#dame writes

[villain-sympathizer]

Howdy! May I please request a Chisaki x Reader? Making it a headcanon or a drabble is your choice.

I wanted to know how a sleepy or tired Chisaki would be like with his significant other. I kind of headcanon that if Chisaki were to ever have a partner, they'd sleep in separate beds and would have their own respective bedrooms. So what if he didn't really care about that anymore and just wanted some rest? Perhaps falling asleep on the couch with them?

I uh just want fluff please

oh anon im so so so in love with this and i 1000% agree w/ your headcanon as someone who also doesnt like sharing a bed but craves physical intimacy from a partner

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

Testing the Waters

Kai Chisaki x GN!Reader/Significant other [drabble]

[Content warnings: Tiny, brief mention of MC having friends/family in the past that are “no longer around” - can be interpreted in any way.] 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

“I’ll just sleep in your bed tonight,” Kai mumbled as he and his partner entered their shared home above the Hassaikai base. 

That made [Name] stop in their tracks, exhaustion seemingly forgotten about in favor of turning to their lover with widened eyes. Surely they misheard him? Or maybe he just wants the bed that’s closest, that must be it. His room was further into the home, anyway.

“Oh - yeah, go ahead. I’ll change the sheets for you first, then I’ll just use your bed-”

“Why?” Kai’s low, vocally fried voice cuts them off, sounding genuinely confused. “It’s your bed, you can sleep in it too.”

Well, now things we’re even more confusing. [Name] gives him a look to reflect that exact sentiment, though most of it was hidden behind their half-plague mask that they had yet to remove. “But… what about your hives? I don’t wanna risk irritating you.”

Kai simply shrugs, removing his infamous jacket and plague mask to hang on some hooks near the base’s secret entrance, his simple cloth mask still on. “I’ll take some meds beforehand. I’m just too tired to care about my stupid health issues right now.”

[Name] was going to retort, tell him that it’s not stupid, it’s serious and they respected his need for space, but Kai was already waving off their concerns as he spoke. Despite saying that he was too tired to simply walk to his room, he sure didn’t mind going through the tedious steps of taking allergy meds, taking his sweet time with pouring himself water and tearing open the pill packaging.

“Besides, we’ve been together for a couple years now. I think it’s time we started acting like it when at home,” he mutters, acting as if this wasn’t a huge step in their relationship, seeing as the two slept in separate rooms since [Name] had moved in with him. 

[Name] was finally brought out of their stupor at the sound of Kai setting the now empty glass of water down. “Well, fine, but don’t complain if I forget you’re there and end up rolling around too much.”

With a warm smile that [Name] could only notice through the crinkling of his eyes, Kai lets out a quiet chuckle as the two of them head to bed. “I’ll try my best not too,” he replies, giving their shoulder a gentle squeeze as they enter [Name]’s room.

A room similar to his own, except decorated with items and knicknacks that just screamed [Name], as well as plenty of photos along the walls of them and the other Hassaikai members. Some photos even seemed to be from years ago, with friends and family that Kai has never met. Likely never will, either. 

After a quick change of clothes, Kai opting to use some old clothes [Name] had stolen for themselves while [Name] wore their own pajamas to minimize any skin contact that would irritate his hives, the two removed their masks and collapsed into bed. The day had been exhausting and the two of them were all too happy to just pass out the second their heads touched the pillow.

It must have been [Name]’s imagination, or perhaps they were having those “between sleep” hallucinations - but they could have sworn sometime during the night, Kai had held them close and kissed the back of their head, spooning them as they drifted right back to sleep. 

In the morning, Kai was already out of bed and preparing the day by the time [Name] woke up. They passed it off as some dream created by their desire for more affection.

They’ll just have to test it again. And again. And again.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki x reader #kai chisaki #overhaul #dame writes #Anonymous

[damoselcastel]

Dæmoni

Dæmoni - a FE14 Xander/Hinoka fanfic

Chapter s: 1/? Game: Fire Emblem Fates    Rating: Mature    Character(s): Hinoka, Marx/Xander, Kotaro    Tag(s): Demon AU, worldbuilding    Warning(s): referenced gore, violence, orange-blue morality    Word Count: 1,109 Summary: The immortal, horned-races: oni and demon. Hinoka had never considered the ways in which they were alike. [demon AU, Xander/Hinoka]

(aka, it's Friday 13th, and I wanted to have creature feature fun with the OTP during spoopy month)

#FE14 #fire emblem fates #fanfiction #Hinoka #Marx #Xander #the OTP #alternate universe #demon #oni #my fic #my writing #Dame writes

[justanotherignot]

Letter from Isobel (AND AYLIN!)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #aylin x isobel #dame aylin #aylin #bg3 aylin #isobel thorm #isobel #bg3 isobel #justanotherignot #has anyone actually gotten this? #because i had to do some tiny brain gymnastics to make it appear in my game #anyway this is fucking adorable #they sound married #i love that aylin felt the need to add the postscript even if it's just to repeat what isobel already said #aylin talks in all caps and she writes in all caps #and apparently she and isobel are doing a spinoff #the moon lesbians are detectives now

[a03heralding]

Bg3 blunt rotation headcanons:

Karlach: does not stop fucking laughing. She’s def wheezing at a joke she overheard in a lesbian bar three and a half years ago while in the middle of a sentence. The type who starts a story and ends up laughing so hard she can’t finish it.

Halsin: mellow as hell, is always encouraging the group to go for a nice walk somewhere while stoned to shit. Will he pass out or will he be caressing the flowers in his backyard? No one knows.

Shadowheart: Sis is asleep after a joint or a few hits from the bong. Is likely sleeping on Lae’zel’s shoulder with a blanket around her. We love her for that tho bc she looks so cute.

Jaheira: she is forreal trying to tell you that we’re all living in someone’s sims save or how aliens made the pyramids. Also always pulls up to the session at the most random times.

Lae’zel: when she does smoke she usually ends up tripping the fuck out and is staring at the wall like a dog that’s accidentally eaten an edible. Doesn’t partake anymore but will come and chill and act as Shart’s personal resting post.

Astarion: the one who is chatting the most shit, probably has the joint in a cigarette holder like curella de’vil. The main source of Karlach’s laughter. Is also constantly asking for Nicki Minaj songs to be added to the Spotify queue.

Wyll: straight up vibes, is probably hogging the snacks to himself tho but he’s busting jokes and laughing with Karlach about stupid shit

Gale: the person in charge of the playlist and the only one who can actually roll. He is very particular about the music bc he believes it sets the mood for the high. Is constantly denying Astarion’s request to play Chun li but puts on random shit like khazakstani jazz

Minthara: enabling Astarion’s shit talking and spilling the piping hot tea. The least faded out of all of them (except lae). Has a screenshot folder that she shows astarion so they can be shady.

Aylin: she’s productive when she’s stoned, is likely cooking something or has gone for a jog/ doing a task while wearing her socks/ Birkenstock combo

Isobel: the mom friend who is making sure everyone is drinking water and is getting fresh air while fried.

Withers: the za dealer. You have to go to his house and he only sells a min of 6gs at a time. Usually chilling and trying to hide his weed plants from the cops bc his neighbours are snitches ngl

Minsc and boo (sry I be forgetting): Brings his hamster to the function bc he doesn't want him to be lonely and believes that his best bud deserves a toke as well. Boo is a literal fucking menace and bites those who object to giving him any. There is literally always an argument bc of this but Minsc is ready to fight for his child.

#before you ask yes im high as shit while writing this #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #shadowheart #halsin #karlach cliffgate #minthara #lae’zel #astarion #gale waterdeep #wyll ravengard #jaheria #dame aylin #bg3 shitpost #shitpost #headcanon #bg3 withers #bg3 companions #tw drugs #tw: weed #Minsc #Minsc and boo

[yesterdaysprint]

The Wichita Beacon, Kansas, January 4, 1922

#1922 #1920s #kansas #manners #etiquette #history #vintage #historic #advice #letters #writing letters #messenger #tradesmen #tradesman #addressing letters #address #addressing #unmarried #madame #dear madame #dame curtsey #questionable advice

[citroncynique]

bad dreams in the night

#limbus company #canto 6 #lcb catherine #lcb heathcliff #lcb heathcathy #heathcathy #I'll be 100 with you guys I'm still kombuchagirl.gif about a LOT of the uh. narrative choices PM took. #especially cathy. oh we were robbed. it's not like PM isn't capable of writing perfectly horrible women. it's an art they're good at #which is why lcb cathy was so... surprising to me #UUUUH LITERATURE DWEEB WHINING ASIDE EVERY CATHY/ERLKÖNIG HEATHCLIFF ABSOLUTELY HAVE MY SOUL #be doomed and forlorn together....... #also tee hee i swapped out cathy's dress for the dress kate bush wears in the wuthering heights mv #iconic kate bush remains iconic #OH AND AND AND this goes without saying but this is referencing la belle dame sans merci by sir franck dicksee #and since this art piece isn't exactly an uncommon redraw i have used multiple fanart redraws as reference #but the one that helped me the most was a redraw by kalisami whose work is absolutely stellar #horses are..... hard to draw. even without their heads.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

thinking about noble bell college’s uniforms

In the story event Glorious Masquerade, the NRC guests fight fire lotuses/crimson flowers, which are depicted in battle like so:

As you can see, the flowers are in red robes. This design appears to be an intentional callback to the red robes of the worshippers that chant in the song Hellfire:

Idia comments that the fire lotuses/crimson flowers “wormed their way into some of the [NBC] students’ robes”. He then theorizes that there must be lingering magic in the robes which attracts the flowers, whether that magic is from the mages that once wore them or imbued in the cloth of the robes themselves. The latter is true of NRC’s ceremonial robes (and their dorm uniforms, as we learn in book 6).

Just looking by at the ceremonial robes vs the red robes, they’re similarly shaped—though of course NRC’s are much more elaborate, given that their school is larger, more prestigious, and likely received more funding. NBC’s robes are a plain solid color and appear to be longer in length (though maybe it just seems that way because the flowers are low to the ground??? It’s hard to gauge scale).

Since Idia brings up a potential comparison between NRC’s ceremonial robes and NBC’s red robes, I wonder if those red robes are NBC’s equivalent of ceremonial robes?? Like, is that what NBC students wear for important events or when they’re representing their school…? Because if that’s the case, I swear I didn’t seen any NBC mobs or the student council wearing it to receive their guests.

The only prominent red I see on their outfits looks too short to be the same red robes the flowers crawled into… It looks more like a shawl or caplet with a hood, and it’s not quite the right color (more maroon than red)… Maybe it’s the lighting?? It could be the same as the red robes, it could not be 😣 I’m not sure!

Something else I noticed is everyone seems to wear the same uniform except for Rollo, which makes sense given his position as student council president. Their school only has one prominent historical figure they look to, so that’s probably reflected in a lack of dorms. Azul likens Rollo’s position to the status of dorm leader, so it feels like a variation of a dorm leader uniform while the NBC mobs wear a more generic “dorm uniform”.

If these standard clothes and the red robes are two separate outfits, then I’d wager both are like NRC’s dorm uniforms and ceremonial robes respectively (ie NBC’s uniforms and robes are also infused with magic). So… uh… if that’s true, I wonder if Rollo’s skin crawls whenever he has to wear his school uniforms… 💀

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Azul Ashengrotto #Idia Shroud #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #Hunchback of Notre Dame #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hii! could u maybe write something abt a sick and VERY stuborn villain and a hero who keeps insisting on taking care of them? i really love ur work!! :)

“I could kill you within seconds, I hope you know that,” the hero whispered. They looked down at the enemy they were sitting on. The villain struggled terribly, even though the hero’s grip around their throat wasn’t that strong. Gasping for air, they held onto the hero until the latter softened their grip. “You’re sick.”

Tears were in the villain’s eyes and it wasn’t because they were sad. The hero pulled their fingers back fully, thus letting go of their nemesis. The villain — stubborn as they were — tried some weak attack which the hero only blocked with no interest.

“Headache?”

The villain didn’t answer. It was most certainly a pride thing.

“You need to go to bed.”

“I am fine,” the villain insisted. They tried to get up but the hero pushed them back down. They were surprised the villain had even made it this far. They didn’t think they would be able to get on top of a skyscraper and fight in the same condition the villain was in. They were probably filled up with painkillers.

“This doesn’t make you brave. People literally die from working out when they’re sick.” The hero put a hand on the villain’s chest. It was first and foremost for reassurance but they felt like they had to keep the villain down, too.

“I’m—” The villain started coughing violently and the hero pulled them up quick enough for the villain’s chest to bump against theirs. Once the villain found their breathing again, they stayed like this: leaned against the hero’s upper body, head on the hero’s shoulder.

“Take a second,” the hero said. They put a hand on the villain’s back in a feeble attempt to give them some kindness.

They knew exactly what the villain’s life looked like. They had their file and they had studied them in combat. And apparently, the villain knew them just as well. It was an unspoken thing.

But what really stuck out to the hero was the villain’s loneliness. Orphaned, no family, no friends, no partners. The villain had a cat but that was all. A cat couldn’t possibly take care of their health.

The hero felt guilty, felt somehow responsible. An ugly feeling infected their chest and left no room for a debate. The villain was vulnerable.

“Do you have medicine at home?” they asked. They still held them close.

The villain shook their head.

“I’m not gonna fight you today.”

“But I have to…”

“No,” the hero said. “No fighting.”

They let their fingers comb through the villain’s hair. It was really soft. A little messy, though.

“Close your eyes. Just take a moment,” the hero said. They felt the villain’s breathing on their neck. It was uneven.

The hero closed their eyes as well. They knew once the villain was healthy again, this would continue. Their rivalry wouldn’t come to an end. They would try to kill each other anew. They had little hope that things might change. In all these years of working as a hero, they had experienced nothing but a vicious cycle of killing and survival.

But right now, as they were holding onto each other, they could feel the kind of affection they had for another buried deep down.

Honestly, the hero wasn’t doing much better. Their private life was just as lonely as the villain’s. Maybe all they had was each other.

So, the hero tried to hold onto this for as long as they could — until they brought the villain to their apartment and took care of them.

After that, fighting the villain became increasingly unbearable.

#the belllllllls of Notre Dame #short one sowwy I am eepy #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #hero #villain #heroes and villains #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[ladamedusoif]

Long Distance - Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2000 

Warnings: SMUT; Established relationship; Reader lives in Europe; No physical description of Reader; Older!Marcus; Marcus with a PhD; FaceTime sex; masturbation (F and M); oral sex (F receiving); unprotected but safe PiV sex; dirty talk; come (cum) play

Summary: Happily settled with you on the other side of the Atlantic and now working primarily in consultancy, Dr Marcus Pike sometimes finds himself travelling back to the US for work. But there’s always video calling, right?

A/N: I got...carried away. Ahem. I'm not really using taglists any more so follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications. Thank you @agentjackdaniels for previewing this smutty little story.

You never really sleep easy when he’s not here. Strange, after all those years on your own, comfortably splayed out across your large mattress. A year of sharing a bed with Marcus, though, and you feel unsettled without him.

The display on your sunrise alarm clock reads 1.30am when your phone lights up with a message.

You still awake? x

Your fingertips tap out a swift response.

Very much so. x

You settle yourself and your phone as the call comes through. A moment of connection, and there he is: Marcus. Your Marcus, looking so very distinguished with his wavy, silver-streaked hair, warm eyes, and mischievous, boyish smile. He breaks into a wide grin as you appear on the screen.

“There you are, baby.”

"Here I am, love. How are you doing?” You cast a glimpse over the schlubby old FBI t-shirt he sometimes wears lounging around the house. “Are you in bed already?”

Marcus groans and rolls his eyes. “Yup, pretty much. I’m so tired, the clients all want to start at the crack of dawn. Why are they all so obsessed with breakfast meetings here?”

You chuckle. “Sweet man, you’ve become Europeanised.”

"I mean, you do have the better coffee.” He props himself up, resting his chin on his hand. “I miss you so fucking much. It’s only been three days and I’m going crazy.”

"I miss you, too. But what is it - tonight, and then two more nights? And then you’re all mine again.”

Marcus’s chocolate-brown eyes soften as he smiles softly, taking you in. “God, I can’t wait. Fuck, you look so good. Is that the, uh… that nightdress?”

You preen a little for the camera, innocently moving your body ever so slightly. You’re confident that he’s now got an even clearer picture of your tits, nestled in the burgundy lace of your - and his - favourite strappy chemise. 

“This old thing?”

He shakes his head and bites his lower lip, grinning. “You are a tease. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

"And what am I doing, Dr Pike? Use all that agent training, tell me. Decipher me.”

He licks his lips. “You’re showing off your beautiful tits, knowing perfectly well I can’t stand not being able to touch them right now.”

You keep eye contact but trail a finger along the soft line of your cleavage, slipping it under the lace to flick gently over your nipple. All the way across the Atlantic, Marcus groans on his DC hotel room bed.

"Oh, I see. You liked that, hmmm?”

He nods. “You know I liked it, baby. Fuck, you are gorgeous, you know? Just…perfect.”

You notice his right arm moving a little, working at something off-screen. 

“Are you hard, darling? Are you touching your cock?”

"Mmmm. Yeah, just - just through my shorts.” His gaze flits from your tits to your eyes and back, his breath a little laboured. “You turn me on so much, feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Will you jerk off for me, Marcus? Let me see how hard I make you. Please.” With a flutter of your eyelids you slip down the spaghetti straps of your chemise to reveal your breasts, nipples hard and soft flesh spilling over the lace cups.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Yes. Hold on -“ He reaches for his phone and angles it just so, so you can see him tugging down the dark grey sweat shorts and his hard, thick cock springing free against his tummy. He wraps his right hand around it, gently pulling back the foreskin to reveal the head already weeping with pre-come. 

Now it’s your turn to whine as your pussy clenches around nothing, reacting to the sight of his cock ready and waiting and so far away. Marcus grins as he continues to stroke himself.

"Think you need to play with your pussy, too.”

You nod and slip a hand between your legs, gathering some of your growing wetness and displaying it to him on your fingers. “See how much I miss you, love?”

He speeds up a little, fucking into his fist and never taking his eyes off you. “Fuck, I wish my mouth was on that pretty little cunt of yours. Wish I was eating you out right now, baby.”

"And I wish I had your gorgeous, hard cock in my mouth, darling.” You start to rub harder, insistent circles over your swollen clit and moan as you listen to the sound of your boyfriend jerking off. 

He moans and closes his eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me, what would you do?” 

“I’d use my tongue - lick the shaft, first, the way you like it.” The sound of your wetness is lewd and arousing. “Then - oh, fuck - take you into my mouth, suck the head, stroke you with my hand…”

Marcus pauses to spit into his hand, a poor substitute for the lubrication offered by your slick. “Keep going. Keep fucking going, love.”

“Fuck, I wish I had that gorgeous cock inside me.” You slip a finger inside your pussy and whine at the sensation as you press on the sensitive spot he knows exactly how to work. “M’finger is nothing, need you.”

Marcus pants as he continues to stroke his cock, and pulls up his t-shirt to expose his belly. He’s getting close. “Wish I was fucking you, too. Feeling - oh, fuck - all of you on my cock, pulling out and…” He screws up his face and groans and your cunt aches for him. “Fuck, I want to come on your tits.”

Your free hand finds your breast as you continue to rut against your hand, fingers pinching the nipple and massaging the flesh. It’s your Marcus. He deserves a show, and you’re only too happy to deliver. He grunts and groans, never taking his eyes off you. 

“I’m really close, Marcus.” Your hips buck upward as you near your peak. “I’m gonna come for you - fuck, gonna -“

He strokes himself furiously, desperately, as he watches you reach orgasm - and talks you through it.

"Jesus, look at you. Coming on your own hand - oh, fuck - getting yourself off for me. Good girl. Good - fuck, gonna come - fucking good girl.”

He comes hard, angling his cock so that the white, viscous come hits his bare tummy. Your cunt still aches for him. 

“I wish I was there to clean you up, Marcus.”

He chuckles and lies back on the pillows, curls damp with sweat and a huge smile on his face. He grabs his phone so you can see him. “Right back at you. Bet you’re so wet now, huh?”

“Soaked.”

“Fuck. Hope you’re ready for when I come home, baby.”

In the early morning, your sleeping form rests peacefully in your large bed, an arm cuddling a pillow to your torso for comfort. When you’d set your alarm the night before, you reminded yourself that you just had two more nights before he was home again. 

Two more nights. Two more sleeps. And then: him. Him. Only him. 

A shifting weight on the mattress stirs you, still halfway between waking and slumber. In the hazy half-light, you turn your head and find a beautiful, familiar sight. 

“Hi, baby.”

“M-Marcus? What are you - did I get my dates wrong? I thought you were back tomorrow…”

“I was supposed to be,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “and I took an earlier flight because I just missed you so much. Hey - is that my shirt?”

You nod, turning your body wholly towards him and nuzzling against him. “It is. Your Georgetown T-shirt, I just - it feels like you.” He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “Marcus - what about the work?”

He hums happily. “The clients were happy, and there isn’t much more to do that I can’t do from here.” 

He moves his lips to your neck, softly nipping and licking the delicate skin as his big hands work their way under the T-shirt and up to your breasts. 

“I have been thinking about this the whole way home.”

You giggle. “Oh really? And you were able to keep yourself under control?”

Marcus kisses you on the mouth as he nods, fingers kneading your tits. “My self-discipline was tested, I admit, but oh, fuck, baby…”

Your hands are on his crotch, feeling the growing hardness under the grey sweatpants he likes to wear on long-distance flights. You lean into his ear as you tug down the sweats and his boxers, taking his cock in your hand. 

“Why don’t you see if I’m still wet from the other night?”

With a groan, Marcus slips his hand between your legs and finds the wetness already pooling at your core. “Pretty fucking wet, baby.” He sucks his fingers clean of your slick before shucking off his sweatshirt and tee.

“Good.” You sit up and quickly straddle him, his thighs between yours as you peel off the old T-shirt so you’re completely bare for him. “I’m going to make you feel so good, darling man.”

You gather some of your own slick across your palm and fingers before taking his cock in your hand, stroking the velvet skin of the shaft and gently bringing your palm over the head in a fluid motion that you know drives him wild. Marcus watches your hands as you pleasure him, little animalistic noises issuing forth from his beautiful mouth as he grows ever harder under your practiced touch. 

“Do you want me?”

He nods furiously and you lift yourself up to shift forward, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. 

“Tell me, Marcus.”

"Need you so fucking bad, baby. Please.”

You take him inside you in one stroke, your wetness easing his thick cock into the tightness of your pussy. Marcus cries out as you begin to ride him, hands pressed into his broad chest. 

“Better than the phone sex, huh?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you hiss, hips rolling in a well-established rhythm as you fuck him. “Liked watching you jerk off to me, though.”

"Me too, baby.” Marcus grips your hips and grins as he admires you: your body, your curves, the way you’re letting yourself go as you ride his cock. You bite your lip and roll back your head, lost in the sensation of how your man stretches and fills you so perfectly.

When you slip a finger against your clit, he practically growls, meeting your rhythm as he starts to fuck up into you.

“‘M not gonna last, baby,” he pants, fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips and ass. 

“You want to come on my tits, like you said?”

His desperate nod is your cue to lift yourself off his cock, glistening with your slick and his pre-come, and shuffle down the bed a little. You press your breasts together as Marcus wraps his broad hand around his cock and pumps it quickly. 

“Fuck, your tits are pretty. So fucking soft and perfect and -“

He stutters and cries out as he comes, his release hitting your breasts and gathering on the hard peaks of your nipples. 

You gather some of it up on your finger and suck it clean. 

“Jesus, baby. That’s so fucking hot.” 

You release your finger with a pop. “Thank you, love. Can you get me a cloth?”

He wanders off and returns with a washcloth, gently cleaning your body and his cock before returning it to the bathroom. By the time he gets back, you’re tucked under the covers again. He grins as he joins you, pulling your naked body to his. 

“Missed you.” You wind an errant, silver-streaked curl around your finger. “It feels like there’s something missing when you’re not here.”

Marcus kisses your forehead and you nuzzle up against his chest. “Don’t I know it? I felt exactly the same in DC, wondering where you were. Missed going to sleep beside you, waking up with you.”

You chuckle against the warm, sweat-damp skin of his chest, pressing your lips to the freckles dusted across his golden body. “And fucking me.”

He laughs, and the sound makes your heart soar. “That, too. But trust me - I’ll make it up to you.”

"Oh you will, huh?”

His coffee-brown eyes are as sincere and honest as ever. “Always and forever. Even with jet lag.”

dividers by @cafekitsune

#long distance fic #ladameecrit #la dame writes #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

[rehfan]

La Belle Dame avec Merci

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; SLOW BURN; Eddie & Reader are both over 18; fake dating/relationship; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / <— let me know if you want to be added!!

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST — I sincerely hope I do this justice.

1.8K words of Chapter 1 below (no smut yet - this is a SLOW BURN) — more chapters to come! AO3 link

Tumblr Masterlist Link

Eddie Munson was on your radar about as much as any other guy in school. That is to say, boys were people to avoid on the whole; whether because they were just cruel to you, or users trying to get you in bed, and therefore people to pointedly stay away from or - if it ever would happen - a dreamy-eyed boy were to come along and finally be kind, the fact remained the same: boys were an inconvenience at best, a source of torture at worst. Keeping your head down was the rule for every day. None of them wouldn’t have anything to do with you anyway, but some would actively jump out of the way in the halls all the while thinking themselves clever and funny by quoting Monty Python: “She’s a witch! A witch! She turned me into a newt! I got better…” An act somehow always followed by a cackle from their clique.

Of course, Eddie himself wasn’t one of these. He mainly kept out of your way, even though you shared a biology class together. You knew him enough to hand him a pen or pencil if he asked you for one in desperation, but otherwise, he kept to the theater club and his D&D group, Hellfire, and gave you a wide berth.

So it was a surprise to you when you received notice from the librarian that Eddie asked for a tutor in history. Ms. O’Donnell was a challenging teacher, no doubt, but you were one of her favorites and were currently in her AP History class. Eddie was in American 20th Century history and while it wasn’t your favorite part of history, you could still help him get by. You thanked the librarian and went looking for Eddie.

It didn’t take you long. The librarian simply pointed behind you. He was at one of the smaller tables in the middle of the space, doodling in a notebook. His leg was pumping a mile a minute and he looked bored. It must be his free period, you thought. You sat opposite him without asking and he looked up surprised.

“So when would you like to get started?” you asked, unpacking a datebook and pen from your purse.

“What?” He was genuinely thrown off guard, but soon regained his composure. This was some kind of trick. Had to be. He searched the room and discovered the table behind you was loaded with jocks and party kids. They weren’t looking at either you or him, but something still smelled off. He narrowed his eyes at you and waited.

“For your tutoring. 20th Century History? Ms. O’Donnell’s class? The thing you asked to be tutored in?” You clicked your pen. “When are you free?”

“What are you talking about?” he said, utterly confused. You had never spoken to him for any length of time before but there was something about the sound of his voice you found fascinating. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to hear. Even if it was him turning you down for your academic services. “I never asked to be tutored,” he said, insulted. “I’m not that stupid. I’ll make it through her class all on my own, sweetheart, m’kay?” He tilted his head and gave you a smart-ass grin.

“Well then why did the librarian give me your name? And why did she say that you wanted to be tutored?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said, leaning forward, that grin still painted on his face. “Maybe she’s trying to set you up with the only guy in school who isn’t terrified of you.” This was not true. You did terrify him. Deeply. Your piercing eyes. Your pretty hair. Not to mention your rather distracting body. You were a fucking masterpiece and totally untouchable. The Impenetrable Ice Queen. The Queen who was now talking to him, the lowly bard. What was happening here? Doubling down on his declaration, Eddie leaned in even further and whispered: “I can be scary too, you know.”

Your spine stiffened. That was a shot across your bow you weren’t expecting. “I don’t understand. The librarian always keeps track of who the tutors are assigned to. If you didn’t put your name in for tutoring-“

Just then a group of kids behind you laughed. “Hey Munson! The Ice Queen? You getting desperate? Want to take your chances with the frigid bitch of Hawkins High?”

“Yeah man, hope you like cold fish!”

“And cold showers!”

You didn’t even want to turn around. From the look on Eddie’s face, you knew that it was the same group of people that hated him too - that is to say, almost anyone else in the school.

You closed your eyes and took a deep calming breath. “Jocks or preps?” you asked him.

“Looks like a mix of both,” he answered you and raised his middle finger at them all. Because fuck them, that’s why. He wanted to punch them all in the face. After all, they were also insulting you and face punching after someone insults a lady is expected, no? The knight errant in him was itching for battle.

“The freak found the geek!” one of them called.

“Shh! Quiet in the library or all of you can leave!” said the librarian. She stayed long enough to watch the big group behind you duck their heads and pretend to study their books. Satisfied that everything was over, she went into her office to answer the phone.

As soon as she was gone, it started back up again, just quieter.

“Hey Munson, be sure your dick doesn’t freeze and snap off inside her.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll probably cut it off as soon as he pulls it out of his pants.”

“And hey, Ice Queen, watch out Munson doesn’t have anything catching.”

“Yeah. God knows what that freak carries.”

”Probably what the green monkey had.”

“It’s so nice to know they care,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. As you kept your gaze in Eddie’s direction, you saw his jaw clench and his eyes darken. You commended him for keeping his temper, if only barely.

In that moment, as Eddie was steaming and you were trying to let their words pass over you, you came to an important realization: you and Eddie were in the same boat socially. It was also then that you realized that Eddie might be the answer to your prayers. In fact, out of all the guys in Hawkins, out of every single male soul, he was likely to be the one person that you could co-conspire with - if he were up for it, that is.

And if you were honest, there was something fundamentally attractive about the metalhead. You enjoyed how he held court in the cafeteria from time to time. It took bold resolve to speak his truth to the entire school. And there was something about his eyes. The intensity behind them was magnetic. You didn’t need much more thought.

You leaned in, resting your elbows on the table. “How game are you?”

“Huh?” he said, snapping out of his murderous plotting.

You slowed your speech to match the speed of his brain: “How. Game. Are. You? Will you play along with me?”

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t see where this was going, but it was better than being carted off to jail by Hopper on a battery charge. He was an adult in the eyes of the law, after all. He allowed his curiosity to override his anger. “A little improv, sweetheart? Heh. What do you have in mind?” He honestly didn’t know what to expect from you at this point, but he was seriously intrigued. The Ice Queen wanted to conspire with him. He was flattered.

“Just follow my lead,” you said, “and let’s blow all their tiny minds.”

Slowly you rose from your seat. Your skirt was long, almost to your ankles, but had a slit that ran to just above your left knee. You came around the table and lifted and parted the skirt, swinging your left leg clean over Eddie’s legs and settled yourself in his lap. Automatically, his hands were on your hips, sliding down to stop on your thighs, warm and firm. Eddie looked shocked for about three milliseconds, and it was a good thing he had recovered; if he were too shocked, you didn’t think it would sell the way you wanted it to.

Taking his face in your hands, you turned your head to place a gentle kiss to his cheek, another to his temple, and yet another to the side of his head near his ear. You were testing his waters. You could feel him tremble slightly, but he was holding fast. Good for him. “Follow my lead,” you whispered gently. Then you pressed a searing kiss to his lips.

Eddie’s brain shut off.

He responded to you much more respectfully than you expected; he kept his tongue to himself. In truth, he was still trying to recover from the shock of having you so close and pressed against him. All it would take would be you grinding your hips against his and he wouldn’t be able to walk anywhere without a book in front of his crotch.

The whispered “What the hell-?” from behind you was completely worth the risk of trusting the honor of Eddie Munson. The sound of the rest of them whispering to one another in amusement, fascination, and shock was also satisfying.

The kiss lasted a good thirty seconds or so when the bell rang and everyone gathered their things. You got up. As you gathered your datebook, you smiled at him. “See you in biology, lover.”

There was an extra swing in your hips as you left the library. You could feel Eddie’s stare and knew that his dumb grin was on his face.

You were wrong, however. Eddie was too in shock to react. Too overwhelmed by your energy just now. He stared in confused longing, swallowing hard, knowing he could never really have you and wondering desperately what he was supposed to do now that he knew what kissing you felt like. What having you in his lap felt like.

With that kiss, you knew that the Hawkins High rumor mill was going to spin so fast, it might set the school on fire. That much, you could have predicted. What you didn’t expect was how hot and bothered it had left you. The warmth of him you had expected. Even the plush feel of his lips was a foregone conclusion. But the feel of him - him beneath you and in front of you, his hands on you, his scent spinning around your brain. That was overwhelming. This was either the best idea you’ve ever had, or the worst. Unfortunately, only Eddie Munson could define that for you.

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

CHAPTER 2 is now posted to AO3 and TUMBLR

#fanfic #writing #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fake relationship #la belle dame avec merci #lbdam #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #slow burn

[creativesplat]

I would also like to see some miphlink, if that's okay!

I was really struggling with what to draw, and then I remembered your ask from ages ago (dang ADHD brain...) anyway, sorry its such a late answer, but Miphlink inspired by Dicksee's La Belle Dame

#thank you so so much for the ask stars!! I had completely forgotten about it (I'm so so sorry!!) and it saved me from an artist-not-arting #you know the sort of pent up unpleasant feeling you get when you need to do something creative but its not happening and then its sad? #yeah I didn't get that because your ask suddenly popped into my head! so very happy about that :) thank you! #link is a horse girl and we need more of it in life #also to try and get the flowy fabric look that Dicksee's La Belle Dame has without putting Link in a dress I decided to modify Mipha's fins #and then added some of that gorgeous salmon colour from the original piece #also the reason the reason the champions tunic etc have that grey tinge to it is because the knight was wearing armour in the original piec #with a beautiful duckegg blue grey colour and I thought including that might be fun too! #anyway #the couple that is perfect for one another and should always be together for all time: Mipha and Link #mipha #link #botw #creativesplat draws #breath of the wild #miphlink #lipha #I really need to catch up on the miphlink tag... its so exciting to have so much wonderful art and writing to look through but I am a rathe #busy/ adhd forgetful bean so whenever I get round to reading or looking at art... there will be a long reblog/ queue of miphlink stuff! #eventually #at some point #because fashionably late (coughjustlatecough) is my middle name! #enough rambling sorry #I love drawing miphlink its like a comfort drawing thing #like her head is so squidgy and so easy to doodle so if ever my brain is bored or I want to draw and need happy hormones but can't find the #mipha is the answer because the squishy head is just sooooo good #the designers of mipha were amazing and I love them #epona #tloz #zelda

[villain-sympathizer]

For you, what if (au) sir night eye survives, but he can’t do a lot of serious hero work due to is injuries.

So you can think is either some domestic fluff scenarios or maybe some, spices once perhap?

YES THANK YOU sorry this took so long, i worked on this in bits over the summer since i wanted to relax (plus i was rarely at my laptop to write anyway lmao)

i was going to make this smutty but i felt burnt out so its just hurt/comfort fluff!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

Reduced

[Survived AU; Nighteye x Reader/Significant other]

[Contents: Hurt/comfort, body image issues, descriptions of scars and amputated limbs]

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

Mirai was never insecure over anything about his appearance, at least not anything the public would criticize him about. Not his hair, not his wrinkles, nor his abnormally long neck, not even his permanent resting-bitch-face. Really, the only thing he was at least a little concerned about was how cold he’d come off as to others, and luckily he’d been getting better at that. Mirai never cared how he looked, as long as he was clean and professional about his appearance.

At least, that was the case. Then the Hassaikai raid happened.

As blessed as he is to even be alive, to watch the world laugh and to be able to smile back at them, he can’t deny that the injuries to his body were… quite the eyesore. 

Despite being fitted with a new bionic arm to replace the one that needed to be amputated, he still had to take it off at night to sleep, causing him to stand there in the mirror and stare at the scars. Scars that weren’t just on what was left of his arm, but a giant, discolored one on both his front and back abdomen that warped the skin in crooked patterns. His partner joked lightly about it with him, saying that he matched All Might now, making him a true number one fan; and as amusing and ironic as Mirai found that, it still never lessened the lingering disgust he felt looking at the damage done to his body.

“You’re feeling insecure about it again, Mir, aren’t you?” His partner, [Name], spoke up as they closed the door to their shared bedroom, making Mirai jolt slightly in surprise. He must have forgotten to close the bathroom door before getting ready for bed, and they caught him staring at his body in the mirror after he finished brushing his teeth.

With a small sigh, Mirai pulled himself out of his thoughts and began placing his stuff back in the cabinet, bionic arm whirring softly each time his elbow joint moved. “No, just… lost in thought, is all,” he responds. It wasn’t a total lie, since he was technically thinking deeply on things - it’s just they also happened to be about his scars. 

There was the soft padding of feet across the hardwood floor, disrupted only briefly then they must have walked over the rug by the bed, before Mirai saw his spouse appear in the mirror next to him. “Does it ache today? I can go get your meds,” they offered, placing a reassuring hand on his right, non-injured shoulder.

“No, I’ve been surprisingly fine this week,” Mirai says as he closes the cabinet gazing at [Name] through the mirror, a small, relaxed smile on his face. They really have been such a help during his healing and his adjustment to living without an arm. While Mirio, Toshinori, and his crew back at the agency were also helpful and accommodating, he couldn’t help but feel as if they were… pitying him, almost. 

But [Name]... they didn’t pity him. 

They showed him true sympathy and compassion, while letting him do what he still could without babying him all the time. Being a Pro-Hero themselves, they knew how humiliating it is to be waited on hand-and-foot when one is injured so severely. They were his grounding force throughout his few years of healing, even going so far as to check in on him back at his agency, now that he was back in the workforce - likely to make sure he wasn’t doing any fieldwork, and stuck purely to his office. Normally he’d get annoyed if someone was constantly barging in to ‘check on him’, but with [Name], he’s come to love their daily visits to his office. Sometimes it was to have lunch with him, other times it was just to chat and have a break from hero work, often still in their hero suit. 

Mirai couldn’t ask for a better way to spend his work days.

“You’re thinking again, love,” [Name]’s voice cuts through his memories, bringing him back to the present where they both stood in their pajamas in the florescent light of their shared bathroom. Despite staring at his shirtless, scarred torso, he found that none of his thoughts were actually about the injury at all.

“Just thinking of you,” Mirai hums in response, turning his head to press a kiss to his spouse’s forehead. “And how much of a mess I would be without you here to help me.” 

They give him a warm smile, their hand gripping his shoulder softly in reassurance. “Good, just think about that anytime you start to feel bad about your scars. That’s what your therapist said to do, right? Make positive correlations instead?” [Name] reminds him, moving out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. “Now let's get some rest, we both have to be up early tomorrow.”

Taking one last look in the mirror, Mirai lets out a deep breath before turning and following his spouse back to their shared bed. He takes a seat on his side of the bed, reaching over with his good arm to undo the straps and mechanics of his bionic arm, letting out a quiet grunt of frustration when one of the clasps wouldn’t budge from the angle he was reaching at. Despite it being only a couple years since his injury, they were still trying to perfect a permanent prosthetic arm for him, one with the capabilities to allow him use of his quirk through touch. Something like that required time and dedicated work for it to be successful.

Before Mirai could become even more frustrated at the straps he spent years clasping and unclasping on his own, he felt a gentle touch against his shoulder blade where the clasp was, and pressure of the strap suddenly lifted as the bionic arm came loose to expose the scarred end of his upper arm. 

“You looked like you needed some help,” [Name]’s voice speaks up from behind him, soft and quiet to fit the calm atmosphere that the night always seemed to bring when they were getting ready for bed. “Sorry if you didn’t need it. You just seemed to be getting frustrated.”

Carefully placing his bionic arm in a special case next to the bed, Mirai gives his spouse an appreciative hum. “I was, so thank you,” he replies, sitting back up with a sigh. “It seems even now, fully healed, I still need help with the dumbest things that I should have perfected by now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, but [Name] could hear him loud and clear.

They move closer to him from their side of the bed, wrapping their arms around his torso and resting their head against his shoulder, careful of his injury despite it being healed. “It’s okay to need help, even when you’ve mastered a skill or task,” [Name] says to him, their voice muffled slightly by his shoulder. “No one is perfect at anything, not even someone who spent their entire lives mastering something. Everyone needs assistance at some point, and it’s in our nature to help. You suffered a terrible injury that left you handicapped, when all your life you’ve gotten used to using both hands to do things.”

Feeling Mirai tense a little beneath their hold, they press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder blade. “But that doesn’t make you broken, or stupid, or useless, or unable to perform the tasks you used to. Adjusting to life with one less limb when you’ve grown up with all of them is insanely hard, and I can barely imagine what it’s like. Now look at me, Mir,” [Name] continues, lifting their head so that they can gaze up at their husband’s face. 

When they saw those golden iris’ peer down at them after a moment, [Name] gives him a warm smile. “No matter how small or lame the task, I’m always more than willing to help you. I will never think any less of you for what you are or aren’t able to do anymore, because I love and care about you. You are my husband - my soulmate, Mirai. No matter what happens to you, I’ll still love you, so, so much,” their words slowly trailed off into a soft mumble, nuzzling their face against his neck as Mirai leans his head down to the side to rest atop of his spouse’s.

“Even if I’m a burden?” He mutters, voice uncharacteristically low and fragile.

“You’re not a burden,” [Name] reminds him, their embrace tightening ever so slightly. “Not to me. Not to anyone. I’d wait on you hand and foot for the rest of eternity and not once feel like you’re burdening me at all.”

Their voice started to wobble, and Mirai could feel a few tears gently gliding across his shoulder and back.

“I almost lost you,” [Name] choked out. “I’ll do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and safe. I fear that if I don’t- that if I don’t appreciate every moment you’re still here with me, then I’ll never get the chance, because I never know if one day you’ll just be gone,” they take in a small, stuttered breath, their hold on Mirai loosening as he carefully turns to face them. 

His brows were furrowed in concern, his right arm coming up to gently touch the side of their face, the tips of his fingers brushing away a few stray tears. “I’m not going anywhere,” he starts with, voice low and comforting in a way no one would believe would come from the notoriously stoic Sir Nighteye. “I’ve retired from on-field duty, and like you said, my health is only improving,” Mirai says as he leans in to press a comforting kiss to [Name]’s forehead. He never realized they were holding in such a burden, constantly fretting that he one day might just keel over, or have his existence wiped away during what should have been a simple rescue mission. It made his heart heavy knowing that they were suffering from such anxiety while caring for him, yet it flattered him in a sense to know they cared about him just as much as he cared about them, too.

“I survived a stone spear through my torso and arm - God himself will have to kill me if he wishes to separate us.” That got a breathy chuckle out of his partner, Mirai himself smiling at the small victory. He loathed seeing loved ones cry, especially the person whose laugh and smiles always made his day that much better.

[Name] brings a hand up to wipe at their tears, giving Mirai a grin, although a bit melancholy. “Exactly. So please, Mir, don’t think for a second that I would love you any less than before that terrible day, okay?” They say to him, hands reaching over to gently grip both his shoulders from behind. “I don’t mind taking care of you, especially when you need it the most. It’s okay to need help with something you can’t safely do yourself. I can’t tell you how many times I needed you to reach for something because I knew I’d likely get hurt trying to get to it myself,” they joke lightly with him in an attempt to lighten the mood once more. It was successful, if the tiny snort from Mirai was anything to go by. “I know that’s not as comparable to losing an entire arm, but you get the idea.”

Mirai gives them a grateful smile, placing another kiss to the top of their head. With that conversation over, and the two both physically and mentally exhausted from the days events, a well deserved sleep was in order.

Cuddled up to each other in bed, Mirai waited until his spouse’s breathing evened out, signaling that they fell into a peaceful sleep. He slowly maneuvers himself so that his face could press against the top of their head, his arm holding them close.

“Thank you,” he whispers, rubbing soothing motions against their skin. “For everything.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #sir nighteye x reader #mirai sasaki x reader #sasaki mirai x reader #sir nighteye #mirai sasaki #Anonymous #dame writes

[damoselcastel]

Joyful Labors - a Pandreo/m!Alear fic Game: Fire Emblem Engage    Rating: General    Character(s): Pandreo, m!Alear    Tag(s): married couple, post-game, worldbuilding, domestic fluff, religious imagery    Warning(s): religious imagery & language    Word Count: 2,821 Summary:

It's their wedding anniversary, and Pandreo has a gift for his beloved god and husband (who just so happen to be the same person).

Pinch Hit @nagamas gift for @coderiderr , hope this fluff'll do! (one of my fav ships for FE17)

#Fire Emblem #elyos #pandreo #alear #fanfiction #FE17 #fe engage #my fic #Dame writes #gift fic #nagamas

[aimasup]

throws up my hands in mock resignation but also a hint of frustration Okay Valentino is a cool villain I guess

He's like. Genuinely unsettling. Wish the show struck a better balance with his character sometimes (like sometimes when he's onscreen I have to skip over because I feel queasy and sometimes he's so unsubtle he feels more like a prop than a guy who's going to be a Huge Deal in s2)

#why yes I have been reading some phenomenal fanfiction lately #a lesser me would be agonising over my inability to ever come close to matching the #masterfully characterised works of these talented WORD WEAVERS #but envy is a spoilt housepest and we must spend less time unleashing it upon new targets #instead let's talk about how these fics discovered its possible?? #to write Val as not only a 3dimensional character but a deeply horrifying person to WITNESS #to depict how he thinks and what he wants and what he contributes to the people around him #while acknowledging that his actions are supremely messed up #also without dumbing whatever the fuck is wrong with him down to just 'can't do math and needs a sippycup' #those jokes are funny but he's also a dealmaker #he doesn't need to be studied under a microscope! he needs to be gawked at in abject horror! Oh the Potential! #he needs to tell us more about how depraved hell can be by linking us to a portion of the culture full of the dead who cannot die! #anyways. rant over. uh I think I like valentino now? in the same way I like the old man villain from hunchback of notre dame. #just. (gestures) what is this dude. ew. oh my god #my post #personal stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #is this anything #again I am entrenching on dangerous territory of 'expectations for this media I consume' #he really doesn't need to be written all shakespearean-like #too attached mayhaps #delete later #honestly worried that if the show does reveal his backstory or whatever it'll try to paint him in a sympathetic light #and then the online arguments will be a headache for a month #villain with tragic backstory ≠ sympathetic villain

[patchodraws]

Aylin curls her fingers around Isobel’s hand, draws it towards her cheek with a tender regard set upon her; Isobel nearly flinches for a moment, that same fear pounding beneath her chest, until her fingers find the soft, porcelain skin of Aylin’s cheek, and that dark fear subsides.

“Tell me you do not see the brilliance your touch grants my soul,” she says. It’s a challenge, but spoken like a prayer. “Tell me you do not feel your chest aflutter in its presence.”

“I do, but—“

Aylin cracks the faintest smile, so distant from the radiant bluster she exhibits in the everyday and far closer to the intimate grins they once shared in private moments of reverence and selfish prayer.

“Then your heart is all your own, my darling.” Insistence, assurance, and — yes, even relief colour her words, soak them in the soothing balm of her presence and esteem. “Ketheric’s had rotted long before he had ever known the grave. Yours is your own even long after. You are my Isobel, and you could never harm me.”

The grip on her hand tightens faintly, and a small trickle of gold leaks from the corner of Aylin’s closing eyes before meeting the edge of Isobel’s thumb; an old but nigh-forgotten impulse tightens her chest, sets a warmth beneath her cheeks, and she wipes the tear away with a feather-light flit of her thumb, wondering how many of those Aylin had to shed in the years she’d been gone.

How many she wishes she could have wiped away in that time.

“Have I not hurt you enough?” Isobel whispers, though the words ring hollow. She never intended to leave the greatest joy in her life, the most brilliant beacon in her faith. Still, it’s hard not to wonder how deep that loneliness struck, how far that heartbreak had settled beneath the ancient scars she wears.

Aylin shakes her head as her eyes drift open, and the adoration she sets within Isobel’s own longing gaze steals her breath for but a moment. “After all the hurt I’d endured, being with you again heals me. No matter the years.”

#my writing #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dame aylin #isobel thorm #aylin x isobel #isobel x aylin #i had this thought for them a few days ago #i really wanna write a fic about them #that both explores isobel’s horror at what her father became #and what it might mean for her #as well as aylin’s trauma that she is too stubborn to admit to #and feeling like the daughter of a goddess cannot - should not - feel such mortal pain #as she tries to figure out why she lost her oath #god i love them both so much #as a couple and as characters on their own #do y’all think i should write this ? :0

[cfcreative]

Thoughts that struck me today:

Who the BG3 Companions favorite Sailor Scouts would be.

Lae’zel: Luna. Sure, you can tell her that Luna is not a scout, but Lae’zel will point out that Luna’s easily the best strategist, has the most knowledge of their (initial) situation, and trains all of the other incompetents around her. It’s probably best not to argue with her on this point.

Shadowheart: Sailor Saturn. The started-semi-evil scout who needs a reboot to get away from the evil that raised her, AND she’s devoted to purple. Easy choice.

Astarion: Sailor Mars. She’s fashionable and not about to take shit from anyone—even their so-called leader. Also, they both have a bit of a habit of putting on airs.

Wyll: Sailor Venus. They both had superhero careers before hooking up with their current crew. Wyll loves big romantic gestures, and Venus is the Guardian of Love.

Gale: Tuxedo Mask. Originally, I was going to say Mercury because they’re both complete nerds (affectionate). But then it struck me how many times Mamoru tries to do what he thinks is The Right Thing and it blows up in his face. Like a giant hungry orb in his chest.

Karlach: Sailor Jupiter. Taller than her other friends? Expelled from her old school because people thought she was a scary bully? Been on her own forever after losing her parents? Loves flowers and is actually an enormous softie? I rest my case, your honor.

Halsin: Sailor Mercury. I think he would appreciate her connection with water, her steady devotion to trying to become a doctor, and her general quiet and kind nature.

Jaheira: Sailor Pluto. Stuck being the person with all the responsibility for such a long time, but still somewhat apart from those she wishes to protect. Both the Mom That Shows Up for the weird little used-to-be-evil kid.

Minsc: “They fight for love and justice? Minsc and Boo will readily call ANY of them friends!”

Bonus Round:

Dame Aylin: Sailor Moon. Provided it’s later in the story, because she can’t stand Usagi’s whining to start. Basically, Aylin likes shouting along with IN THE NAME OF THE MOON, I WILL PUNISH YOU!

Isobel: Sailor Chibi-Moon. That stubborn streak reminds her of a certain someone…🌙🪽

#Sometimes the idea hits you and will not let you go until you write it all out #Still have not played with Minthara in my party so once again she is neglected sorry #I assume Minthara would say Queen Nehelenia or something #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #karlach #jaheira #halsin #dame aylin #Isobel #sailor scouts #sailor moon