you roll your eyes. "Just the hair... And maybe my back" you replied, and he nodded. "No problem sugar. Happy to help" he said, "lay back, i gotcha" he said, putting a hand on the back of your neck to support you as you drenched your hair. Helping you sit back up before he lathered his hands in shampoo and gently scrubbed it into your scalp. You hummed in appreciation, the feeling of the light massage making you sleepy.

Jack was loving this, being able to please and help you. Washing your hair felt intimate, and he loved it. Especially when you wanted to move on to have him wash your back when your hair was clean. Jack hummed, as soon as his hands met the skin of your back, he frowned. "Y'know.. The last time i ever washed the back of anyone was fifteen years ago. My wife, she was pregnant with our little boy.. Would get me to bathe her often" he mumbled, running water down your back before massaging the suds into your skin. You smiled sadly, "Hows it feel to be doin that again?" you asked curiously, and he chuckled. "It feels like the same amount of intimacy as it did then. Oddly enough. Its weird.." he replied, massaging your shoulders. His lightly calloused fingers making you groan softly as he rubbed the tense bits out. "I don't mind. Your hands feel real nice" you mumbled out, causing Jack to laugh, and soon did you.

You couldn't help the slight flush you felt rise on your cheeks. He was touching you quite intimately, which, you sort of always dreamt of him doing. It was no surprise to ginger when you told her you liked your friend. She teased you for it for months. But you never thought it would be like this. But you were sure Jack was just being helpful, not like he wanted to make you feel like this inside. Jack hummed softly, rinsing your back with water he scooped up with his hands. "I never thought I'd be doin it with a man though." he chuckles, biting his inner cheek as he slipped his hands to your sides. "Never thought I'd have interest in a guy either" he commented, making your head snap around. "What?" you asked in surprise, making jack look at you, a little surprised in himself. "No way, you're like, the straightest man on earth!" you teased with a cheeky grin, making whiskey blush with embarrassment.

"Well, with my job I've had to hook up with many individuals. Just never thought id actually like being with any of em. Let alone have any romantic interest" he said, shooting you a wink. You rolled your eyes, he was playing with you. "Right. The amount of gay sex you have is because of your job. And you so happen to want to date a target because of it" you hummed, turning back around. Jack laughed, snaking his arms around you and pulling you closer to the edge of the tub. He rested his chin on your bare shoulder. "It wasn't the sex, Darlin" he replied smugly, "i don't just like guys because of that." he spoke, hands planting on your chest. "I never thought I'd actually act on my feelin's dear. But damn.. You really have me hooked." he said, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. "You think i was talking about some target i was wantin' to date?" he teases.

A pink tints your face as he palms your chest, speaking close to your ear. Making you shiver. No way this was happening, was your friend actually into you? "Sweetheart.. I've been wantin' you since day one. Just something about you.. I wish i could explain how I'm just pulled to you. Like a magnet." he says, kissing more at your shoulder. "I saw the way you looked at me. I could see it in your eyes." he described, his lips pressing to your neck. "I've never felt this way.. Well.. In years i haven't. Please.. Can you just give me a shot? I wanna treat you right baby.. Treat you better than any guy could ever offer" he asked, hugging you from behind.

It was totally a shocker to you, Agent Whiskey, your coworker and best friend was right here asking you to be with him. Of course you couldn't say no, slumping into him. "God.. I'd love that" you hummed. Jack smiled against your skin. Jack gave you a few more kisses to your neck, doing anything else you asked for before helping you out of the tup and wrapping you in a towel. He hugged you from behind again, his arms taught nicely. Kissing at your nape. His confidence spiking between you, wanting to kiss and appreciate your body already. "I just can't resist a handsome man like you" he groaned into your shoulder, turning you around and looking down at you. Giving your eyes a glance before your lips, leaning in and connecting them.

Your body tensed, but immediately kissed back. You'd been dreaming of this moment, where'd you would be able to press your lips against him and share air. The slight tickle of his moustache on your upper lip- it was more than you could ever imagine. It was enough to spike something out of you, your tummy twisting as he held your hips. Jack was first to pull away, looking into your eyes. Biting his lip. You could see the cogs turning as he hesitated to ask something. "Spit it out cowboy" you teased, snapping him out of his trance. He looked at you, eyes untellible of what he was thinking. "I.." he started, grasping your hips a little tighter. Jack never thought he'd be nervous to ask, but it was just the affect you had on him. "I want to- show you how much i appreciate you.." he hummed, "i wanna fuck you so badly.. I just.. Don't wanna hurt ya.." he admitted. Your stomach dropped, you weren't sure if that was what you were expecting or not. You could see the panic in his eyes as you took awhile to think. "I-i'm sorry that was too soon-" he sputtered, and you shushed him. "I.. Want that" you said, making his eyes soften. "You do?" he asked, almost in disbelief. And you nodded, "i do"

Jack carefully took you to his bed, laying you down. Your stomach was building with anticipation, slick building between your thighs. You were a little hesitant to let him remove your towel, being the insecurity of your body and how unnatural it felt to have certain parts. But jack reassured you, that it changed nothing in how he felt. Still, you weren't sure if you were ready or not. Jack laid over you, kissing at your neck. He told you he'd take his time, make sure you felt comfortable before he did anything.

"Pretty boy.." he muttered, kissing at your collarbone. Whispering little praises and affirming names. Making you feel good as he kissed down your chest, his thumb tracing a scar that laid under your peck. He kissed that too, "Handsome.. Your so perfect.." he continued to praise, giving both of your scars equal attention before he gave your tummy kisses, pausing at your abdomen before looking up to make sure it was okay. With red on your cheeks, you gave him a soft nod. "M'gonna make my boy feel so good.." he said, gently grabbing your thighs and spreading them. Kissing down your v-line and your inner thighs. Whispering more praise as he went. Making you soak yourself and whimpering lightly every time he called you a good boy.

Jack looked up into your eyes as he dragged the flat of his tongue along your folds, circling around your clit. "Taste so good baby" he says, then latching that mouth of his to your heat. Sucking on your sensitive bud making you gasp out a moan, taking a fist of his chocolate brown hair. He groaned as you tugged on it, making him more desperate to fuck you just right with his tongue. Lapping up your juices and licking and sucking gently on your clit. Driving you nuts when he paused. Jack stuck his tongue through your folds, groaning as he tasted more of you. Making you moan out in pleasure as his nose prodded your clit as he went down on you. Eating you out like you were his last meal. So desperate to make you feel good. When he heard you moaning his name, he squeezed your thigh and dragged his tongue along you. Focusing now on your hardened bud, Sticking two fingers into your heat as he noticed your change in tone.

You moaned loudly at the feeling of him entering you, grasping the sheets underneath you with your good hand. Whimpering out his name as he continued to feast on you. Groaning as he felt you grind down on his fingers, curling them inside you to make you cry out. Quickly you could feel that sensation build in your tummy, Moaning out his name and tugging harder on his hair as your hips involuntarily rode on his digits. He pulled away to witness the sight, moaning. "Thats it.. Ride my fingers. Good boy" he groaned, watching as you cupped a hand over your mouth and cried out in pleasure as your orgasm took over you. Jack helped as you rode through your high, slipping his digits out of you and sticking them in his mouth. You sat in cloud nine for a few minutes, shuddering with little aftershocks. Jack rubbed your thighs and praised you. "Thats my boy.. You did so good" he said, running his hand up your side. Watching you carefully, making sure you were okay as you drifted out of your little headspace.

"Jack-" you whimpered, looking up at him with a growing smile. "Fuck.. Wow." you sputtered, letting your eyes wander over him. A pit forming in your stomach as you saw the hard tent in his pants. You forgot all about him. "Wait.. I" you shuttered, sitting up and facing him. "What about you?" you asked, holding his hips gently. Jack bit his lip. "I don't wanna hurt you darlin. I'll be fine" he stated, going to move but you stopped him. "Jack please.. I want you to feel good to. I'll be fine, i promise!" you begged lightly, playing with his belt buckle. It took him a second to think, biting his lip before he sighed. "Alright.. But I'm not goin hard on ya. Take it nice n' slow." he stated, backing up and beginning to take his shirt off. You grinned, excited to see what he had to offer. Unbuckling his belt for him, and sliding it out of the hoops. You looked up at his bare chest, undoing the button to his jeans before sliding the zipper down and revealing his boxers. Biting your lip as you hooked a finger under his boxer strap and pulling those and the jeans down. Letting his cock spring free and lewdly slap against his stomach. You let out a groan, mouth watering slightly at the sight of his hardened cock. Tip red and leaking. Shit, you did this to him?

He looked down at you, groaning as he took himself in his hand and slowly pumped his cock. "Lay down sweetheart." he demanded, watching as you complied with his order. He stroked himself a few more times before crawing overtop of you. Looking down at you with lust and affection. Jack held your hip in his hand, leaning down and kissing you passionately. Giving all he could into that simple action. Wanting to show you how much you mattered to him. You groaned, pulling away and looping your arms around his neck. "Please- Jack.. I need you"

Jack groaned at the plee, kissing at your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you real good baby, don't you worry" he hummed, positioning himself and sliding his tip through your folds, collecting your slick to lube him up. "So wet for me.. My boy just can't wait can he?" he groans, kissing below your ear. Before you could speak again, he slowly inserted himself into you. Stretching you and filling you up perfectly. Making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Jack whispered little praises as he let you adjust, kissing at your skin and sucking light hickeys on your neck. You whimpered, moving your hips to grind down on him, but he held your hips firmly against the matress. "Uh-uh.. I'm doin the work" he says, sliding nearly all the way out of you before thrusting back in, bottoming out with a groan. You whimpered into his shoulder, pleading him to go on.

By now, jack had a steady pace with his thrusts. Not quite pounding into you, but thrusting nicely and carefully. Putting your body into consideration with your injuries. You could tell he was holding back, but you couldn't say anything. He was sucking the breath out of you each time his cock bottomed out on you. Making you gasp and moan out his name. Although, with time he went faster. The sound of skin slapping on skin lewdly filling the room, along with the moans and whimpers of you both. With your already sensitive parts, you were shaking and whimpering underneath him already. "Jack- Please! Fuck- I'm close!" you moaned, feeling your tummy twist and a creeping pleasure riding in your system. Jack groaned, feeling you tense around his cock. "Go on baby.. Cum around my cock, be a good boy for me-" he said, rutting his hips against yours desperately. His eyes looking down into yours, watching as you come undone and cling onto him, crying out as your second release takes over, making you cum once again around him. Jack let out a groan, panting heavily as a moan rumbled from his chest. Feeling you tighten and clench around his cock making him closer than before. "Aah- fuck-! Please- can i cum inside of you? 'Wanna fill my boy up all nice.. Fill him with my cum.. So bad-" he stutters, and you nod your head vigorously "Please- Jack- yes- cum inside of me-" you moaned out, feeling his hips stutter and he let out a husky groan, clenching your hips and moaning next to your ear as he rutts his hips into yours, letting a thick gush of liquid spill into your heat. He let out a few moans, his grip loosening on you. Panting hard as he hovered over you. The sensation of him pulling out of you making you whimper, but the feeling of his cum dripping from your folds making you clench the sheets and shiver.

"So good baby.. You did such a good job" he praised, giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone. Rubbing your sides and hips, praising you and playing with your hair. Fuck, you couldn't get enough. Sitting there for half an hour as he treated you like a prince, before he got up to grab a washcloth and cleaned you up. Then himself, and tossed the rag to the floor and climbed into the bed beside you. Jack pulled you into his chest, still panting a little. You never exactly thought that you'd end up in this situation when you first met Jack. But now? You were glad it happened. You had weeks of healing to do, and if this, was what healing was. Fuck you couldn't get enough. Cuddling into the others chest as sleep crept into your body.

Requests Are Open!

Make sure to identify what genre you want me to write (smut/romance/angst ect) and what character you'd like!

.

#pedro pascal #Agent Whiskey #pedro pascal smut #agent whiskey smut #fanfiction #smut #kingsman the golden circle #Kingsman #agent whiskey fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #cc x reader #x reader smut #tlou #zaddy pedro #tlou smut #fanfic #requests open #smutty #smutty fanfiction #oneshot #smutty oneshot

[nocturnalghoul]

How about a sweet little smth smth with Sunny and Mountain. I am deeply invested in the idea that they're best buds and cannot be left alone together because chaos will descend.

They are such an underrated duo! I love this idea and immediately decided to get silly with it. If the formatting is wonky cause I wrote this at work then oops sorry :)

~~~~

"I dunno Mount, I think we can get it bigger." Sunny mused, looking at the now 7 foot tall pumpkin in front of them. 

They had seen a documentary about giant crop growing competitions the night before while trying to find something to watch and immediately knew they had to give it a go. Between Mountain’s general earth magic, and Sunny’s atmospheric control that came along with her magic, it seemed like the perfect way to waste a Thursday afternoon. 

To be fair, they had been high when they came up with the idea. They were high now as well, but would both argue that the two facts are completely unrelated. 

“I mean we definitely already have to have broken records. Maybe we try another veggie. I can feel this one’s got potential.” Mountain finally replied, holding up a tiny zucchini plant, only as big as his hand. “Oh come on, don’t you wanna see what a big powerful earth ghoul like yourself can manage? You have the best elemental control of anybody I know, Beanstalk. We can totally do better!” She goaded. Mountain let out a deep hearty laugh as he set the plant down and walked back closer to the pumpkin. “Yeah alright, flattery will in fact get you everywhere. Let's see what we can manage.”

With that they got back to work. Now that the two had figured out the right combination of magics thanks to the sacrifice of a few “brave little pumpkins” as Sunny called them, spread behind them, growing the current test subject rapidly was easy. The other failed experiments sat scattered throughout the field in various states of monstrous deformity or overall "explodedness", and the two couldn’t help but feel like they were cheering their pumpkin brethren on. Mountain pumped slow waves of earth magic through the now treetrunk sized vine the pumpkin was growing on, as Sunny altered the heat and sun/weather patterns around it to make the perfect growth conditions. 

After another hour, and a break to go get something to drink, the pumpkin was easily doubled in size. They both sat down on the picnic blanket they had brought with them and just stared up at their creation in awe. 

“Hey, Mount? We didn’t really think about what to do with this thing now that we have it.” Sunny began, letting her voice trail off as if she only now truly realized the reality of making a 14 foot tall pumpkin. “What do ya think is gonna happen to it?”

Mountain hummed in consideration before sat up a little straighter, eyes ablaze with something curious. “Imperator will probably tell us to get rid of it, maybe have some siblings make it into soup or stuff for the next few weeks. I’ve got an idea though.”

Sunny raised her eyebrows and looked at the earth ghoul expectantly.

“When they make us destroy it, do you wanna carve a big face into it with the chainsaw and have you, Dew, and Swiss run around and act like candles inside a giant Jack O’Lantern? We could make a whole pack bonding night out of it. Maybe let you and Dew blow it up at the end?” Mountain attempted to say as evenly as possible but failing, letting a ginormous grin overtake his face.

“I thought you would never ask.”

#nocturnal writings #nocturnal asks #askingforthesun #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #mountain ghoul #sunshine ghoulette #mountain 💙 #sunshine 💙

[saltandfire-blog]

Lucerys Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

Salt and Fire

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in - blood and salt.

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Notes: Thank you so much for reading and hope you enjoyed this beast of a chapter! I'm sorry this took longer to put out than usual, I've been trying to catch up on a lot of stuff before the holidays hit. I feel like my Aemond chapters really are the longest, but I think it's just because I enjoy his character so much. I don't like to rewrite scenes from the series, especially since I'm sure we've all read it a million times already, but when I rewatched it to see if I should include the training yard scene, I HAD too. There was actually so much Aemond/Jace tension, I couldn't not include it in the chapter where the division between them all is really starting to protrude. I'd like to apologize but I really did mean it when I tagged this was a slow burn and I hope I haven't lost too many people from all this character building. It's all important guys I promise, hang in there!

Last chapter, I was actually really surprised by the mixed reviews I received! Not that any were bad or mean, but I was definitely not expecting how unfavorably some people reacted to Luke's participation with the Pink Dread. I've always heard that if you can get your viewers emotional and invested, you've done something right. So thank you guys and all your awesome comments and feedback! Your predictions are especially fun to read.

Just a fun fact, I'd just like to mention that as Luke get's older, I see him portrayed as a young Jack Dylan Grazer from this point on when he played Eddie in IT around this time in the story. And also, Alyssa Arryn is not actually mine and belongs to G.R.R., but I did fluff up to the story a bit differently than in GoT to pertain more towards the story.

I am so thankful for any and all views I get and feel so grateful just to see people are reading. If you're feeling generous enough, please leave your thoughts!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Chapter Ten

let me down slowly.

Aemond pulled his sword back and aimed a high right, then again for another high left, his opponent, a straw man, wobbled on its stand as he practiced the sequences he and Ser Criston had gone over that morning. High right, high left, duck, turn, low left, high right. Ser Criston had warned him he was to break fast with his mother that morning and had to return to his duties as the day started, but after their last conversation Aemond had been adamant he go on ahead and leave him to practice for a while longer. He was still tempering himself, his face hot and adrenaline steaming that he could not bring himself to retreat inside just yet to start the day and it seemed Ser Criston understood this. He went over the training session he had that morning over and over in head. His sword lessons were always a reprieve from everything going on around him, but today when he'd thrown himself into their practice, he had used his sword more as an outlet and swung with all his might, putting all his pent up anger behind every swing. He had grown tired quickly but had snapped at any of Ser Criston’s warning that he would not last their whole lesson if he continued on that way.

“When can I train with steel?” he had asked instead, bringing up the same insistent argument he had been having with Cole for almost a year now.

Ser Criston put down his own practice sword, sighing before dipping his head and answered him quietly.

“When you're ready, my Prince.”

Aemond was indignant and already brooding; the same answer his father’s Kingsguard continued to give was the excuse he was looking for to snap at him.

“I'm ready now.”

“A week ago I might have agreed.”

“And now?”

“You have…much anger, my Prince, and you must learn to be cautious with it,” Cole told him. “Anger can bring forth a certain strength, it's true. But resentment loses focus. And that is when mistakes are made, Prince Aemond. If it is emotion that drives you, you must control it, or in true combat you will find it guiding your sword towards certain death.”

He did not know how else to release the storm that had been teeming inside him, and Ser Criston's scorn pressed down on his bruises even harder.

Yet it was difficult to truly throw anger towards Ser Criston when he was right.

Aemond was filled with it.

If he were a pot or a cauldron, he'd be bubbling and frothing, steaming into the air to burn anyone who tried to lift his top. At first his anger had been focally at Cole. The day after his mother and Rhaenyra had fought outside his room he was expected at the training yard. Ser Criston was not a man to change his plans and was dutiful and dependent, yet Aemond had been reluctant when his mother urged him he must uphold his commitments and did not allow him to skip lessons. Of course his mother had been quick to defend her most trusted sworn sword, remembering how she confessed to Aemond after Rhaenyra had yanked Luke from his rooms that they had heard shouting and had only meant to listen in concern.

It had been brief, but his ire had flickered towards his mother as well.

“She’s right mother,” he almost cried. “This grudge you have…”

I’m tired of being bled on…

His mother had looked at him, like what he said pained her, and she had gotten on her knees before him and took his hands in hers and swore to him she was not tampering with his letters.

“But I have allowed this friendship to carry on for too long between you two,” she told him, like what she said aggrieved her as much as it did him.

“You are so smart, my son, my cleverest. You wanted to read before you could not even walk and can do your numbers far better than any other boy at your age I've known. You are more precocious than any of my children, and you are kind, and for that I think is why you find less joy than your siblings. So I’ve let you keep this happiness that boy seems to bring you. But it must end, Aemond.”

“Why, mother? Why are you so sure-“

“Because you must realize there will be a time Rhaenyra will need to secure her throne. One day, when she is cornered and the realm seeks to crown your brother, she will need to rid herself of any challenges.”

His nails were digging into his palms and his cheek was stinging as he bit down until he could taste metallic behind his teeth while he endured to listen to the same lecture his mother had given them many times.

“Those challenges are you. You and your brothers, any sons your sister has, all will be put to the sword if Rhaenyra is allowed to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Especially if she intends to place her bastards as her heirs and bend the entire realm to such a change in tradition. You all are living, breathing reminders to all who their true ruler should be.“

“I – I don’t believe she would…she wouldn’t-”

“We cannot place all our lives on optimism, my son,” she urged, squeezing his hands. “Despite all my efforts to council your father, I fear he will not see reason before he passes Aemond. We must be ready. And you are only setting yourself up for pain, my dearest.”

She had wiped his tears even when he still protested and Ser Criston watched on without a word. He did not need to when Aemond could see it in his dark eyes. He had made it all but plain before. Ser Criston thought him weak for holding onto his friendship with Lucerys.

Before the pig, Aemond had always fought against everyone. Even when she pulled Aegon by his shirt, hissed at them so insistently that they needed to be careful around their eldest sister's children, or murmured warnings in their ears, he had stopped insisting aloud but silently believed them to be untrue. You are her greatest threat, she had always insisted. And she warned Aemond most of all. She had cautioned him many times before against this heartbreak he was sure to face if he continued his kinship with Lucerys. He had never believed her, insisting her claims could not possibly be true.

Yet here he stood, gaping and bleeding.

Because of Lucerys fucking Velaryon.

Or Waters, if he was truly done playing pretend for Luke’s sake.

Continue at A03

#aemond targaryen #fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #lucerys targaryen #westeros #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x lucerys #lucerys velaryon #lucemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #lucerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

The farmboy AU continues! Read part one here. Warning for coarse language.

Prev | Next

Jimmy didn't have a clue about half of what Scott and his grandfather were talking about while they discussed the best care for the flowerbeds, but he settled against the porch steps to whittle and was happy to listen to Scott talk all the same. Scott's face seemed brighter while he chattered about the best soil pH and sun exposures for oxeye daisies and rosebushes, and Jimmy's knife slipped and almost nicked his fingers when Scott glanced over and gave him a soft smile.

Jimmy could feel the flush creep up his neck and turned his attention back to his carving. He was just trying to decide if he should shorten the llama's ears when three riders came up the path. "Hello, sheriff," said Jimmy's grandfather to the man in front, in a level voice with all of the caution and none of the warmth it had carried in his greeting to Scott a few days ago. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The big man looked down at him from the saddle, and the deputies behind him placed a hand casually over their guns. "Oh, just making the rounds, checking up on business," he said. "Records show you ain't paid any taxes lately, Jack."

"We're not part of the mesa," said Jimmy's grandfather. "Haven't you said plenty of times, that your territory extends everywhere the terracotta does? I left Tumble Town a long time ago."

"See, I've been doing some thinking about that," said the sheriff, "and I reckon, being this close and all, that if I were to kick up some of this sorry excuse for soil then there'd be terracotta not far underneath it." His eyes traveled over the three of them and lingered on Scott. "Seems you're not doing too bad on coin if you've got a new farmhand, anyway."

"He's not a farmhand," said Jack, "just a wanderer who's helping out a little in exchange for a roof and a meal."

"A wanderer, huh?" said the sheriff. "What's your name, kid? Where you from?"

"Nowhere in particular," said Scott. His voice was casual but his back was ramrod stiff. "Was up north for a while, visited the goblin caves, explored the old ruins."

"If you don't have any further business," said Jack, taking a step to the side and partially blocking Scott from the sheriff's view, "we've still got plenty of weeding and watering to get to today."

"Look, for old times' sake, I won't even take back taxes into account," said the sheriff. "Just the ones for this year. Tumble Town's really struggling lately, and everyone's gotta pitch in if it's to keep growing."

"He already said we aren't part of your stupid town!" exclaimed Jimmy. "We're out here minding our own business, so maybe you and your thugs should do the same!"

"Jimmy," said his grandfather warningly.

"Hah!" exclaimed the sheriff sharply. "Is that how you've raised your boy to talk to his betters, Jack?" He looked at Jimmy like he'd stepped in something behind the barn. "Well, can't be helped I suppose. You can't have expected much from a little bastard your whore daughter dropped in your lap."

Jimmy's face twisted in anger and he leaped to his feet, but his grandfather put a hand across his chest. "I apologize for my grandson's behavior, sir," he said to the sheriff. "I'll have a talk with him."

"A beating would be better suited," said the sheriff, "but I doubt it would do much good." He straightened in the saddle and picked up the reins. "I'll be back in six weeks to collect your taxes. And teach that boy some manners before he winds up in my jail, or dead." He gave Jimmy another glare and Scott another considering look before wheeling his horse around and leaving, his deputies right behind him.

"Hey. Take a breath and relax," said Scott against Jimmy's ear, and his cool hand touched Jimmy's clenched fist. He coaxed the whittling knife out of Jimmy's grip and replaced it with his own hand, entwining their fingers and giving a comforting squeeze.

Jimmy's grandfather was still staring after the retreating riders. "I... I'm sorry, Granddad," said Jimmy hesitantly to the broad back before him. "I didn't mean to - "

"It's all right," said Jack, cutting him off. "We'd best get that weeding done, and I think the beets are ready for harvest." He turned around finally, and Scott dropped Jimmy's hand. "Lots to do in the next few weeks."

"What? You're not seriously thinking about paying him, are you?" demanded Jimmy. "We're not part of the mesa! It's just extortion!"

"Go clear the weeds from the wheat field," said his grandfather instead of answering his question, picking up an empty basket from the porch. "And when you're done go teach our guest what's forageable in this area like you promised."

"But - !"

Jack was already on his way to the patch of beetroot, and Scott took Jimmy's hand again. "Come on," he said. "Some of those weeds are definitely dandelions, and they'll make a great salad." He tugged lightly, and Jimmy sighed but followed him to the field.

#okay NOW I'm going to bed i promise #flower husbands #empires shipping #empiresshipping #esmp #empires smp #esmp fanfic #farmboy au #file: storm writes things

[dapper-shipping-forever]

((another out-of-context quote, as promised))

But today, there was something impersonal to the way she moved. As if their moment together had meant nothing more than a moment spent with a disposable mortal consort. As if Jacks—Chryseis’s mirror, the obsession to her horror—was nothing of note to her. 

He knew her to be without a heart, but even this was too callous of her. They were bound together with more than just heart. Their blood glittered with the same stardust, their breath in unison, their bodies magnetic for each other. She did not treat him like this. 

Jacks eyed Chryseis, leaning back in his sheets. He stretched an arm out, placed his hand on her hip before she could drift too far from him. 

“Don’t be like that,” he said, and his voice still rasped from the abuse she’d unleashed upon him.

Chryseis stilled at his touch. Her skin underneath the satin cooled Jacks’s fingertips. He wanted to feel the marble chill of it once more. 

But she gave him an emotionless look with her pale eyes, and he knew he would have to be a brat if he wished for any more of her touch. 

“Be like what?” she asked flatly. Her face looked impassive, lovely as a carved statue. 

He angled his chin. “Jealous.”

Her brow arched. A false smile lit up her lips—the expression she only attempted when she was with him, for she knew how much he loved the shape her lips made. 

He was her exception. He had to be, after what he’d done.

“Why would I be jealous?” She smiled deeper, this one more of a studied attempt at a charming grin. But the warmth—she lacked that always. 

Jacks was happy to keep it that way. 

He pressed his hand harder against her hip and he leveraged himself closer to her. She slid closer to him, accustomed to the needy weight of his hands. 

Jacks lifted his face to hers. He studied her eyes. And he smiled, unkindly—this emotion genuine in him, unlike Chryseis’s attempts. “Donatella Dragna, is it?”

A hum served her attempt at a laugh. The smile fell away as Chryseis tried to work the strings of emotions she didn’t feel. She reached for his hair, ran her fingers through the messy locks she’d been mussing moments earlier. Her fingernails scratched at his scalp. 

“Need I repeat myself? Why would I be jealous?” Her eyes glinted coldly. “She’s just another one of your mortals, Jacks. I don’t feel petty emotions. I don’t see the point to such waste.”

He leaned closer to her. This cruelty was tantalizing, as it always would be. His smile twisted from unkindness to an unbidden daze. “Heartless,” he breathed.

Chryseis leaned her head back, exposing the line of her throat. 

“Cruel,” he continued, driven onward. 

She stepped closer to the bed, her hips brushing his sheets. Satin whispered over her skin. 

“Wicked,” he whispered. “Vicious. Damned.”

A noise left her throat, somewhat close to a cat’s purr. Her hands slid to his shoulders, then along his collarbone, then the heels of her palms pressed into the column of his throat and her fingers curled lovingly about his neck like a butterfly’s wing. The bruises already there mirrored her hands. 

He spun, pivoting on his foot as he prepared to lunge forward and attack her. Her back to the wall, she steadied her hands, ready to try disarming him. 

Then it became unnecessary; a blur of a red coat and sunshine hair bodied her attacker, grabbing hold of the wrist of the hand holding the weapon. Vash growled, wrestling with the attacker while they attempted to regain control of their knife. Vash is strong, she knew that though she couldn't help but worry.

"Vash ! Watch out !" She yelled out.

Vash grunted, the attacker slippery and not letting Vash get them in any sort of hold. "Run away !" He barked, attention of his battle. "I can handle this guy !"

"What? I can't do that !" She started to charge forward; if she helped Vash pin them it'd be safer that way ! She faltered at a stinging cut across the back of her hand, blood welling and slipping out in its wake. She wasn't cut, Vash was. 

She thought to hide her hand, but as she winced her eyes locked on his. He'd spun at the exact opportune second to see her. She knew from his face; he saw the cut appear from seemingly nothing, right when his hand was sliced. The attacker struggled in his grasp, bur for a second Vash looked like he couldn't tell he was fighting anybody. He just stared, eyes big and dare she call it horrified beneath their surface, as sound faded and he realized what that meant for them. The connection they share.

The attacker knocked into Vash, and he regained his sense to redouble his efforts in the fight. "Hurry and run ! Get away, now !" He yelled again.

Gill had pride in her skills. She knew she wasn't weak, but today she would say she's a coward. The shock of knowing Vash had figured everything out had her rooted in place. But when he commanded her to run, she couldn't help herself and thought only to hide herself, running away instead of helping him.

She raced around empty streets, sand flying in her wake. She only stumbled to a stop minutes later, falling in a heap behind a broken, small wall. Her eyes stung from the sand. Except, it wasn't sand in her eyes but fat, rolling tears. They fell to ground, soaking into the sand beneath her. How foolish of her.

She pulled her knees towards her, hugging them. Her hand continued to bleed and the cut became irritated from the sand in it, but she wasn't caring. He knew now. He knew they are soulmates. He probably also realized now that she already knew and hadn't told him. He'd probably call her a liar. She wasn't sure he'd want anything to do with a soulmate who kept that stuff hidden; she couldn't picture anyone wanting something like that.

#Vash come and smooch your girl lmao #also hot damn I want to read that story asap dude 👀👀👀 #lmao #thank you 🌸 #romantic.vash #dapper answers

[drades-lair]

A Straz Halloween

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Straz

Rating: T

Striker stared at his phone with a confused arched brow, he’d sent Chaz to grab food over forty minutes ago. Striker was just about to call the shark when the motel room door opened revealing Chaz with three plastic bags in hand, two looked like the food he’d left to get however the third had two large round items in it. Chaz practically skipped through the door causing further concern to swell in Striker as normally when the shark was this excited it meant either one or both were about to get into trouble. Getting off the bed Striker headed over to help Chaz with the bags, starting to dish out the food while Chaz placed the bag with the two round objects in it on the bed then pulled the plastic bag down revealing a pair of plump ripe pumpkins however this only deepened Striker’s confusion.

“Why did Ya buy two pumpkins?” Striker asked as he placed their food on the round wooden table.

“Well, Halloween is coming up and I thought…we could…maybe…carve them,” Chaz explained, seeming a little embarrassed by his childish suggestion.

“Carvin’ pumpkins…humph, haven’t done that since I was young,” Striker chuckled.

“Does that mean you’ll carve one with me later?” Chaz asked excitedly.

“I guess…” Striker hesitantly agreed with a small smile on his face as he passed some food to Chaz.

After dinner the two of them set the pumpkins on the table then grabbed a couple knives, things progressed as you might think with pumpkin carving. A mess of pumpkin pieces and guts quickly formed on the floor till finally they were ready to reveal to one another their master pieces. Strikers was first with the simple typical jack-o-lantern face that was a little wobbly, but Chaz still beamed at seeing it prompting him to show off his own. Striker was low key impressed at Chaz’s face on his pumpkin till he realized something that made him furrow his brow in confusion.

“Um…why does it have two mouths?” Striker asked, curiously gesturing to the round mouths carved into Chaz’s pumpkin.  

“Well, you know…” Chaz trailed off, grin spreading from ear to ear as he wiggled his brows.

Striker didn’t catch on immediately, confused expression remaining plastered on his face till he heard the distinct sound of a zipper being undone. Striker’s brows flew up with wide eyes upon realizing what Chaz was eluding too before wrinkling his nose.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me!?” Striker exclaimed in disbelief as Chaz burst out into laughter.    

#Helluva Boss #HelluvaBoss #HelluvaBoss Striker #HelluvaBoss Chaz #Straz #HelluvaBoss Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Humor

[fferal-archive]

@fiddlingonthetympanic sent an ask (in September) (I am very grateful) (I wish I had the ingenuity and energy to match this):

Eventually, Krakoa spat out seasonally temperate zones; the island grew as the mainland shrank beneath the rising tide of seawater. 

They’re too tired to party all night–Krakoa’s seasonally temperate zones developing really sucks the energy out of everyone–no matter how wonderfully batshit the Thoroughfare of Masks was throughout the month, or how much of a distraction Bob-Cat needs with all his kids grubbing for candy with their other parents. The last straggling trick-or-treaters were skulking their way through the trees, many of them darting out to snatch bits of candy from colorful platters before older members of the Wild Hunt could leap out and catch them with a swipe of the claws. (That was all part of the game.) 

Woolf’s fending off Bob-Cat and Daken in the gnarled ‘doorway’ of the pod, but in that annoyed, half-hearted manner that really means ‘you’re both still getting laid.’ 

“Go–off, you two idiots!” She writhes between them, batting Bob’s clawed fingers away from the white fabric of her dress with a huff of exasperation and a gentle shove to Daken’s side. (The latter is sniffing at her. Right time of the month.) Another authoritative push sends Bob-Cat into the pod after him. “Start without me. Put the tape on or something.”

“Thanks for pulling me out of my dad-funk, you guys.” He pauses, reconsidering his  language before giving an apologetic grunt, slinging one hairy arm around Daken’s neck as the other gnaws at him like a chew toy. “‘You two’.” He gives a little sigh, a chuckle, and a laissez-faire shrug, allowing himself to be pulled deeper into the pod. “My bad. We’re never too old to check ourselves, are we?”

“Hey. Bob-cat. Blow me.” Daken’s voice faded into the background, as did the telltale swish of the Krakoan biomattress beneath their weight. 

Woolf lingers  in the doorway, breathing deep the crisp, sugary air and smoke. Ghoulish candlelight flickers from behind the carved faces of fruits, vegetables, and G-d knew what else. The laughter of children rises and falls within the shadow of the trees. ‘A good night,' she decides, reaching to brush her fingers over the warped turnip jack-o’-lanterns she’d hung outside earlier.

When she glances down, the child is there at her feet, smelling of overripe pumpkin and moldering leaves. Her eyes widen beneath the white, wide brim of her hat, a seasonally appropriate breeze rustles the hem of her dress.

Kid’s carrying a giant orange sucker, and it’ll be a miracle if they don’t choke on it before the night’s done.

Her brows draw together in an apologetic frown. “I don’t know if I have any candy left, honeybee.” 

Black button eyes gaze up at her from a burlap sack–face. They’re so–expectant that she tips back the brim of her hat and sighs. ‘How things are done,’ she realizes, then sighs. ‘Gifts for the children.’ 

“Let me get something from inside. D’you like spicy n–” A pumpkin sails past them, exploding against the trunk of a nearby tree with a wet, hollow thunk; Woolf makes a garbled sound of shock and frustration as one Raw Dog–newly reborn as a teenager, as all mutants are eventually-stops his shenanigans,  raising one hand in a not-so-apologetic wave.

“Sorry, ma’am!” A pause stretches between the three as Dog Howlett shifts. “You smell–uh– look nice tonight?”

Fire Knives raised him to be polite to women at least. She glowers at him, then darts back into the pod, briefly hissing at the men inside to ‘keep it down, there’s a kid!’ before returning with a little bag of spiced nuts from a leftover party bag, dropping it into Sack-Child’s treat basket. “Here,” she murmurs, reaching out as if to pat them on their burlap head before pulling her hand back. “Sorry. You caught me a bit late.” 

The child scurries away without a word, and she feels a weight leave her shoulders as she foils her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at the teenager vandalizing his way past.“You should have some respect for tradition, Dog,” she calls disapprovingly “The roots of this sort of thing run deep!”

Then, she leaves him to mull the importance of the old ways in favor of watching an old mummy-themed porno while eating Hunt-jerky off of washboard abs. 

“When I told you to get started, you really ran with it…”her voice fades away, and “Raw Dog” Howlett and the strange, solemn trick-or-treater are left relatively alone, one with an oversized sucker and candy bucket, the other with his general douchebaggery and disrespect for the holiday season.

A bare foot punts a jack-o’-melon like a soccer ball.“Go to bed, yo,” is all Raw Dog–whose birth name is Wild Dog–tells him, sniffing loudly and rubbing a hand over his runny nose as the sad remains of fruit rind and candle wax drips down the side of a stone ledge.“The grown-ups have things to do.”

Black button eyes glint.

___

Woolf wakes up in a pile of man-flesh in the middle of the night, her nostrils flaring at the scent of drying blood. She grunts, spitting out a mouthful of Bob’s hair even as she runs a hand along a sleek, bare thigh. (Daken’s, judging by the thick pelt of manfur.)  Blood. Too close. 

Don’t like that.

“S’mone g’see what that is,” she mumbles, less concerned about the vaguely familiar smell than its proximity to her ‘autumn-summer home.’ “Bob. Up.” At his rrroooorrwl of protest, she nudges the thigh-haver. “You. Fang. Up. No kids vandalizing my porch tonight.” 

Daken eventually does drag himself outside, muttering and bitching about family. The blood smells of Raw Dogging, you see.

So does the severed head hanging strung alongside  the turnip jack-o’-lanterns, its eyes glassy and staring, lips split wide by the bright orange sucker jammed into its mouth.

“Tell your nephew to clean up his mess!”

#fiddlingonthetympanic #( ⬛ ) save. #murder cw #blood cw #gore cw #! definitely need to write up the krakoa+ npcs #! i ADORE raw dog as a concept #! not to be confused with the original dog howlett #! i also adore this murder child #( ⬛ ) verse — krakoa+.

[silverhenderson]

Captain Morgan Jack Sparrow x Reader (Rosa Morgan)

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Reader (Rosa Morgan)

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Strong Language

Word Count: 1680

Summary: When Elizabeth is taken by Captian Barbossa Willam enlists the help of Jack Sparrow to find her. However, the infamous Captain knows he can't do it without a certain Pirate.

“Why exactly are we here?” Will asked following Jack. The two weaved through the trash and blacked-out bodies on the ground. “To get a crew Turner” the pirate responded like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Alright well why exactly are we going to this specific bar?” he responded motioning to the building they had walked up to. “Because I need a first mate,” he said calmly pushing the door open; quickly ducking as a glass bottle was thrown in their direction. Will jumped out of the way and followed Jack. “what about me?” he asked slightly offended, “listen, Mr.Turner” he said looking over at the young man “you may be the son of the great “bootstrap” but you know nothing about captaining a ship” Will grunted and looked around the room they were currently. It was gross, to say the least, drunken men everywhere. The smell of beer was nauseating, “alright then who exactly are we getting?” he said continuing to look around. “Captain Morgan” Sparrow said looking over at some woman and winking at her, she fanned her hand in front of her face. He took a beer from the bar and sat down. “THE captain Morgan?!” Will practically shouted alerting some of the people around them. Jack coughed awkwardly, he threw the mug of beer against a pillar, causing the commotion to erupt again. 

“Now because you did that go, get me some more rum,” he said and Will sighed and stood back up walking away. Almost as soon as he stood up another man took his place, “looking for Captain Morgan are you?” he said, Jack looked over at him with a small grimace on his face. He nodded, “the Captain won’t see you,” he said taking a swig of the bottle he held. “Well tell the Captain,” Jack said leaning over, “that Jack Sparrow has returned” The man laughed at his words and stood, walking away. 

Will returned and sat down, “who was that?” he asked passing the rum to him. “No one,” Jack said snatching the cup from Will and taking a swig. “Tell me,” Turner said somewhat excitedly “is he just as terrifying as they say?” Jack laughed at his words. “More like head strung, emotional and be-” the man from early walked up behind them. “The Captian would like to see you” he spat, the two men stood and followed the drunken Pirate. “Watch your tongue” Jack whispered to Will who nodded, “I’ll do all the talking,” he said calmly. The three got to a small door, the unknown man pushed the door open and allowed them to enter shutting it behind. The room was small, had an assortment of pictures, a small chair where a cat sat, and in front of them sat someone behind a desk. 

Will eyed the cat, it was black and seemed to be staring him and Jack down. Its green eye (the left seemed to have been carved out and a scar ran over it) bore into them. It hopped down and trotted over to them, rubbing itself over Will’s leg. “Hello Rosa,” Jack said, Will looked up as the person spun the seat around to face them. The woman had dirty blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, her eyes were two different colors; one brown and one blue, like Jack she wore a sailor’s hat but hers had a blue ribbon tied around it. She had three piercings on both her ears and silver rings on her hands with black nail polish. “Jack” she spat, “Ms.Morgan” 

“This is Captain Morgan?” Will said looking at Jack, “I told you to be quiet” Jack muttered not looking at him. “The one and only” she stood smiling at him, “what you expected a man?” she laughed and Will nodded sheepishly. “Captain Morgan was my father or I guess my captor” she laughed, “you can address me as Rosa,” she said bowing. “Now” she snapped looking back at Jack, “what do you want?” the cat walked over and hopped up on the desk stretching out. 

“We are on our way to-” Will interrupted, “My… my friend has been taken by Captian Barbosa and we must go get her” Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. “And how exactly does that affect me?” she said hopping up on the desk and picking up her cat. “Well we need a crew,” Jack said smiling at her, “Jack we both know my crew abandoned me on this rock some time ago” she smiled back. “Oh yes, but,” he said putting his hand up and walking over to her. Her cat slipped out of her hands. “But you’re a bright lass and I know you have managed to gain a crew” she laughed, “I guess you’re right Jacky, but why should I help you?” she said calmly. He put his hand next to her, Will watched uncomfortably.  “Because Princess” he whispered inching closer to her, she made a face at the nickname. “We both know we had loads of fun, and I need a first mate” he slowly put his hands ghosting against her face. 

“Is there a reward?” Rosa said quietly, “of course,” he said back glancing down at her, she smiled “Then alright Jackie,” she said slipping away from him before anything more could happen. She walked over to Will as Jack turned around slightly annoyed, “you have yourself a crew” she said holding her hand out to Will. He smiled and shook it, “Obi,” she said looking down at the cat who walked over, “alert the crew, we are setting sail at sunrise” The cat meowed and ran off. “I would hope you had a ship” Rosa commented looking from Obi (who had now disappeared) to Will who nodded. She clapped her hands together, “Perfect, now gentleman I have to get some rest before we leave so if you could please” she motioned to the door. Will nodded again, and the two left or more Jack being forced to leave by Will’s hand. 

Morning came rather quickly, when Jack and Will walked up from the hull the deck was already busy with many different people. “Good morning ladies,” Rosa said hopping down from the main mast. Will looked in shock, “what?” she said walking over to him; “I said we’re leaving at sunrise” she smirked, “we can’t leave your love waiting”. She walked away, Will looked at Jack, “told you she was smart” he said going to the wheel of the ship. He followed behind, “no you said she was head strung and emotional!” Jack whipped around. “I told you not to speak!” he glanced over at Rosa who was talking to one of the crewmen. Will put his hands up in defense. “Let us set sail!” Jack shouted, Rosa looked over and yelled out the same orders. Only when she said what to do the crew actually did it. Jack grumbled, “Something tells me you won’t be captain for very long” Will laughed. 

It was evening when Rosa came to Will again, he was sitting against the side of the ship looking out over the sea. “I never asked you’re named,” she said sitting next to him he looked over at her. “William Turner,” he said smiling at her, she smiled back; “your father is Bootstrap?” he nodded. “Sorry he’s a pirate” she sighed and looked out, “it’s alright” they could both hear the shouting of drunk men behind them. “If you’re a pirate why don’t you drink?” he asked, “if I’m not too bold” Will added “I don’t enjoy it,” she said calmly. “You?” 

“Not a pirate” he shrugs, “good on you” She smiled and looked at him. “Now about this ‘friend’ does she know of your feelings?” he looked at her. Sputtering Will responded, “What feelings?” she laughed at his words. “Will, no man in his right mind would go after Captian Barbossa without a ship and especially not with Sparrow over there” she motioned to Jack who was telling some false tale and drinking rum. Will sighed, “No she doesn’t” Rosa laughed a bit. “Well, now she definitely will” she smiled, “what about you?” he asked looking at her, “have some person out there?” she shook her head. “Not about the whole falling in love thing Turner, my only love is adventure” he nodded at her words. Something on her neck caught Will’s eye, it was a dark birthmark. The symbol was a sort of question mark with the dot being in the curve, and off of the line was a cursive n to an extent. 

“What about Jack?” he said still looking at the symbol, she stared into the setting sun. “Jack is nothing more than an old acquaintance of some sort” he laughed at her words. “Acuantice for sure” she looked over at him, “Mr.Turner I would watch your tongue or I may cut it out” She smiled and stood. Walking away, “Goodnight lads!” she called going to bed. Jack walked over to Will, “what did you say?” he said drunkenly, “just talked” Will shrugged. “Alright, isn’t she beautiful?” he said looking to the door she had left through. Will shrugged, “Not my thing” Rosa was nice. REALLY nice especially for being a pirate, however, Will would never go for anyone other than Elizabeth. He loved the young woman and he would be dammed if he lost her to the sea. 

“That thing on the back of Rosa’s neck,” Will said looking at Jack, “what does it mean?” Jack shrugged. “So you slept with the woman and you didn’t learn what the symbol means?” Jack scoffed at his words. “First off I would hardly say what we did was SLEEPING together” he laughed taking a swig of rum. “And second who cares? It’s not like it’ll mean anything” Will sighed and Jack’s words. He stood and looked down at the drunken pirate, “I’m going to get some rest” he said calmly before walking away and ignoring Jack’s shouts for attention. This was going to be a long trip.

#ocs #pirates #pirates of the caribbean #curse of the black pearl #Pirates of the Caribbean curse of the black pearl #jack sparrow #Jack #captain morgan #captain jack sparrow #William turner #will turner #elizabeth swann #captain barbossa #hector barbossa #Tortuga #fluff #suggestive

[fablefics]

My One and Only | Sebastian Sallow - Chapter Thirteen

Word Count (Chapter): 2565

Spoiler Warning: like the whole game idk I make a lot of references so if you don’t want spoilers just don’t read this yet lmao

This is very slow-burn, it’s gonna be a long one, strap in.

A/N - Just a little reminder if you’re like me and prefer to read longer fics on Ao3, I have posted My One and Only there as well.

The first month of the term flew by and before they knew it, Helena and Sebastian were sitting in the great hall helping Mirabel decorate for Halloween. She had grown massive pumpkins that her students helped her carve into jack-o-lanterns. Sebastian questioned if this was really an important herbology lesson and the two women argued that not every lesson had to be terribly important. Sebastian remembered the first day of class when he had taught the second years the tickling charm and realized they were right, as per usual. Helena was levitating one of the large pumpkins while Mirabel spun another one around the room to find the perfect place for it. It was the weekend, and there were a few students milling about the castle. Most of the older students had gone to Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Felix, much to the dismay of Sebastian and Helena, had returned home to see his family. They had spent every previous weekend keeping an eye on the boy but they knew he was out of their reach with his family. This meant, for the first weekend in the past month, Helena and Sebastian had free time. Helena had, of course, gone home to spend time with her beasts that morning and Sebastian had spent the morning relaxing in his room until Helena and Mirabel had appeared at his door, begging for his help.

Now, as Sebastian watched the two women argue over the perfect shade of orange for the banners, he realized he was absolutely no help and they just wanted to get him out of his room. Helena stood on her tip toes as she levitated the banner into position, it was entirely unnecessary but Sebastian found it cute. The two of them had been fairly successful in hiding their painfully obvious feelings about each other, only having a few moments of tension in which it wasn’t clear if they were going to get into a fistfight or tear each other’s clothes off. Helena chalked these moments up to stress about the first year of teaching for Sebastian, and her own concern about the safety of the repository.

“It looks beautiful in here, Mirabel,” Matilda and Professor Howin entered the hall, a jobberknoll was perched on Professor Howin’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Matilda!” Mirabel beamed at the older women. Mirabel had been the youngest professor at Hogwarts until Sebastian and Helena arrived, so the three had become very close.

“Sebastian, Helena,” Matilda turned her attention to the two of them. Sebastian was seated at the faculty table while Helena was seated on the faculty table, dangling her legs of the side of the table. She awkwardly hopped off, almost tripping over her own feet when Matilda said her name, “Ominis was asking to speak with you two when you get a chance,” Ominis hadn’t been around in a while, spending more time at the Ministry than at Hogwarts lately, “He is in the restricted section. I’m sure you two know where that is and how to get in but Madam Scribner should have left it unlocked this time. No need to be snatching any keys.”

“We’ll head there now,” Sebastian stood up and thanked Matilda for the information.

As the two left the hall, standing closer than may have been normal for two professional colleagues, Helena shot Sebastian a look, “ The Restricted Section .”

“At least we don’t have to worry about getting caught by that damned poltergeist this time,” Sebastian laughed and gently nudged Helena with his shoulder.

“Not the only time he caught us doing something we shouldn’t have been,” Helena laughed, “But the first time is always the most memorable.”

Sebastian’s face flushed at the innuendo. Helena was in a very good mood today and Sebastian appreciated it. They had quite a few awkward moments over the last month and Sebastian was happy to see that it wasn’t affecting their friendship too much. The two bantered playfully, the way they had when they were teens, all the way to the library. As they entered the library they quickly remembered to quiet themselves down before Madam Scribner reprimanded them, three years of getting shushed had stuck with them. The librarian was hovering around her desk and as soon as she saw the two of them, her face darkened. Of course, she was aware that they had returned to Hogwarts as professors but the two former troublemakers had not yet dared to darken her doorstep.

“Sebastian Sallow,” Madam Scribner came out from behind her desk to greet them, “And Helena DuPont.”

“Madam Scribner!” Helena beamed, apparently unaware of the silent rage Scribner was shooting her way.

“We were told Ominis is here,” Sebastian tried to stifle a laugh at Scribner’s irritation.

“Restricted section,” Scribner waved her hand in the direction of the restricted section, “I’m sure you two are familiar. The door is unlocked, but if I found out either of you let a student in I will make sure Professor Black is made aware.”

Helena giggled a little, and Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. The two assured Scribner that their mischief days were behind them and that they would be on their best behavior. Sebastian led the way through the quiet library. Helena glanced around at the students, most of them that their heads buried in books, and some of them even appeared to be asleep. She smiled to herself, she had fallen asleep in the library on more than one occasion, usually while she and Sebastian were studying for History of Magic. Sebastian opened the gate to the restricted section and motioned for Helena to enter first.

“Thank you,” Helena dramatically bowed, “You’re such a gentleman.”

“I do my best,” Sebastian smiled at her, “Ominis will probably be on the next floor.”

“At least we don’t have to use the disillusionment charm this time,” Helena giggled again as she descended the stairs.

“Helena, Sebastian? Is that you?” Ominis was seated at a table not far from the stairs, and he heard the two descending the stairs.

“That it is,” Sebastian pulled a chair out for Helena and sat across from Ominis. Helena noticed this small action and made a mental note to make sure Sebastian wasn’t sick when they got done talking to Ominis, he was being very polite and she wasn’t used to it.

“I believe I may have a lead on Frederick Price,” the enchanted quill Ominis used to write settled onto the table, “An auror friend of mine at the ministry spotted his group near Rookwood Castle, just a few days ago.”

“Rookwood Castle?” Helena was surprised to hear the name. Her positive mood was now quickly fading.

“Yes,” Ominis looked in her general direction, “Does that mean something to you?”

“It was the location of a repository,” Helena responded quietly, almost as if she was scared someone was listening, “But Ranrok emptied it, when Professor Fig and I found it, there was nothing there.”

“What if there was more?” Sebastian asked.

“I guess it’s possible, but I feel like I would have sensed it,” Helena sighed, “It does make sense that would be how Felix got access to the ancient magic without reaching the repository under Hogwarts.”

“We should go, look around ourselves,” Sebastian looked expectantly at Helena, waiting for her agreement. She remained quiet, wanting to hear Ominis’ opinion first.

Ominis rubbed his neck, “I have it on good authority that the Price’s are at their family home this weekend, it may be the best opportunity to search around the castle and see what they are up to. However, I doubt they left it completely abandoned, some of Price’s men are likely still there.”

“I’m sorry, Ominis,” Sebastian smirked, “Did you just agree with me?”

Helena laughed again, and Sebastian wondered if his heart would give out with all of her laughing today. The three sat there, in a moment of peaceful silence, for the first time in a long time, it was not awkward. It felt like the silence they would sit in during their fifth year when they were all studying or otherwise preoccupied. Sebastian would usually break the silence, declaring that he was bored of studying and that they should go out for a trip to Hogsmeade or get into other general mischiefs. Helena appreciated these moments of nostalgia. While they had all changed quite a bit since their fifth year, they were still the same kids at heart. She wished in that moment, that she could go back and rewrite their fifth year. She would stop Sebastian from finding the relic, get rid of Ranrok all together, and perhaps, they would have all stayed friends.

“Unfortunately,” Ominis sighed, “I did.”

“Well, looks like we’re in for an adventure then, huh?” Sebastian looked practically giddy. While he had grown to love the classroom, his true happy place was anywhere that he could kill dark wizards, “We can go tomorrow morning, gives us the whole day to track them down and see what they’re up to.”

“You two are in for an adventure,” Ominis stood up, “I have to return to the Ministry.”

“You can’t stick around one more day?” Helena pleaded Ominis to stay with a look, but Ominis was still blind, so her puppy dog eyes had no effect on him.

“I’m sorry,” Ominis sighed, “I do still have my own job to do, you know.”

“Well then, looks like it’s just us,” Sebastian smiled at Helena. She tried to ignore him, the idea of the two of them, alone, outside of the castle seemed like a powder keg that would explode the second the heat between them got to be too much.

“Just us,” Helena repeated. She was staring at Ominis to avoid Sebastian’s gaze. Ominis was looking somewhere to her right.

“Please be safe, we don’t know what you’ll be walking into,” Ominis rose from his seat, “I’ll be back sometime next week, we can touch base about whatever you find then.”

Ominis left the two sitting in now awkward silence in the restriction section. Helena kept staring at the now empty seat while Sebastian stared at her. The two of them were going dark wizard hunting, something that had both done on their own as adults, but this would be the first time since their fifth year that they would be working together. Helena could tell, even without looking at him, that Sebastian was practically giddy about the prospect. He had always been able to handle death better than she could, even when they were teenagers. For him, this was going to be a fun adventure, for Helena it was going to be a reminder of the trauma she had been subjected to for the sake of the wizarding world. While she had grown used to death, and did sometimes find herself enjoying a fight with poachers, she did not revel in the idea of doing it again.

“Well, we should prepare ourselves,” Sebastian was still smiling as he stood up and held his hand out to Helena. She took it and he gently pulled her out of her seat.

“I have some horklump juice and dittany, perhaps Sharp will let us use his potions station,” Helena said absentmindedly.

“What about the room?” Sebastian asked, “Do you think your room would still appear?”

“I doubt it but I suppose it’s worth a shot if it prevents us from having to talk to Sharp,” Helena laughed a little, trying to use humor to cope with the anxiety.

“After you, darling,” Sebastian dramatically flourished his arm in the direction of the stairs to exit the restricted section. Helena quickly walked ahead of him so he couldn’t see the red tint on her face.

The two climbed to the astronomy tower hallway where the room of requirement appeared. Helena leaned against the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, focusing as hard as she could on her old room of requirement, where she had practically lived during her time at Hogwarts. She was actually fairly certain she spent more nights on the couch in the room than in the Slytherin dormitory. Sebastian stared at the wall, frustrated, it had never taken this long for the room to show up. After what felt like hours, the stone wall suddenly began to morph into the familiar black door of the room of requirement.

“You did it!” Sebastian beamed at Helena.

“Well, I did something,” Helena felt a little anxious, worrying that the room was once again going to appear as what it thought she and Sebastian needed, rather than her old room, “I guess we’ll see when we go in.”

Helena opened the door, followed closely by Sebastian. To her relief, the room appeared exactly the same as it had for her when she was a student. Before she graduated she had released most of her beasts, keeping only Highwing with her. The room was strangely quiet without the sounds that used to come from the vivariums. Sebastian immediately made his way down the stairs to the section of the room she had used for growing ingredients and brewing potions. Helena stood in the entryway, overwhelmed with emotion, before cautiously following him down the steps.

“Lena,” Sebastian was standing by her old potting tables, “You’re a plant murderer.”

Helena stared down at her once lush plants that were now completely dead and mostly disintegrated. While Sebastian was laughing and making his way to the potions station, Helena found herself staring at the dead plants. They felt like they were mocking her, as if mimicking the way she felt inside. Cold and lifeless. She gently held a leaf of her dittany plant, one of the few to have any structure left. It turned to dust in her hand, bone dry.

“Do you have the ingredients?” Sebastian asked from the potions station.

Helena nodded and silently began to dig through her bag until she pulled out bottles of dittany leaves and horklump juice, she passed them to Sebastian and continued her perusal of the room. She ran a finger over the empty bookshelves, they were completely coated in dust. She blew the dust from her finger and turned to watch Sebastian brew the potions. He was leaning over the cauldron, his hair covering part of his face from her view. She could see the freckles that dusted his cheeks and the slight sheen of sweat that came from the steam of the cauldron. After a few moments, Sebastian confidently held up a few bottles of wiggenweld potions, finally meeting Helena’s eyes. She blushed and turned away.

Sebastian ignored the moment, hoping to keep up Helena’s relatively good mood. He passed her half the bottles with a sweet, simple smile, “It’s about time we got out of this damn castle.”

“Already sick of me?” Helena was joking, but she couldn’t meet his eyes, her nerves were setting her completely on edge.

Sebastian gently put his hand under her chin and raised her head to look at him, “Sick of you ? Darling, I could never be sick of you.”

Helena blushed furiously, pushing Sebastian’s hand away, “I’m going to go back to my room, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Helena left him standing there, alone. Sebastian stared down at the bottles of wiggenweld in his hand and wondered if he would ever be able to get it right with her.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfic #my one and only fablefics

[artemislosthunter]

Long & Lost

The idea popped into my head a long time ago, but aside from making jokes about it, I never actually did work with the concept just yet, so here, take this

Tagging: @creaturre @mocha-bunbun

~~~~

»You’re risking a lot here. « He snorted, »oh come on, I’ll be fine, I’m far enough away. « »Ian, you’re playing a dangerous game here. « »Damien, come on- « »Mom knows where you are as soon as you break through the surface. This is her realm, she can and will find you. « He rolled his eyes while letting his head fall from one side to another, »I’ll be fine, now get lost or I might just think that you worry about my safety. « He nudged his younger brother with his own elbow, not getting the expected grin in return. »Wow, someone’s grumpy. « »I’m concerned, Ian. I don’t want to be the one explaining to our siblings why their older brother is nothing but a dead accessory anymore. « »Damien, I promise I’ll be fine, I won’t get to see her and she won’t get to see me. I promise, I can take care of myself. «

He was an adult. He wasn’t stupid. He was old and clever enough to not get caught.

And he didn’t, so much was true. However he was wrong about one part. I won’t get to see her

That was what he expected. She wouldn’t notice his presence, he himself had stocked up on the potions that Jack had left for him when he left the cottage, the ones masking his presence, hiding it behind the one of a regular human. Sure the potions weren’t perfect - his brother did find him in the tavern with little help and the looks that both Lydia and Kaya had given him were something he only pretended to not notice - but they worked well enough that she wouldn’t notice him during the ride.

If that would work was something he only knew in theory, they hadn’t left the docks yet, though that didn’t stop him from staring back at her face.

Years had passed by, he had grown from a child into a young adult, forgot so many things about his home, yet never enough for her to stop tormenting him in his nightmares. And here she was, gazing into the distance as if nothing had ever happened.

His throat was dry and the voices around him were dull, too far away for them to reach him. All he could focus on were the carefully carved wooden features. Her eyes, unable to move, yet it felt like their gaze was burning his skin, staring right back at him, mocking him for being so careless. The full lips, curved into a smile. A smile he had seen far too often, accompanied by the coldest gaze you had ever seen; one that send grown men chills down their spine and let the hair on their arms and neck stand up in fear.

He knew that face, he had seen it far too many times. This was not a mixup, this was not a coincidence. It really was her.

Ian closed his eyes, licked over his dry lips and swallowed. Once. Twice.

Then he averted his gaze, eyes scanning over his companions, before he found what he had been looking for. He took a deep breath, straightened his posture and walked over to the rest of them, making his way through the crowd of teenagers and young adults, carefully navigating through it so none of them would end up in the water. »Excuse me? Sir, sir uh- « »Elrod. « »Elrod, right, pardon my curiousity, but uh- « he glanced over his shoulder and pointed at the figurehead of the boat that the sailor offered them, »who is that woman portrayed over there? « He turned back around, offering a polite smile to the adult, trying his best to ignore the shiver that was still running down his spine. What was she doing there, she shouldn’t be there. No living human being knew for sure about her existence, why was she portrayed and displayed here so openly?

The sailor didn’t seem fazed by his question, he only leaned to the side, inspected the figurehead for a second and then let out a laugh. »That’s Kailani. « »Who? « »Reyna Kailani. She was one of our crewmates for a while, after she survived a siren attack. « »A what- « »A siren attack! We barely escaped it and her ship turned into the target instead. Amarin found her unconscious in the water and we took her in. « The sailor crossed his arms and chuckled to himself while he shook his head. »Such a sweet woman, but such a poor thing … « »Why? What do you mean? « He gave up on cover stories for his curiosity, but the sailor didn’t seem to mind. »She disappeared 19 years ago with her husband and newly born child. « »What- « 

She disappeared 19 years ago with her husband and newly born child.

»Some people say it’s untrue but, « he leaned forward and made a waving gesture, signaling Ian to lean closer too, »there are rumors that the sirens took revenge. « His chest felt tight. »Revenge? « The sailor nodded. »The house looked like it had experienced a flood. The first floor was filled with water up to your knees and all three of them were gone without a trace and no one has ever seen them again. «

His head started to spin.

»And who created the figurehead? « A familiar voice made him raise his head, causing him to look right at Jack who was leaning over the boats railing. »Her husband and his friend. « »Who were they? « »Moreno and Amarin. « »Wasn’t Amarin the one that found her? « The sailor nodded. »And they ended up marrying each other. He created the sketch and Moreno worked on bringing it to life. Amarin said it’d be a gift for her. « The sailors' expression darkened. »Ever since they disappeared, he hasn’t been the same. He keeps mumbling about being tricked and forced into silence by ‘her’ or ‘the monster’ … But no one knows who that ‘her’ or monster is that he talks about … « He sighed. »Perhaps losing his best friend made him lose his mind … «

His head was spinning, his throat felt dry and his chest tight and heavy. He tried to breathe but it felt like his lungs weren’t working properly and he took an unsteady step backwards, his hand reaching for the wooden side of the boat to support himself, to stop himself from stumbling.

Monster. Her. Amarin. Kailani. The only survivor of a siren attack. Disappeared 19 years ago with her husband and her new born child

No human could escape a siren attack. None ever did.

He turned his head, looking back at the wooden figure at the front of the boat.

Reyna Kailani. Queen of the sea. The ocean queen. Yara Kanja.

Mother.

Ian raised his head, eyes widened, searching for Jack’s gaze, which he quickly found. He knew that he was thinking the same thing. Ian opened his mouth, only to realize that his voice was gone and so were all of the words he could’ve possibly said.

He closed his eyes and tried to deepen his breaths, tried to stop his head from spinning so he could join the others on the boat, only to flinch when he felt someone touch his shoulder, turning around quickly, only to be face Jack again, who was softly rubbing his back. »We’ll talk about it when they’re asleep, alright? « Ian nodded, leaning into the touch lightly. »Thank you. « His voice was quiet and weak and Jack gave him a soft smile, before he gently pushed him towards the wooden plank. »Now get up there, they’re waiting for you. «

#Ian Kanja #Jack Bliant #Mika Amarin #Cassiel Moreno #Reyna Kailani #Artemis_Aarkany #Artemis_OCs