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corroded-hellfire · 1 month

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Ok I feel like As You Wish!Eddie would be obsessed with that part in Enter Sandman where like he says the lines like “Now I lay me down to sleep” just to have his kids or reader repeat them back in like the innocent voice

Eddie lives his life by Metallica songs and teaches his children to do the same

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Alright pipsqueak,” Eddie says, gently tugging on the toe of Eliza’s purple footie pajamas as he passes where she sits between her brothers on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“No!” Eliza says, quickly rolling over a hundred eighty degrees so she’s laying on her tummy and buries her face in the couch cushion.

“Yes,” Eddie says. He scoops the remote up from the coffee table and presses the off button, effectively ending Shrek 2. “Come on. Go brush your teeth, little girl.”

Luke stares at his father and gestures to the television, as if to say we were watching that too, man. Rolling his eyes, Eddie tosses the remote into his younger son’s lap.

“Eliza Marie Munson,” Eddie says.

With a huff to show her father her displeasure, the three-year-old pushes herself off the couch and disappears down the hallway. Luke flicks the television back on and the last thing Eddie hears as he follows his daughter down the hallway is his teenage sons laughing at Puss in Boots coughing up a hairball.

“Ah, ah, with the toothpaste.” Your voice floats out of the bathroom into the hallway, making Eddie chuckle as he passes and keeps walking into Eliza’s room.

Deciding to mess with the feisty little firecracker, Eddie snatches up her favorite stuffed pig and lounges on his daughter’s too-short bed. It’s only a few minutes later that Eliza’s heavy tread can be heard coming down the hallway, the heavy footsteps baffling for such a small girl. The moment she crosses the threshold into her room, Eliza’s face scrunches up and her tiny shoulders rise up toward her ears.

“Hey!”

“Is for horses,” Eddie answers.

You’re two steps behind Eliza and the moment you see Eddie on the bed you chuckle to yourself. The Little Terror is about to be unleashed.

“My bed!” Eliza launches herself up on top of her father, causing him to let out an oof as she lands on his stomach. “My Penelope!” Small hands go to grab the stuffed pig but Eddie’s quicker, moving the plush animal behind his head to use as a pillow.

“Wow, kid, you really need to learn to share,” Eddie says.

A long exhale blows from Eliza’s nose, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a growl. Scooting her body up Eddie’s chest, your daughter rests her forehead against her father’s, giving him the most intimidating look she can manage. She probably doesn’t realize that to Eddie it now just looks like she has one giant eye, though. Hardly intimidating–even for the toddler.

“Did you give night-night kisses?” Eddie asks.

“Penelope,” is Eliza’s only reply.

“I’ll give you Penelope the Pig back once you give everyone goodnight kisses.”

Sitting up straight, Eliza eyes her father skeptically. When he raises his eyebrows at her, she must decide to believe him because she slides from his chest and lands on her carpet with a thud.

“Ryaaaaaan! Luuuuuuke!” Her calls echo down the hall as she runs, the shouts accompanied by the loud thumping of her feet as she picks up speed.

“And you wonder why she’s a menace,” you say to your husband, tilting your head at him as you lean against the door jamb.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re implying,” your husband answers, giving you the most innocent doe eyes he can manage.

Before you can come up with a response, Eliza rushes past you, back into the room. She skids to a stop and spins on her covered feet to face you.

“Kiss, Mama!”

Happy to oblige her, you scoop her up in your arms and press kisses all over her face. Her giggles are infectious as she tries to dodge your lips, protesting that this is an overload of kisses. She gives you a quick squeeze around the neck and you can’t help but notice how she’s feeling heavier in your arms these days. It makes a part of you sad, remembering when she was small enough to lay in the crook of your elbow.

Eliza wriggles out of your grip and makes her way back over to her bed. Her lower lip juts out in a pout and she bats her dark eyelashes at her dad.

“Can I have Penelope now pleeeeease?” she asks in her sweetest voice.

“I guess so.”

Eddie pushes himself off the child’s bed and hands his daughter the stuffed pig. He presses a kiss to her head and tucks her in as she snuggles beneath her blankets.

“Okay, ready for prayers?” Eddie asks.

“Ready.” Eliza snuggles back against her pillow, clasps her hands together in front of her, and closes her eyes.

“Now, I lay me down to sleep.”

“Now, I lay me down to sleep,” your daughter repeats, making you smile.

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Good job.” Eddie leans down and kisses her. “Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

“Nighty night, Daddy.”

Quietly, you slip from the room, Eddie right behind you. He flips the light switch, turning off her overhead light and activating her Mulan nightlight. Gently, he closes the door behind him, and the two of you pad down the hall towards your room.

“You think Wayne will ever catch on that’s from a Metallica song and not your devotion to God?” you ask, a smirk dancing on your lips.

“Not if someone keeps her mouth shut,” Eddie says, grabbing your sides and digging his fingers into them. Giggles erupt from you as you push his hands away and stumble into your shared room.

“Hush little baby, don't say a word,” you recite the next line of the song, walking backwards towards your bed. “And never mind that noise you heard.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at you as he slowly saunters forward, coming closer to you.

“It's just the beasts under your bed,” you continue. “In your closet, in your head.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, smirk on his face growing, “you’re about to have a beast in your bed.”

A soft yelp shoots out of you with a bout of laughter as Eddie tackles you down on the bed. He climbs on top of you and presses kisses all over your face, just like you’d done to Eliza.

“Oof, she’s right,” you say. “Too much.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie teases. He scoffs and pretends to climb off of you.

With a roll of your eyes, your fingers grip into the front of his t-shirt and you pull him back down on top of you.

“Get back here, altar boy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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renren-006 · 1 month

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Sleepovers | Geralt x Fem Reader

plot: geralt finaly came home to you again

tags: fluff, soft, love

word count: 513

a/n: hey guys, just a short little story for you guys!!

Sleeping next to Geralt was not only a luxury but also something that calmed you. He took up most of the bed but you were more than happy to snuggle into bed with him, be allowed as little space next to him if it meant being with him. He would come home to you when he could, meaning every few weeks his bed would thumbs down on the stoop and he would open the door to find you already rushing down the stairs to him, a grin plastered on your face. He loved seeing your smile when that door opened, and he loved when you would leap over the threshold of the door into his arms, not caring how smelly or how covered in dirt he was.

Those nights and days of him being home you always savored, but you more so welcomed the crumbed bed with him. You welcomed the heat besides you, the unknowing need he had for you, and you welcomed the sleepless nights next to him.

“Darling, are you going to stare at me all night?” he asked you, causing your hands to falter from tracing his face in his sleep, although turns out he wasn't asleep. He peeked one eye open at you causing you to smile. “How often do you watch me sleep”

“Every night your back home with me” you told him, laying down eye to eye with the man you loved

“Every night” he smiled.

“Every night, till the sun peeks through the curtains' ' you told him, glancing over him towards the window. It showed the landscape outside, the winding hills and the towns lights dancing between them. You lived just on the outskirts, just far enough away that you two had your own space. You wanted to live here, in this place with vast plains and hills and no demons or other creatures for Geralt to worry about when he left. This was the one place in the world that had proven to be safe for thousands of years. It was rumored that tree sports or feries blessed the lands and made them safe for special humans to live here, and that has been true. Everyone that found and created a home here had some form of gift, Geralt and his abilities and you…and your way with animals. Roach made it very well known how much he preferred you over his companion. Geralt refused to listen whenever you would cast the bond to him so he could hear the horse talk. Roach, now in the little barn next to your house, was sound asleep after the long journey back.

“Tell me where you have traveled to this time?” you asked him, wanting to fall asleep to his stories.

“Bedtime story my darling?” he asked you, knowing for the years the two of you had been married that you enjoyed every story he told you, and every sleepover you two had since you were teenagers.

“Always” you said sleepily, snuggling into him so he could talk in your ear about the world beyond the valley.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #witcher geralt #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill

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wufflesvetinari · 2 months

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ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - themortal. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

#wyllstarion #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #bloodpact #leading you gently by the hand through wyllstarion nation #fic rec

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 10 months

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Broken Heart

Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.

You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.

Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, violence

Previous Chapter

Chapter 12-

Travelling the Continent constantly looking over your shoulder for danger wasn't so different from when you used to walk The Path with Geralt and Eskel slaying monsters for coin.

You missed those days.

Life had been so much simpler back then.

And you missed your twin brother dearly.

Now, you were running from powers across the Continent who wanted to get to Ciri and use her Elder Blood for their own personal gain. You had lost track of how many different factions were hunting the girl, but it didn't matter. You were never letting anyone touch her.

Recently, you had found yourselves taking refuge in one of Yarpen’s cabins situated on the outskirts of the woods by a frozen lake. You were surprised that he was willing to help you, knowing what kind of heat you would bring to his area if anyone found out, but you also knew that he wanted the hush money for his discretion, so actually, you weren't surprised at all.

Yennefer had followed along with you, Geralt and Ciri, moving from place to place with you guys without complaining. She continued trying to train the young girl with her powers, but as far as you could tell, that training hadn't been very successful.

Jaskier had travelled with you for a while too before meeting a woman named Vespula, and well, he chose to stay with her for the time being while the four of you kept moving. You missed his constant ramblings and his beautiful yet annoying singing, but you understood why he chose to stay, and you couldn't hold that against him.

When nobody came knocking at your door after a couple of months by the lake, you all unknowingly began letting your guard down. Your little cabin that you shared with Geralt and Ciri was starting to feel like home.

It was nice.

It was domestic.

Yennefer lived in the small cabin next door. She never once tried to sleep in the same house as you guys which you were grateful for. Although you were willingly dealing with her being around, you still didn't trust her after everything she had done.

The mage wasn't stupid, she knew that you didn't exactly like her, so she respected your privacy and kept her distance. She taught Ciri magic in the mornings, and you trained Ciri in the afternoons on how to fight and be a Witcher. It worked. You had a good routine and Ciri was happy, so that was all that mattered.

"Thank you for the supplies, Yarpen." You said, taking the last crate of potatoes from his horse cart.

"What would you guys do without me, eh?"

"We would probably starve for one." Ciri chuckled, taking a bite from one of the fresh apples.

"We wouldn't starve." You rolled your eyes, placing the crate down on the ground. "We can still hunt food, but these are greatly appreciated."

"Oh, I forgot to tell ya, our Belleteyn festival is down the valley. You should come." Yarpen offered, looking over at Ciri.

The girls eyes lit up, "I'd love to."

"It's not safe."

"No."

"Bad idea."

You, Geralt and Yennefer all answered at once causing Ciri to glare at you.

Well, at least the adults were on the same page.

"No one's asked about me for months and everyone will be in costume. And... I was born on Belleteyn." Ciri negotiated.

"Ah! You'd have had a shot at bein' May Queen. Except my niece's beard is comin' in nice and full this year." Yarpen laughed with a wink causing Ciri to giggle.

Geralt practically hissed as he walked past Yarpen, glaring at the smaller man who sobered up his laughter real quick before sighing.

"Just say yes, already! About time for a fuckin' thaw round here."

Ciri looked between you and Geralt with a bright smile, but you just shook your head. It was too risky. After everything you had done to make this place a safe haven, you couldn't risk throwing it all away for some stupid festival.

"I promise I'll be safe."

Geralt glanced over at her hesitantly before looking over at you with a questioning look, but you shook your head again.

"We can't risk it."

"Please, I'll be safe. I swear." Ciri practically begged before Yennefer walked over and joined the conversation.

"I guess it probably wouldn't hurt. She's a girl, I think she deserves to have some fun with other people for at least a couple of hours."

You turned and gave Yennefer a pointed look that she knew meant, shut up. But she completely ignored you and turned to look at Ciri.

"Yarpen just told me that he dropped off a bag full of old dresses for us to choose from. C'mon."

Ciri's smile spread further as she took Yennefer’s hand and you watched in disbelief as the two of them rushed into the cabin without further word, leaving you and Geralt standing outside.

"What the fuck just happened?" You said, staring at the closed door before glancing over at Geralt. "Does she think that she's in charge here?"

Geralt sighed, "she is not in charge. But... I guess one night won't be so bad."

Whoa, wait, what?

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly closed it again. This wasn't a fight worth having. Geralt wouldn't allow this if he didn't think Ciri would be safe, and you trusted Geralt.

Later that night, you were sitting at the kitchen table with Geralt debating whether or not you should go with them to this festival or if you should stay back and watch the house, but Ciri had already decided for you.

"Y/N, I found the perfect dress for you!" The girl shouted from her bedroom.

That caught Geralt's attention. He looked away from the knife he was sharpening and raised his eyebrows at you.

"You're gonna wear a dress?" He asked, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear a dress."

"For good reason. Dresses are impractical. They get in the way. These pants and shirt are much easier to move and fight in." You replied, motioning towards the clothes you were currently wearing.

"I've never been to a Belleteyn festival outside of Cintra before. You know, this one year, Sir Lazlo tried to jump the bonfire in full armour." Ciri continued to say from her room before her door opened. "What do you think?"

You glanced over your shoulder and couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you took in the beautiful long blue dress she was wearing. That colour with her long light hair, it suited her perfectly.

"I think you need to hide your hair and mask your eyes." Geralt muttered, turning his attention back to his knife.

The smile on Ciri’s face instantly vanished and you kicked Geralt’s shin from under the table causing him to glare at you.

"Would it kill you to say, 'You look lovely'?" Ciri mumbled before she stormed off back into her bedroom.

"Ciri." Geralt sighed, but she was already gone. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"It is a bad idea. But she is also just a little girl. All she wanted was for you to approve of her outfit and maybe tell her she looks nice because believe it or not, that girl looks up to you. Your opinion matters to her." You explained, looking at your boyfriend across the table.

"It shouldn't."

"Maybe. But it does. She cares about what you think. Remember that."

You stood up, giving Geralt’s shoulder a small squeeze as you walked past before you knocked her bedroom door softly.

"Hey, kiddo, can I come in? I wanna see that beautiful dress of yours up close and I believe you have one inside for me?" You asked, and a second later the door opened, but Ciri was still frowning a little. "Don't worry about him. He's just a grumpy old man."

"A grumpy old man that can hear you." Geralt grunted from the table.

"You were meant to!" You shouted over your shoulder causing Ciri to chuckle softly before she stepped to the side and let you into her room.

She walked over to her bed and picked up another dress before holding it up for you to see, and it was gorgeous.

It was a simple long dress that looked a little too small for your liking, but the dark blue was a nice colour, you had to admit that.

"What do you think?" Ciri asked cheerfully.

"It might be a bit small. But I can try it."

"It will fit. If there is one thing I am good at, it is fashion. Trust me."

"Trusting you then."

Ciri was right. The dress did fit, and as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. It was beautiful and hugged your curves just perfectly.

“Can you go and grab my sword?”

Ciri nodded, walking out the room and leaving you to admire yourself in the mirror for a few minutes before she returned with your sword in her hand.

"Here. What are you gonna do with it?"

"I am not going anywhere without it. Here, I need your help. Can you pull the back of the dress away from my body?" You asked, taking the sword.

Ciri frowned a little but nodded and stepped behind you before grabbing the back of your dress and holding it away from your skin. You lifted your sword up behind you before carefully sliding it down your back until the tip of the handle was in line with the back of your neck.

"Hold the sword there while I tighten the corset."

"This is so cool." Ciri whispered, holding the sword against your back beneath your dress while you tightened the corset enough to hold the sword in place while still being able to breathe in the meantime.

"Ta-da." You said, holding your arms out as you spun around just to make sure that the sword was secure.

By Ciri's silence yet stunned look on her face, you were going to assume that you looked good and that she liked the sword idea. So, you smiled at the young girl before slipping back on your usual boots because why put on fancy shoes that hurt your feet when the dress was too long to see them anyway?

"Oh, wait, almost forgot the masks." Ciri said, snapping herself out of her shock before she rushed over to the desk and picked up the two masks. "Here."

To your surprise, the mask matched the colour of your dress identically and you had a few questions for Yarpen about why and how he had access to such clothing.

You slipped the mask on over your face while Ciri raised her handheld mask over her own and you both grinned at each other.

Dressing up like this wasn't something you thought you would enjoy. You grew up surrounded by boys. You never once had a girl around, it was always boys. And those boys, you loved them all like brothers, but this was something none of them would enjoy or do with you, so it was nice to let your hair down for once.

"Are you two ready yet?" Yennefer's voice called out from the main room.

You glanced over at Ciri, "ready to go?"

"Come on!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you out the bedroom just as Geralt stood up from his chair and had to do a double take when he saw you.

His mouth parted in silent shock, but no words came out. Those beautiful golden eyes looked you up and down, but he seemed unable to speak.

"Geralt, tell her that she looks lovely." Ciri prompted from beside you.

Geralt blinked, glancing at the girl before focusing back on you and clearing his throat.

"You look lovely, Y/N."

His voice was a little rougher than usual and you smiled taking that as a compliment before you glanced over at Yennefer who was standing in the doorway. She had a nice black dress and matching mask on, and as always, she looked absolutely stunning.

Geralt slipped on a large black cloak, hiding his clothes and white hair before the four of you left the safety of your new home and made your way to the festival.

The sound of music blasting and people laughing could be heard for miles before you finally reached the festival, and you weren't sure how many people you were expecting to be there, but it sure as hell wasn't this many.

Crowds of people covered the area. Many dancing, others standing around with drinks talking and laughing with one another.

"I don't like this." You whispered, leaning closer to Geralt.

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side while you entered the festival, your eyes frantically scanning the mass number of people cautiously.

"Just be on guard." He whispered back.

"Always."

Ciri had left to go dancing with the locals while you, Geralt and Yennefer found a nice quite spot by the ale tent. You watched Ciri as she danced, her smile so bright it was lighting up the whole area.

She was having fun. She was happy. That was the main thing.

It wasn't long before Ciri managed to drag the three of you with her to the maze. What a garden maze had to do with a festival was something you couldn't quite figure out, but Ciri seemed excited to go inside, so you followed.

You lost the girl within the first 30 seconds, Geralt and Yennefer also nowhere to be seen.

Maybe going in a maze wasn't the smartest idea.

You weren't too concerned though until the sound of people’s laughter around you turned into petrified screams.

Oh, that couldn't be good.

Scared civilians rushed past you trying desperately to get out of the maze and away from whatever had them so frightened. You could hear Geralt and Yennefer calling out Ciri's name from somewhere in the maze while Ciri shouted back at them.

Neither of them was with Ciri.

She was alone and in danger.

That realisation made your stomach drop.

Reaching back behind you, your fingers clasped around the handle of your sword before you pulled it out and held it up in front of you. The civilians were still rushing past, screaming and crying at everyone to run, so you did what you always did.

You turned around and marched towards the danger.

The ground beneath you was starting to rumble and you could hear the sound of something snorting and growling. You were close.

"Ciri, where are you?!" You yelled, trying to run through the maze, but your tight dress was restricting your movements. "Fuck it."

You hacked away at the bottom of your dress with the sword. The blade slicing through the blue material until your legs were free from the restraining fabric, the dress now super short, but at least you could run.

"Ciri!" You continued to shout as you ran, turning left and right, but continuously finding yourself facing a dead-end.

Fuck, mazes really sucked.

"Y/N?!" Ciri's voice shouted desperately.

You looked around and realised that searching for Ciri in this maze like this was too time consuming. The tall hedge to your left had a stone feature beside it and you knew that was your best bet.

Without hesitation, you climbed up the stone wall to get the high ground before spotting Ciri a few rows away. The girl was slowly backing away from a large monster and-

Oh, fuck was that a Jackapace?

Its body resembled that of an armadillo, but a hundred times more terrifying. They were blind though but used their sense of smell to navigate and of course, to locate their targets. It's target right now, was Ciri.

It didn't even care about you, it was zeroed in on one thing, and one thing only, that little girl.

You ran along the top of the maze, jumping over rows to get to Ciri, but the Jackapace was already charging at her and you knew you weren't going to reach her in time.

Ciri raised her hand and started chanting in Elder trying to use her magic before Yennefer suddenly appeared behind her and used her own magic, throwing the monster back a few meters to buy some time.

Oh, thank God.

Geralt appeared out of nowhere, slicing his sword along the side of the creature, but it simply whacked the Witcher away with its thick tail, sending Geralt flying through the air and landing on the ground, hard.

That was all the time you needed before you leaped over the last row of the maze and jumped down, spearing your sword through the Jackapace's head, pinning it to the ground.

The monster shrieked in pain but didn't die. It thrashed its body from side to side while you struggled to hold the sword down through its skull. If you released the sword, this monster would go feral and Ciri who was somewhere behind you, would be dead.

"Geralt!" You shouted, using all your strength to keep its head pinned to the dirt. "It's heart. It needs to be stabbed through the heart!"

"Move!"

You yanked your sword out and jumped backwards, trusting Geralt's word blindly. The monster reared up on its back legs, its body now twice as tall as it roared down at you before Geralt suddenly slid under it and stabbed his sword up into its chest, the blade piercing through its heart.

The Jackapace's angered roar died in its throat before Geralt pulled his sword out and the monster collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

You let out a sigh of relief before you turned around to find Yennefer standing beside Ciri who was staring at the dead creature with wide eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, rushing over to the young girl.

"Yeah, yeah." She nodded, unable to pull her eyes away from the monster.

"Hey." You said gently, stepping in front of her and blocking her view of the creature before her green eyes met yours. "I was never going to let that monster get to you. You know that, right?"

"I know." She answered honestly before she looked down at your dress and frowned. "It's ruined."

You chuckled, "dresses were never really my thing. They look better on you."

That caused the girls eyes to brighten a little, a small smile forming on her lips before Geralt walked over to the three of you, scanning you all for injuries before letting out a sigh of relief when he couldn't see any.

"We need to leave." He muttered, motioning for you all to follow him.

Nobody dared to argue or say anything as you followed him through the maze. You were already lost in this damn thing, but Geralt somehow seemed to know his way around and before you knew it, you were walking back through the woods to your cabin.

"You good?" Geralt asked quietly, glancing over at you.

You nodded, "thanks for the backup."

“Thanks for the save.” Geralt replied.

When you returned to the cabin, you all got to quick work with backing up your things because this location was no longer safe. If that monster managed to find Ciri, then more would too. You had to move on.

"We'll find another home." Geralt insisted, looking over at Ciri who was sadly packing away her items.

"I liked this one." She whispered, refusing to look at him.

"We all did." Yennefer's voice responded, walking into your cabin with her bag already packed. "How did that thing find us?"

"A Jackapace hunts by scent. It found Ciri because it knew her." Geralt answered.

"Her scent? How?"

"Vesemir told me that Rience stole Ciri's blood from Kaer Morhen." Geralt began to say, coming to the same realisation as you. "He must have used the blood as a scent marker."

"Great. That's just great. Perfect. Fucking perfect." You swore, leaning your back against the wall as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "So, wherever we go, that fire fucker will find us?"

Geralt glanced over at you sadly, "yes... unless we find him first."

"We draw him out." Ciri suddenly said, bringing your attention to her. "We give him the thing he wants most. Me."

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N- Season 3 is finally out!!! (well part 1 anyway)

So I am back with new chapters as we continued on with y/n's journey with Geralt, Ciri, Yen and our favourite bard! I hope you all enjoy ❤️

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #henry cavill #joey batey

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aphrodites-law · 11 months

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Clarke wakes up eight years in the future, where her college best friend happens to be her girlfriend. Part 5/? (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4)

It was such a beautiful day that Clarke almost felt bad they’d sit in a dark movie theater for two hours. Lexa seemed happy to just hold her hand as they walked down the street, chatting about one of the business projects she was working on.

Clarke knew questions about Lexa’s work were like flirting with danger. There was no way Other Clarke didn’t already know everything about her girlfriend's career, while she could barely hold the conversation. Parks and the environment had never made her feel so dumb. Luckily, Lexa didn’t seem to notice any gaps in her knowledge — or lack thereof.

If Clarke was still on edge about the whole situation, at least it would’ve been nice to have some advantages. Her memory being so selective was a thorn in her side. It was like she was forced to walk this future with horse-blinders on because she might break it irreparably otherwise. It was all so… careful, tailored, that Clarke was starting to reconsider her stance on dorky sci-fi. Maybe Raven had cobbled together some kind of monstrous time machine and then stored it in Lincoln’s basement.

“Do you want Milk Duds?”

Clarke tried to refocus. They’d arrived at the concession stand of the multiplex, where a teenager was shoveling popcorn in a paper bag. Clarke didn’t remember this theater in particular, but the buttery-sweet smell put her at ease. Lexa and her went to the movies whenever they could, treating themselves to sweets. It was familiar territory for once — there was nothing to worry about.

“No, you always hoard them,” Clarke replied mindlessly.

“Do not,” Lexa protested. “You just take forever to eat them.”

“You have to suck the chocolate first.”

“Here we go.”

“What kind of person just bites into them right away?!”

“I don’t know you and I don’t hear you.”

Clarke grinned, finding it so much easier to fall into their banter than more serious exchanges. When the teen set their popcorn on the counter, she reached for her purse to pay but heard a snort and the smooth swipe of Lexa’s credit card.

“Yeah, right,” Lexa said.

They made their way down the hall toward their screen.

“So I can’t pay for my own food at 30?” Clarke teased.

“Not the day of, grandma.”

“Wow, look who’s talking now.”

Lexa pinched her ass so fast that Clarke let out a startled gasp.

—

It was a coming of age story on the raunchy side, with loud scenes and moody visuals in nightclubs and college dorms. Clarke felt completely disconnected from the story, knowing she would forget it soon. The more obvious reason was that they were done with the popcorn and now Lexa had her hand on her bare thigh.

She wasn’t even… doing anything, but it was there, and Clarke didn’t care about any character or any damn plot point because her best friend’s fingers were touching her skin. She could admit that much.

The real mistake had been comparing how Lexa and her usually acted at the movies. Sitting next to each other, sharing food or candy, but never… touching with purpose. Inevitably, Clarke wondered how she would’ve reacted if her Lexa had ever attempted this. If she’d held her hand and made no move to let go. Clarke wanted to believe she would’ve been effortlessly cool about it, but her current state showed otherwise.

Breathing was a tall order and her hands felt clammy. There was no one behind them at least.

“Lexa…” she whispered, glancing at her.

Lexa had a small smile but seemed otherwise focused on the movie. Her hand inched up higher, beneath her dress, and then stilled again.

In the cover of darkness, Clarke realized her assumption she’d be safe from her own desires was a joke. The secluded but still public space made it worse – forbidden in the kind of way that made her ache. Now it made sense why Lexa had responded so positively to her movie suggestion.

From the way her body was reacting, Other Clarke clearly had a fantasy for this type of situation, and Clarke had tapped right into it. Which was unfair, because how could she know she enjoyed this before she even knew it!

“Fuck,” she cursed, her fingers digging into the armrest. With her free hand she reached for Lexa’s wrist, a weak attempt to stop her.

“Lexa,” she repeated quietly. “What are you doing?”

Lexa drew small circles on Clarke’s skin, like an apology. Only it wasn’t. “It’s okay, baby,” she murmured a few seconds later. “Sit back.”

There was… no way. Clarke couldn’t. She couldn’t. But her heart had started pounding and the heat in the pit of her stomach felt unbearable. She knew this feeling but never this intense. There was no scenario where she didn’t take care of this. And to Lexa, there was no scenario where she didn’t care of this.

Which was exactly why Clarke needed to choose her next words carefully: “Not here,” she pleaded, and then: “I’ll be too loud.”

It had the effect Clarke had hoped for. Lexa lost all semblance of control and looked at her, her mouth parted open and her expression unreadable. Yet in the dark room, Clarke could still see the change in her. Could feel how her hand’s soft touch turned into a possessive grip. Fingers pressing into flesh, then her thumb rubbing against the spot as if she worried she’d hurt her.

Lexa was quiet for a beat, then cleared her throat and gathered their belongings. “Come on.”

She’d entwined their hands without Clarke even realizing it, or maybe it was her who’d reached out first. Clarke wasn’t sure she could tell left from right anymore, or if she could even walk to wherever it was Lexa was taking her. They left the room discreetly, but the lights in the hall did nothing to snap Clarke out of her mounting desire.

It felt like the fight had been lost the moment she’d suggested they go slow. Slow had meant eventually, and with Lexa, eventually seemed to only take a few hours.

—

The restroom was miraculously empty for now, but the toilet stall Lexa had dragged her in was a tighter space than expected. Clarke felt a thrill.

Lexa pressed her against the door with little restraint, hand cupping her cheek as she kissed her deeply.

Clarke pulled back and looked into her eyes, knowing she didn’t want to stop her. It wasn’t just how her body reacted to Lexa’s hands or mouth. Wherever they were, from the comfort of their apartment to the cramped confines of this stall, she felt home. Home with Lexa. Attuned to her touch, her smell and her taste. The most mind-bending, confusing event of her life was happening, yet she felt safe. Tethered to this new life as if it was her own. Or could be, at least.

Lexa rubbed their noses together. “Breathe,” she whispered.

Clarke tangled her fingers in her hair. “I’m okay. Just wondering… why the toilet is the romantic setup I get.”

“What do you mean?” Lexa replied with a smirk. “You love traditions.”

“Tradi-”

Lexa kissed her again, her full lips like warm velvet against hers. She kissed her until it almost felt silly that was all they were doing, and really, Clarke was sick of fighting this. She reached for Lexa’s hands and brought them to her breasts, where Lexa needed no further instruction to palm them.

“Fuck, Clarke, I can’t do the whole slow thing anymore.”

“You can’t?” Clarke repeated pointlessly, too lost in the feeling of Lexa’s hands on her body.

“It’s your birthday,” Lexa said against her neck, inhaling when Clarke tilted her head to the side. “And I have so many presents to give.”

Her hands went down to her waist, her ass, and then pushed her dress up. She never looked away from her, smile growing as Clarke’s eyes darkened.

“Lexa…”

It was all she could find to say. Just the name of the woman in all her thoughts. She felt so needy; a need to connect with Lexa in all the ways they never did in her time. She pulled her close and kissed her, chasing her tongue. When Lexa moaned, she was reminded of what she’d told her earlier – how her kisses felt different. Clarke thought, good, let them be different. Let Lexa be surprised too. It was only fair.

Lexa’s hand was beneath lace in a matter of seconds, fingers finally pressing against her.

“Oh, god,” Clarke breathed out, knees buckling.

“I’ve got you,” Lexa promised, firmly holding her thigh up with her other hand.

When she entered her, Clarke’s body felt so overcome with pleasure she briefly worried she’d come on the spot.

“So wet,” Lexa husked in her ear. “I wish I could get on my knees. But not yet.”

Fuck. Clarke closed her eyes, thankful for the small mercy. She wouldn’t have been able to stop Lexa from licking into her if she wanted. Not even for a second. She could only focus on her fingers filling her, harder and faster with every moan that slipped out of her.

Lexa took her quickly, like she worried someone would rob them of this moment if she didn't. Or couldn't wait to see her fall apart. Her eyes never looked away and her skin had a slight shine under the harsh light. She’d never looked more confident; more beautiful. And Clarke felt attractive too, though… with her tits nearly out of her dress, her leg hooked around Lexa’s waist and her fingers buried deep inside her, she should’ve felt dirty. And well, she did, but not in a way where she’d later feel empty. Where she’d be reminded she was someone you had fun with, but that was all. Lexa made her feel like a fucking bombshell. Was showing her that they were on the same page in every facet of this relationship.

Clarke wanted to last longer but couldn’t, needing release like she needed air. It hit her hard, just as Lexa found a different spot and adjusted her angle, because of course she knew every inch of her body. She muffled her moans in Lexa’s top, though she doubted it helped.

Lexa pressed small, tender kisses on her neck while she rubbed her clit in tight circles, whispering I love yous between Clarke’s sighs. For a moment they simply came down the same euphoric wave together, not in a rush to find the world again. When she finally pulled out, Clarke whined in protest. She couldn’t get enough, now wanting nothing more than to make Lexa feel the same.

She’d crossed the line, and there was no part of her that wanted to go back.

#clexa #clexa fic #w #well she lasted half a day it's not too bad #f: citf

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violentvaleska · 22 days

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𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵃⁱʳ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟs ʏᴇᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sɪɴғᴜʟ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅᴏᴍ/sᴜʙ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴏɴᴇs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs: ↫ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ɴᴇxᴛ ↬

ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: @ajmiila02 @xiernia @sunniisyde @raginginferno267

13th September 850

Tomorrow will be the day we take back Shiganshina and I'm certain we will. I had the opportunity to present a possible strategy to the Commander, the Section Commanders and the Captain in a meeting today. Commander Smith decided to go with my concept and promised me a promotion if it works. The truth is, I don't think I'll need it. My visions end by tomorrow, and I have reason to believe that it will be my last day on Earth. Not only will it be mine, but so many more will die. I find the deaths of Armin and Moblit especially devastating, but I have chosen not to tell them. Their dedication is remarkable, and their loss will compensate for the lives of others.

I thought about talking to Captain Ackerman one last time. Things have been icy between us ever since what happened in the forest, especially after he found out the truth about Kenny Ackerman. Before the killer died, it was revealed that he was Levi's uncle, it must have been devastating for him. I'd be lying about my feelings if I didn't say that my heart flatters every time he looks at me, but things aren't the same anymore. I miss the days when I disliked him, when it was easier to hate him than to love him.

You put the pencil down on the desk and lean back in your seat, relaxing against the wood as you close your eyes. Your muscles ached from training and your head ached from dinner. You had eaten meat for the first time in months, and so had the rest of the scouts and guides, hungry teenagers and adults fighting over a piece of steak or chicken tenders. It was both amusing and exhausting to watch. You sat in between Hange and Marlene while you made fun of them with the other squad leaders Dirk and Klaus. Levi ate quietly and didn't bother to show any form of enjoyment, as usual. Soon after, Klaus declared that he wanted one last night out before the mission, probably expecting it to be his last. Most of the higher-ups agreed, everyone except Captain Levi. He just rolled his eyes at the idea and glared at you when you agreed to join them later that night.

That was a few minutes ago, now you are not so sure it was a good idea. You've never been close to any of the group leaders, except for Levi once. But he made it clear that you were nothing more than his second-in-command, just another squad leader under his comment. His desire for you was apparently short-lived, and now your relationship is nothing but rocky and icy. "He's a sadist." You say to yourself as you get up, grab your cardigan and walk out of your room, following the corridor to the main entrance where you agreed to meet the others. Your mind dances in circles around Captain Levi Ackerman, remembering how seriously he took his training over the past few months, trilling you to the point of exhaustion. You once fell unconscious after he held you in a chokehold for too long.

Ackerman is frustrated and you are the source of his dismay, that much is clear. Though you can't quite put into words what it was that made him angry with you in the first place, it's humiliating and overwhelming not knowing what's going on, it makes you feel like the day you woke up in the infirmary all those years ago: weak.

The walk to the bar is filled with Hange's loud, ecstatic voice and Marlene's happy laughter as the two of them reminisce about the day Levi joined the Corps.

"You should have seen him, Faye! He was so brooding and frustrated with his horse". Marlene remembers, holding back a laugh as she grins at the memory, which makes you smile at the thought. You can only imagine how impatient he was.

"So he hasn't changed much, hugh?" You wonder, turning to Hange just as she throws her arm over your shoulder and pulls you close.

"Nah. He was probably born with a frown on his face. But you must tell us your secret. How do you do that?" They speak in riddles, making you raise an eyebrow at their strange question.

"What do you mean? Do what?" Hange giggles as Marlene appears on the other side of you, her big eyes meeting yours.

"You're the only one he looks at with tenderness." She explains, grinning with excitement at her and Hange's observation. The other squad leaders roll their eyes and give each other a knowing look.

"No, he doesn't!" You argue, finding the thought of Captain Levi Ackerman looking at you like that more than ridiculous.

"Yes, he does! He's all over you." Hange cries with a wide grin as Moblit tries to calm her down, begging her to lower her voice as they pass a group of strangers. Still not believing them, they head for the nearest bar, where music and alcohol are more important than anything else at the moment.

The bar is filled with people, and in one corner musicians are playing a happy tune that seems to put them in a good mood. You know this place well, you've been here almost every weekend with other scouts, hoping to find some sort of escape from your depressing thoughts. Here and there, you have even thought of going with one of these men, just for the sake of distraction, but in the end, you have never allowed the desire for company to get the better of you.

"Nice place." Dirk says, smiling at the happiness that surrounds the place. He's a bit older than Commander Erwin and Captain Levi, something that's rarely seen among the scouts.

"Yes, let's have a drink." Hange says happily, pulling you along as they order something called a "spritzer", a mixture of white wine and sparkling water. You've never tried it before, but you're surprised at how refreshing it is.

Barely tasting the alcohol on your tongue, you order another round, underestimating how it will hit your bloodstream. You feel less exhausted after a few minutes and simply enjoy the moment, closing your eyes for a second to let the atmosphere sink in. After a third cup, Marlene leads you onto the dance floor, takes your hand and happily dances with you. Soon you are joined by the others and for the first time in a long while you feel an emotion you haven't felt for months: happiness.

You are torn from your thoughts as you bump into someone and turn to apologize to the man as your eyes widen in surprise.

Levi Ackerman. Rumors of his newfound surname are spreading like wildfire, and combined with the fact that shit is going down tomorrow, the Captain of the Scouts is in desperate need of something heavier than beer. That, and after accidentally overhearing a conversation between Eren and his friends, he certainly needed something strong to clear his head. "The sea." He speaks to himself as he makes his way to the cosy looking bar. Music blares from the open windows as he winces at the sight of people happily dancing in the crowd. He recognises some of the older scouts and just rolls his eyes at their childish behaviour. His thoughts drift away again, trying to imagine what this great body of water might look like. Armin Arlert wants to see the damned thing, and Levi is determined to take the brat there, even though he can't get the thought out of his head that he won't be able to.

"Lauda?" You ask, looking at the former member of Hange's squad in astonishment. During a mission outside the walls, he was injured and lost a leg, which led to his honorable discharge.

"Faye!" The young man shouts through the noisy crowd, smiling as he notices the others. Hange greets him with a hug, while Klaus points to his wooden leg and asks how he's been. After a little chat, Lauda turns back to you with a cheeky smile and offers you his hand.

"Would you like to dance? I may not be as agile as I used to be, but I still know how to have a good time!" He assures you, making you giggle as you take his hand and return his smile. The young man leads you into the middle of the bar, making you turn and twist to the music, while he keeps a steady hand on yours, supporting you as you dance. You start to feel tipsy and by the sixth round you feel the alcohol taking over your senses. The evening may turn out to be even more interesting than you expected.

As he enters the bar, new thoughts cross his mind as he walks to the bar and takes a seat in the corner, away from the cheering scouts. "They'll drop like flies." He thinks and averts his eyes, the chilling image of none other than himself appearing before his mind's eye. A tightening in his chest as he quickly orders a glass of whiskey, trying to suppress his brain's obsession with you. "Not just my brain." He scoffs at himself, shaking his head as he swallows the burning liquor the bartender shoved down his throat. "She got into my heart too."

As his eyes roam the crowd, Levi orders another glass and fixes them on a drunkenly dancing figure, a woman who, from behind, looks terribly like you. He continues to stare, prying eyes following the swaying hips and floating skirt.

"She's a pretty thing, comes to the bar almost every Saturday." Turning his head, Captain Levi registers the bar owner's words and gives him a dark look. He picks up the glass, turning his head just in time to see the dancing woman turn, and to his shock, it is you. His eyes widen as his throat burns from drinking too much whisky too fast. You are there, dancing with another soldier he recognises as a member of Hange's squad, Lauda. A man with dark, rather long brown hair and a slight build. He remembers him as a squad leader too, though he hasn't seen him since he was injured during a mission. His eyes fix on the prophet on his leg as he shakes his head, wondering how the brat can still move with wood instead of flesh for a foot.

"Every Saturday, you say?" Levi takes another sip, eyeing Lauda suspiciously.

"Don't get your hopes up, Captain. She never takes a man home." He blinks, noticing that the bartender obviously hasn't realised that you're a scout too.

“Plus, I believe she's a bit young, don't you think?” The comment was unnecessary, causing Levi to roll his eyes in annoyance as he swallows the last of his drinks. He takes a few coins from his pockets and places them roughly on the bar with a thud. Not bothering to register the other people in the room, he walks straight up to two trained soldiers, ignoring the way Hange yells at him for being late to the party he hadn't even planned on attending.

With a quick swirl of his hands, he grabs you by the hips and turns you to face him, away from the confused Lauda, who just stares at him with disdain. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks glow red, the smell of wine clinging to your heated body.

"Levi!" Hange's booming voice breaks the awkwardness as he approaches you with a broad smile.

"I didn't think you'd come." Klaus notes with a frown as he carefully observes the way the Captain's hands are placed around your lower abdomen. Levi lets us go when you do, cursing under his breath at the way he's handled the situation. He was far too impulsive and certainly has no right to stop you from dancing with another man, even one of your own age.

"I didn't either." He admits with a deep, frozen look on his face as he locks his eyes with yours, watching you quiver under his steely gaze.

"We need to talk about tomorrow." Levi demands, letting go of your hips to cross his arms over his toned chest.

"Alright guys, let's go get a drink and let the party boomer here scold poor Faye." Hange comments, leading the others, including Lauda, away from you and your captain. The tension is thick, suffocating even, as Levi once again enters your personal bubble to grab your arm and pull you with him.

"You're ridiculous." You insult him as you struggle against his hands on you as he leads you out of the bar into the cool night. The cardigan and the alcohol keep you warm as you feel goose bumps forming on your legs. Your skirt doesn't offer much protection and you can feel Levi's eyes on your exposed skin as a breeze ruffles the fabric. It makes you shiver, but you are not sure if it is because you are cold or because Levi is watching you.

"What did you want to talk about?" You ask quietly, looking at him with dilated pupils as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. He pushes you into a darkened alleyway, away from prying eyes.

"You come here often?" Surprised, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Why?" The answer seems uncertain, even hesitant, as you remember that his original reason for separating you from the group was something else.

"I thought you wanted to talk about tomorrow." Questioning Levi is something you wouldn't advise anyone to do, but you're too drunk to follow your own advice.

"Tch. Just answer the question, brat." Captain Levi Ackerman rolls his eyes and doesn't seem at all bothered by the change of subject.

"Yeah. Almost every weekend." You reply quietly, avoiding his piercingly cold gaze as you focus on the pavement beneath your feet. He sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to control his temper. His grip on your hand tightens, obviously unhappy.

"Do you always let men touch you like Lauda did?" Levi demands, gripping you tightly.

"No!" you snap back before hesitating for a second and taking a deep breath. "He just held me."

"Held you? I'm sure he wanted to fuck you." You jump at his vulgar words and look at him with wide eyes.

"Are you jealous?" You ask, scowling at his hypocritical behaviour.

"Don't be ridiculous, Faye." The Captain refuses, biting the inside of his cheek angrily at the lie that has just passed his lips.

"You have no right to judge my actions!" Your voice rises slightly as you continue to argue with Levi, hoping he will leave you alone.

"I should!" He argues back. "If you were mine, I would..." You cut him off with a sneer, mocking him with a fake smile.

"You'd do what, huh? I could have been yours, but you chose to push me away." You screech in pain, the smile falling from your face as you move closer to him.

"I should have known you never really wanted me." That seems to provoke him enough.

"It doesn't matter what I want!" Levi growls at you, clutching your wrist tightly, trying not to lash out, but your words cut into his soul. You whimper at his touch, trying to suppress the urge to cry out in pure pain.

"Don't you understand? I can't let my perversion ruin you, it will only hurt you!" He bites, pulling you deeper into the alleyways, trying to bring your drunken self back to headquarters.

"Perversion, yes, that's right." You exclaim, eyebrows furrowed and flames of suppressed rage in your eyes. "Don't you just love hurting me? Like right now, are you trying to break my fucking wrist, Levi?" You point and slap his hand. To your surprise he lets go and turns to you with a weary expression.

"Yes. I want to hurt you." The truth hits you harder than the freezing air around your legs as you take a step back from him.

"But why?" You shudder, not yet fully understanding the intent behind his desires. You knew that loving him would hurt, he demonstrated as much that night in the woods. Though, you remember moments of lust too, where the pain only added to your arousal.

"I can't explain it." Levi offers honestly, shame colouring his cheeks red. The drinks he downed just a few minutes ago seem to have finally affected him.

"Then can you show me?" A bold question, especially coming from you, considering that you didn't even dare to talk to him about anything non-military for months.

"You don't know what you're asking."

Oh, but you do. Levi has been there ever since you opened your eyes and kept on growing. Even though you haven't seen him for years in the training corps, there's still something that keeps you connected, something that still urges you not to leave his side. It feels wrong to say it out loud, but you know what you are asking. You would let the strongest man in humanity touch you any way he wanted, as long as he made you feel that way again. It's shameful, yes, but somehow you can't help but be drawn to his unorthodox way of lusting after you.

"I do. I think about that night a lot." You confess as you cross your hands behind your back and look at him with your eyes wide open and your heart pounding. Levi watches you, not quite trusting your words.

"You're drunk. I'll take you back to the base." He offers to your disappointment, placing a hand on your shoulder to push you further forward.

"But it's the truth, Levi! Please, I can't stop thinking about you, I need you." It feels pathetic to admit these shameful thoughts, especially with the unreadable expression on his restless face.

"Faye-" His voice seems to be stripped of all self-control, indicating that he is beginning to give in.

"I could be dead tomorrow, please let us enjoy each other just this once."

Levi is stunned, his lips parted in surprise at your demands that seem to mirror his desires. Maybe it's the whisky, or maybe his stupid hormones are the reason for his carelessness, as Levi breaks the distance between you. In a matter of seconds, his hands are around your waist as he pulls you into his arms, his lips crushing against yours. Hot waves hit both of you and you feel his hands move slowly down to your hips, catching you off guard as he gropes your bottom and lifts you up hungrily. Your lips are still locked together, fighting for dominance as you cross your arms and legs around him as if it's second nature. Levi pushes you against a wall, the cold brick pressing into your back as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to reveal your bare legs.

"Captain..." You whimper, breaking the kiss to get some fresh air. Levi's hands grip your thighs tightly, planting a heated kiss under your ear. His hips move into yours and you can feel his hardened member pressing against your damp panties.

"Fuck, look what you're doing to me." He moans, a deep sound escaping his throat as he presses his midsection against you. Pain follows his action as his hands scratch the inside of your leg, leaving you a whimpering mess.

"Needy thing." Levi curses as he catches the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth, almost drawing blood. You close your eyes, welcoming the burning sensation with a moan of pain and tears. Distracted by his attack, you barely notice his fingers gliding over your clothed core, only opening your eyes in shock as he applies pressure to the area.

"Levi." Saying his name like that under your breath only emboldens him to continue as he brushes the fabric of your underwear aside. The moment his fingers touch your bare clit, a loud yelp escapes you, your mouth opening and closing like it's hard to breathe. And it is, as Levi's free hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it shut.

"You're too loud." He complains with an amused smile, looking around to make sure no one has heard your obscene screams. Captain Levi has lived a truly selfless life these past few years, he deserves this, he deserves to indulge you, Levi tells himself.

Your breath is ragged as his fingers push through your tightness, splitting you open slightly. It's hard to breathe, but with the way his fingers push into you, you don't care. Your belly burns with heat and a deceptive lust that washes over you in intense waves as Levi adds another digit to fill you even more. The hand around your neck loosens and moves quickly to your shoulder, stabilising you against the wall. You breathe in hard, still feeling dizzy from the loss of air. All you can manage is a desperate whimper as your arms squeeze tightly against him, trying to hold on to him.

Wet sounds ring in your ears as Captain Levi increases the speed of his fingers, curling and splitting them in a way that leaves you numb with pleasure. You are a mess, breathing heavily and biting your lips as you feel a tight knot forming in your stomach. You arch your back, your chest touching his as your head rolls back into your neck. You feel your muscles clench around him, your high leaving you breathless, a ragged whimper breaking through your throat as your nails dig into Levi's neck. His hand grabs your hair, pulling at it as you ride out your ecstasy.

You wish this moment could last forever, but it ends too soon as Levi quickly pulls out of you, forcing you down onto the rocky pavement. He takes his time to clean his hand from your silky release as he looks down at you, your legs shaking from the aftermath, bruises and marks covering your sweaty skin.

"You won't die tomorrow." Levi speaks in a cool voice, brushing back his dark hair.

"This was just a taste. Maybe I'll give you more when things are finally over." His words promise a possible next time, but you can't help but feel a deep step in your heart as he walks away, leaving you to sit there in the dark alley, drained and alone.

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 7 months

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Title board created by the wonderful @mochie85! Thank you again for this beautiful header!

Epilogue: Next Christmas

Three-hundred and sixty-five days go by...will Loki return?

**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count

“You let them drink?” you moaned, rolling your eyes at Brunnhilde, who was already barely capable of figuring out how to use a bar stool, swiveling unstably left and right as you confronted her with only partial seriousness. “You do realize most of them are still young girls, right?”

“Oh, shove off, it’s New Year’s!” she replied, swigging from a silver stein in front of her. “Plus, I know you don't get Asgardian biology, but our livers are a good degree better than humans. I’m sure the girls are fine.”

“Uh, Dagmar just puked on her horse,” you continued. “Hilds, I was so optimistic when I started the New Valks with you, and now it looks like I already have to start an AA.”

The King dismissed this with an awkward hand wave. “Oh, Dag’s never been the best rider.”

You grunted. “She wasn’t riding him. She was…trying to milk him.”

“Y’know, I miss the quieter, more frightened you sometimes,” Brunnhilde mumbled, finishing her drink and slamming it on the table.

“No you don’t,” you said, tapping your finger on the bar and looking at the clock again. 11:32pm. Loki had 28 minutes left to make his deadline.

It wasn’t as if you expected him to come barreling back at 12:01 the previous night, but, of course, a part of you hoped that he was so maddened with desire to be back in your arms that he couldn’t wait until the last minute. Every minute that passed that day made your heart drop a little more in your chest.

“I meant what I said the other day,” said Brunnhilde, “If he flakes, he’s banned from New Asgard forever.”

“I told you not to go that far,” you scoffed. “There will be no regrets, no matter what happens…aside from maybe regretting allowing our recruits to be teenagers.”

Establishing the New Valkyries was no easy task. After a month of recruitment and bribery, you were only able to assemble seven young women, all under the human equivalent of twenty-two years old. Apparently, the Valkyries had a bit of a reputation not unlike a motorcycle gang, and some of the residents thought they were going to be more trouble than they were worth.

Sometimes, you agreed with them.

The “New Valks” all had great hearts and courage, but when the King procured horses for them, and it took the better part of a month just teaching them how to ride, you began to realize the two of you were in over your heads, just a little. Still, some slow progress had been made over the year, and by the time Christmas rolled around again, at least four of them could wield a broadsword without pulling a muscle.

Brunnhilde pounded on the bar with her fist, and the bartender at the other end of the counter immediately drew a rune in her direction, instantly refilling her stein.

“If you want to go out there now, I can tell the girls to cut it out and go home,” she sighed. “Killjoy,” she added with a murmur.

Twisting your lip, you felt a small pebble of fear roll around in your stomach. “You’d have thought he’d be here by now.”

“That god always liked to make an entrance,” the King explained. “You should have seen the ‘worship me’ shit he pulled at Ragnarok. I’m not surprised he’s planning to make his grand return at 11:59.”

“You think he’ll show up?” you asked hopefully.

Your best friend shrugged. “Who's to say? I guess I’d rather put up with His Heinie-ness lurking about if it makes you happy.”

You looked at the clock one more time. Only four minutes had passed.

“Yeah, I can’t wait any longer,” you admitted. “Tell Dag she’s got stable duty tomorrow, hangover or no. She needs to learn some self control already.”

“Will do, Cap.” Brunnhilde nodded and raised her stein in a mock toast. “Good luck, Y/N.”

The night was crisp, the air clear, a gentle snow falling from a browned-over sky absorbing the ambient noise from the village. You still preferred a warm, gentle summer shower, but this kind of winter’s night had its own stillness, its own kind of petrichor that made you feel at home.

The year had rewarded you well, even though it wasn’t exactly easy. The New Valks, ragtag as they were, looked up to you, and knowing that you belonged somewhere, with friends to seek out and people who depended on you in spite of your terrible gifts…it was home. You were happy.

Katja was beginning to fade, and you especially could sense it. She was still around, but her energy was lower than it had been the last year, and you had the solemn feeling she would be reuniting with Ivar in the coming months. You were thankful, however, that her expiring seemed to be rolling in like a peaceful evening wave, which meant you likely wouldn’t have to visit her bedside to send her off as you had with Ivar. You still hoped you would never need to do that again.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was good on their word to leave you and New Asgard be, as was the Flock. Last February, you mysteriously found a large delivery of flowers, fruits, and candy in the town square, along with a single Bible addressed to you specifically. Brunnhilde concluded this was their odd way of thanking you for sparing their ‘queen,’ and that the truce was solidified. The Bible made good kindling for your fireplace, but the children of the village appreciated the treats (after you and Brunnhilde made sure they were safe, of course, and they were).

You made your way up the hill with just under ten minutes until midnight. Looking back to the faint glow of New Asgard down at the shore, you smiled.

Even if you found something better out there, Loki, so did I, you thought. We both won your wager in the end.

However, you knew that if he missed his deadline, you’d still go back to your cabin (indoor toilet included) and weep for days. You craved Loki more and more with each hour. Your braid, still tightly tucked behind your ear after a year of careful maintenance, only provided so much. As he’d warned, it was only a projection of Loki not unlike the ones you’d seen in Star Wars.

Of course, you’d still kept it out for hours the many, many nights you were alone in bed, with only your hand for lustful company. However, you never brought it out around another person. Loki, even as a simple image, was yours and yours alone to cherish and admire.

The daisy he’d woven into your hair had remained fresh and full all year long thanks to the magic embedded within it, and it hadn’t begun to fade until Loki’s birthday several weeks ago: December 17th. After then, it was as if the flower was a countdown clock, the petals had begun peeling away, once a night, at exactly midnight. Tonight, a single petal remained in your braid, and it was hanging on by a single fiber to the rest of the stem.

Your breath formed curling tendrils in front of your face, perfectly resembling the death energy that lay beneath your skin, dormant nearly all the time, only ever used in defense as a nuclear option. But you no longer saw yourself as a beast meant to be locked away. The Universe itself seemed to have bestowed its greatest, most constant power onto you, and however that happened when you were young,it was finally a part of you that you were willing to embrace.

You took a deep breath. You didn’t have a watch with you, but you knew you only had a few moments left. Each one that passed without any indication of a spacecraft landing made your heart sink a little lower.

Loki, if you really are planning to make a last-second entrance, I may actually kill you, you grumped from within.

Then, the ten-second countdown to the new year began. You could tell from the collective swelling of cheers and counting from New Asgard below. You held your breath and looked to the skies.

10…9…8… C’mon, love…

7…6… Nothing. No lights, sounds,or deep, sexy voices.

5…4…3… Goddamn it, Loki…

2… A tear pricked the corner of your eye.

1! Happy New Year! There it was.

The last petal fell from your hair and slowly floated down toward the pile of snow at your feet that you’d nervously been kicking up as you waited. Biting your lip, you wish you had more alcohol, and you decided before sinking into a sad cry, a few dozen beers would numb the fresh heartbreak to start off the year.

What was so damn great about space that was more attractive than you, anyway? Was there some three-titted space whore he’d latched on to?

I suppose I could go out there myself and try to find him…and to kill that three-breasted alien slut who kept him from coming back!

Then, you heard four words calling to you from the bottom of the hill. Four words in a deep, sexy voice. Four words that you’d been waiting three-hundred and sixty-five days to hear:

“Sorry I’m late, love.”

At last.

Your mind was racing, son your feet spoke up for the rest of your body, turning and practically throwing yourself down the hill into Loki's extended arms. The impact of you against his chest threw Loki over his heels and back into the snowdrift, where you pinned him down at the shoulders. Tasting his cool, delicious lips after an entire year suddenly felt like not a moment had passed at all.

Loki returned your passionate kiss by wrapping his arms around you and holding you fast to him. You were covered in his safety, his fulfilled promise, with a renewed sense of love that neither of you had felt in a long time, but that you could now share with one another for eternity.

You never felt more alive.

The END The Beginning

Than you to my taglist of wonderful readers, mutuals, and supporters! Please visit my main masterlist for updates on my next WIP and more Loki stories!

As always, I hop you enjoyed my story! Please comment/reblog!

@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @admiralatthebowofnails @vanilla-daydreaming @technicallysassyfox @ozymdias @fall-myriad @sititran @lokisdeadcat @blog-the-lilly @satrkovaza @wolfcyanide

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onboardsorasora · 7 months

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i’m obsessed with enchanted au daniel😭😭😭😭😭😭 hes so cute 😭😭😭 his mom is worried about people taking advantage of him🥺🥺

Omgosh Anonstie I saw this ask right before bed and this all just came rising out of me. 🥺🥺 he's her precious boy. Here's a little backstory on our disney princess. I hope you like it💕💕

Part 1

Part 2

Grace always told Daniel to be careful of people and he didn't always listen. Michelle tried to look out for him but she had her own life to live, as much as she loved him– she couldn't put her life on hold to protect him.

And he didn't expect her to. He didn't know why everyone made a big deal when he would go off driving by himself, or if he'd hike in the woods at the edge of the property. He knew he was supposed to let them know where he was– that's his bad– but sometimes the call of nature was just too powerful. The bird songs on the wind were too catchy, everyone wanted to show him the new babies they all had and he….he couldn't not go.

And it was fine for a bit, he felt bad when it looked like they were scared because he ran off but young Daniel didn't know any better. Truly.

People were nice and kind to him when he was a kid, even as a knobby kneed teenager with a huge fro, big bright eyes and a too big smile.

Michelle had told him not to do it, but he thought Caleb was his best friend. And you share your secrets with best friends. He learned the hard way that things change when people find out that you're magically adept and they aren't.

He thought it was all normal interactions until he started feeling uncomfortable at school, with people cornering him and asking to do things he couldn't or wouldn't do. Demanding that he do tricks or tell the animals around to do things that could hurt themselves.

The first time he came home with bruises, Michelle threatened to beat everyone up who hurt him. Daniel smiled and told her it was fine. They rode dirt bikes in the yard until dinner, and he asked her to not tell Mom.

The second time he came home with bruises, they also came with a cut lip. Grace cried and held him close. He told her that he saved a kitten, so all was well.

She kept him closer after that and he allowed her whatever made her feel comfortable. He wanted to be free to fly like the birds or race like the horses. But he stayed close to home because he loved it so.

He fell in love once…And he didn't sing for a year.

Grace cried when he came home because it was over.

Daniel's first tattoo was a ship, sailing on the high seas. The mom and dad banners fluttered in the wind when he showed them. They glowed with his happiness.

He never left Perth, he had no reason to. He had everything he ever needed at home. But the birds were compelling and their song spoke of adventure. And he got free snacks.

Part 3

#he has to have a little struggle and strife because we're keeping his parents alive lol #enchanted au #Disney princess! Dan #Disney enchanted au #my drabbles #my ficlets

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violivs · 19 days

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NMTDaily: A Wild Hero Appears

- It makes me a little sad that Bea tweets out this video with “meet the prettier version of me”. You’re beautiful in your own right, Beatrice, and I don’t think Hero would want you to compliment her by putting yourself down. This moment starts to show Beatrice’s insecurities, in a very teenage-girl way. It feels very accurate to that time of life for sure.

- What’s interesting, though, is that this tweet, where Bea thinks of herself as less pretty than Hero, is a direct parallel to and reversal of the moment in a future episode when Claudio tells Ben who he likes (Hero), and asks what Ben thinks of her, and Ben says he prefers her cousin, naming no names. These lines are adapted from the play. Now, I’m not going to say it’s good or ok for the guys to be comparing the girls to each other, even unintentionally, and of course Beatrice has to develop her own self-confidence outside of what anyone else thinks of her. But it is very sweet that at the time she makes that self-deprecating tweet, Beatrice already, unknown to her, has someone who looks at her before anyone else, who always thinks she’s the prettiest girl in the room. It’s just that even he doesn’t know it yet! Ben has thought Beatrice was gorgeous since long before he could admit it to himself, and that just makes me happy.

- I bet Hero’s “you’re not so bad looking yourself, Bea” is her answer to the tweet. She’s too sweet even to directly address it.

- Hero reading TFIOS is so incredibly 2014. (I can also tell she’s an actress and isn’t actually reading it right now because she’s that far into the book and she isn’t SOBBING. I’ll never forget how hard I cried and I’m not afraid to admit it.)

- “Hero it’s Darcy on a horse” being the thing to get her attention is hilarious and adorable and how many Jane Austen Movie Nights do we think she and Bea have had? Definitely some!

- Hero is adorable and we love her enthusiasm and many many video ideas 😆

- there are so many amazing quotes in this episode. “room tour. room tour. ROOM TOUR”; “I am very proud of the witty capabilities of 3-in-the-morning me” amazing.

- Bea is starting what’s essentially senior year in April at a new school. That has to be stressful. Good that she seems cheery about it. I’m sure she’s not at all worried about who else is in her classes…

- Now I want lemonade! Lol. But US lemonade for me. Research is telling me that NZ/Aotearoa lemonade is just basically lemon soda, like it is in the UK, as opposed to the US lemon juice + water + sugar situation. I hope Bea gets to try US lemonade on her travel year. It’s so good when it’s good.

- the Hersula origins! “She’s so lovely I catch myself wanting her to insult me” 💕

- Shoutout to the NMTD Fandom Revival Discord for catching the fact that Bea’s line “what is this cake even for” is a reference to the TARDIS cake Ursula shared on her tumblr, showing that Ursula and Hero surprised Bea with the cake for no reason at all, they’re just that sweet and lovely!

- A brief aside: Ursula’s tumblr has been lovely. She’s posted lots of desserts including one that she said is her dad’s specialty, so now I headcanon that she likes to bake because it’s something she and her dad do together. Ursula lore!

- Poor Meg. It’s tough to be an early bloomer, and you can tell the girls know they shouldn’t be making fun of her for it. I’m glad Hero told Bea to stop, but she was still going along with it and was the one who said the “Queen of Scream” line. We know they’ll learn, though.

- I also notice the link to Ursula’s first video in the description of this episode is now broken and goes to a page that says the video doesn’t exist. Fortunately VOX POPS is alive, well, and next in the playlist. Interesting how links break over time.

- This episode is apparently from before the characters start answering YouTube comments, I checked the comment section. That’s something I’m interested to see whether the NMTDaily emails will highlight, because I remember the characters’ comments being very fun to read! Good for immersion too!

- I’m embarrassed to even admit this, and I blame growing up without cable tv or video games, but I’m just now realizing this title is a Pokémon reference. This show was always even nerdier and more full of pop culture references than I realized! Excited to see if I find anything else I didn’t get before!

💖🥭🦩

#nmtd #nothing much to do #nmtdaily #violivs nmtdaily liveblog #a wild hero appears #i did have PBS and books and VHS/DVD movies and playing outside I promise my childhood wasn’t that deprived

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vro0m · 1 year

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(unserious) analysis of the 'My first day' answers

Charles : couldn't decide on a handwriting style, has the musical taste of a teenage girl (not a bad thing), has lost all personality beyond being a Ferrari driver, is probably gonna get the Prancing Horse tattooed at some point

Carlos : has lost all personality beyond that Smooth Operator thing that happened 4 years ago, didn't understand he had to sign the board

Oscar : of course he listens to house music look at him, "achieve my dream" is kinda cute

Lando : looks extremely depressed, apparently no ambition beside staying alive this year (relatable), didn't understand he had to sign the board

Logan : had to say what state he's from as all US-americans like the rest of the world gives a shit, even indicated the state his favorite food is from, he does look like he would listen to Eminem, "USA! USA! USA!"

Alex : said he's called Albono, doesn't know what music he likes which is a red flag in my book (sorry), just wanna be the prettiest blond around the paddock

Nyck : also doesn't know what music he likes which is a red flag in my book (sorry), "live my dream" is also cute, the newbies still have hope

Yuki : the band is called Hentai Shinshi Club. That's all I have to say. It doesn't match his baby face.

Pierre : didn't understand he had to sign the board even though they literally wrote it down for him, of course he likes Drake

Esteban : solid song choice

Max : I'm precisely 0% surprised he didn't write down a song, who's fav food is tomato soup?, just wanna eat well (relatable)

Checo : didn't understand he had to sign the board, writes like he's 8, color esperanza was exactly what I thought it was before looking it up

Valtteri : extremely happy to be here, simple man with simple ambitions, my hype song also changes every week

Guanyu : "rap!", girls just wanna have fun

Kevin : I don't think I've ever seen someone in the whole F1 world referring to him as just "Kevin" until now but I've chosen an editorial line and I'm sticking with it, I didn't know what smørrebrød was but it seems nice, the song is... a choice...

Nico : said his name was Hulk, can't write, what the fuck is his fav food, of course he listens to house music look at him, oh btw look at him, he doesn't wanna be there, his ambition is to get tanned, he should go back on vacation and leave his seat to someone else, didn't understand he had to sign the board, that smiley face looks like it's in about as much pain as he is

Lance : happy to be here, holding the board like a toddler showing a 'first day of school' thing for a photo which is kind of the point, writes like he's 12, "this year I will... great :)", didn't understand he had to sign the board

Fernando : 23, 23, 23, doesn't listen to music, doesn't look like he's gonna have fun in the photo, didn't understand he had to sign the board

George : couldn't decide on a handwriting style, basic ass music choice, also holding the board like he's a toddler

Lewis : wasn't there

#don't come at me #f1 #2023

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apamates · 4 days

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Realm of the elderlings ask meme thing

Thanks for tagging me @khutsydoh !! I love thinking about my favorite wet dog of a man

Favourite Rote book: Fool's Errand

Why: I'm a romantic at heart, ngl. The domestic bliss, walks on the beach, late night talks sipping brandy by the fireplace, the Fool reading everything Fitz had written (!!!!! I can't think too much about that one without wanting to explode), Fitz getting every surface of his house lovingly carved by the Fool... Just the truly incredible way Fitz described that bubble of happiness and feeling whole (even if he was still forged!!!) just because the Fool was there with him and Nighteyes. I love it when a character is the most repressed being ever and the love still bursts through because it's just that strong.

After every awful thing that happened in Ass Quest, I definitely think Fitz deserved a time away from the Farseers to rest and find himself outside of all the roles he had to perform for the crown. Though, 15 years in nearly complete isolation except for Hap and Starling are a strech, he really was running away from life like the Fool said. Him coming back to Buckkeep and facing all the people from his childhood as an adult felt so amazing to read. I personally feel a lot for Fitz and his complicated relationships with his family. For him to meet Chade honestly and make him see how much he hurt him was !!!! Him hating Dutiful at first just bc he saw so much of himself as a kid in him and tbf Dutiful is a tangible reminder of all the trauma from his teenager years, so Fitz having to process all that was exquisite too.

Funniest mission ever to have to find a teenager that's unknowingly horny for a cat, but the Fool and Fitz can turn it into a secret identity rom com and I ate it up!!! Happiest book of the trilogy for me and it's because Fitz was happy to be near the Fool.

Top three favourite characters: Beloved in all their facets, Patience, Ronica

Top three least favourite characters: Regal, the Satrap, Civil

Favourite ship of the floating kind: Ophelia bc she's an agent of chaos

Top 3 ships of the people kind: Fitzloved, Althea and Jek (Robin Hobb really missed so much potential), Patience and Lacey

Would you rather be witted or skilled: Skilled

If you were witted, what animal would you bond with: Probably my cat bc we already spend nearly every hour of the day together.

Would you rather live in the Outislands, the Mountain Kingdom, the Six duchies, Bingtown, the Rain wilds, Kelsingra, Jamailia, the Pirate isles or Mercenia/Fool's homeland?: I haven't read the Fitz and The Fool trilogy so idk if I'd like Kelsingra but the Six Duchies seem like the better option just because I hate stuffy society and the cold, which rules out all others.

How were you introduced to the books: I love Chihayafuru and a wonderful artist I followed for that fandom posts about ROTE. I got the sense I would love to suffer about it and asked about the right order to read the books, thank you @leafykat !!!

Share a quote you love:

As I entered to set the pack on my table, the wolf was sprawled before the fire drying his damp fur and the Fool was stepping around him to set a kettle on the hook. I blinked my eyes, and for an instant I was back in the Fool’s hut in the Mountains, healing from my old injury while he stood between the world and me that I might rest. Then as now he created reality around himself, bringing order and peace to a small island of warm firelight and the simple smell of hearth bread cooking. He swung his pale eyes to meet mine, the gold of them mirroring the firelight. Light ran up his cheekbones and dwindled as it merged with his hair. I gave my head a small shake. “In the space of a sundown, you show me the wide world from a horse’s back, and the soul of the world within my own walls.” “Oh, my friend,” he said quietly. No more than that needed to be said. We are whole. - Fool's Errand

Sometimes a family is just two guys and their matchmaker wolf y'know

Tagging: @yevrosima-the-third @mistninja @leafykat

#rote #rote spoilers

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carolmunson · 2 years

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not givin' it up (rockstar!eddie x actress!reader)

h, smack, dope, horse, snow, persian, white, brown -- no matter what someone called it, he was using it. sometimes the promise of things getting better is enough to keep you coming back for more.

warnings: active drug use, addiction, drug mentions, withdrawal symptoms, manipulation, fighting, swearing, no happy ending, no makeups, just like how shit like this goes down, syringe mention, partying, angst, angst, angst, more angst

The first time you saw Eddie in withdrawal you thought he just had the flu. You had just started getting serious, still like giddy teenagers playing house together. You fawned over him, bringing him soup and crackers, orange juice, ginger ale. New symptoms popping up by the hour: sweating, shakes, aches, running nose, watery eyes, vomiting. “My poor baby,” you’d coo, while he’d whine and toss and turn in his water bed. He’d wake up hyperventilating, pale, vibrating – and it didn’t get better. He would cry at night, while you slept on the couch at the window, thinking you couldn’t hear him. You thought it was just from the pain – you’d shush him and hold him to your chest thinking 'He can’t be contagious at this point’, but he wasn’t contagious at all. After you called him out of rehearsal for the second time, the boys came over and sat you down in the living room. “He’s not sick, the way you think he’s sick,” they tried to explain, but you didn’t wanna believe it. “No, no, I’d know. It’s just the flu, it’s just…” tears welled in your eyes, “It’s the flu, right?” Gareth shook his head no, tapping his foot nervously.

“He – you know he wasn’t using for a bit, he got off it for a while when you both started seeing each other. He was doing really good,” Jeff said, “But you know how things are. In this industry? It’s everywhere.” “He’s so impulsive, and when he’s already in his moods y'know, he just wants to start the next party,” Gareth continued. “It’ll probably be another week, we’ve done this with him before,” Jeff said, putting a hand on your shoulder trying to make you relax. “He’ll be okay, just another week – we promise. We’ll help you.” They did, the whole band moved in for a week and a half – all half ready to call 911 at any sign of a turn for the worse. He recovered, slowly but surely, finding energy to get out of bed the following Tuesday. You’d repeat this process a few more times over a couple years until he finally decided he needed to go to rehab. It was all over the news: CORRODED COFFIN’S BAD BOY GETS CLEAN. As clean as he could – at least he wasn’t doing opiates (for now). It was the time after rehab that sent you over the edge. When he came back from the hospital, he saw you in the Hollywood house at the door with your bags packed. Two full sets of Louis Vuitton luggage filled the foyer. “Baby?” he asked, “You goin’ somewhere?”

“I gotta go, Ed,” you said with a sniffle, “Can’t do it anymore, I just – I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Whaddaya mean? Can’t do this with me?” he asked with a smile like he didn’t know what you were talking about, but his face was pained. He shut the door behind him, pulling you in so you hips were on his, his hands lacing over your lower back.

“I’m done with it, sweet thing, I promise,” he said, “This time, I’m done.”

“You said that last time,” you cried, “And the time before.”

“I know,” Eddie admitted, his voice low, “But I mean it. I’m done.”

“If it happens again…” you sighed, “I’m done, okay? It’s me or its her.”

“Heroin’s got nothin’ on you, baby,” he smiled, you didn’t smile back. He pulled you into his chest, rocking you slowly while you rode out the rest of your cry.

“Let me help you unpack, pretty girl,” he muttered, “Just relax. I’m here now, I’m with you.”

He got your name tattooed on his hip the next week just to prove he meant it. He’d never touch opiates, as long as you were in his life, he had no reason to do it again.

You left for Canada to guest star for a few episodes of a new TV show feeling confident, a couple months out there and then you’d be home. He’d be touring anyway, shows and press – the boys would be with him the whole time. You had nothing to worry about – he called every day, he sounded lucid, bright, aware. He told you about the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that.

It was okay. It was gonna be okay. You were so excited to surprise him at home a day early that you left your luggage a mess in the foyer, hearing him moving around in the main living room.

“Baby!” you called out, “I’m home! I’m –” but it wasn’t your 'baby’ on the couch. Ed was in the center, bent at the hips low, straw in his nose finishing up a line on the table. A pill bottle opened and empty, Oxy or Dilaudid you guessed, four lines neatly lined up behind the one he just finished. At the end of the table, a tied off baggie, a syringe in its packaging, his old tourniquet and a spoon. “Were you just gonna do it all in one go?” you asked, unsure how the question even left your lips. “Oh shit, shit, fuck,” Eddie said, holding his nostril with his knuckle, “Baby, baby no this isn’t–” “What is it then?” you interrupted, your heart was racing, “What the fuck is it? What the fuck is it, Eddie?” “Tour was gettin’ hard, baby,” his face contorted, his eyes watering, “I missed you.” “Missed me?” you asked, your voice starting to shrill, “Looks like you missed someone else.” “No, please, no,” he said, rubbing his eyes nervously, tears pouring down his face, “I didn’t mean to, you know it’s hard for me. You know how it gets, baby, I swear I–” “I told you,” your voice was low and grave, “That you had a choice. It was between me or her, and you picked her.” “I–I didn’t,” he said, realizing what you meant, realizing he was gonna lose you, “I didn’t choose–I’d never choose heroin. B-baby please believe me. It’s always you, I prom-promise.” “You chose, you chose what you wanted!” you started yelling once the hurt kicked in, kicking the edge of the table, the glass jumping out of place. The left over lines he had perfectly curated fell apart, the syringe and spoon clattered to the floor, the tourniquet bouncing under the couch.

“So get out! Get the fuck out! This is my house!” your voice was strong but you were shaking inside, refusing to cry, “You made your choice!”

“GET. OUT. Ed,” you hissed, your eyes bulging while he sat on the couch. He hid his face, hair shaking with his body while he cried into his hands. “B-baby please, no, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I didn’t even–I didn’t–I didn’t even do it. I didn’t shoot up, I–”

“You didn’t do it because YOU GOT CAUGHT,” you yelled, “Do you think I’m fucking STUPID? This was all here and set up by accident?!”

“N-no, I d-don’t,” he said, lifting his head to face you. His head slipped down and then back up as he caught himself slipping under, his brown eyes shining with tears and guilt, “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“You really did, you really fucked up, Ed–” “I messed up, please p-please let me fix it, I’ll go–” he stumbled to find his words, starting to slur, slowly standing up, “I’ll go back t-t-to rehab, just p-pleasedon'leaveme, don'leaveme. Please, I’ll do'nything.”

He moved slow towards you, his head dipping, bending at the hip, his breath getting ragged.

“Ed, sit down,” your voice got small while you watched him start to nod off, he looked so sick, “Sit down, Eddie.” You stopped him from coming towards you, guiding him back towards the couch. He sat back, his head turning to the side, his eyes half lidded. “You with me?” you asked him, taking his head in your hands, “You with me right now? Should I call an ambulance?” He took a sharp intake of breath, stretching his eyes open, only for them to become half lidded again. It hurt him to be honest with you, more tears spilling out while he fell in and out of the moment, “J-just did two, just did two.”

“Two what? Two pills? Two lines?” you asked. “Two lines,” he said, his face relaxing into the high, “Just gonna sleep. Gonna sleep it–gonna–gonna sleep it off.” “Ed?” you said, your voice was far away and fading, “Eddie?” — Eddie woke up with a jolt, drenched in sweat – he felt like shit. The living room was dark, light shining in from the chandelier on in the sprawling foyer. He inched his way up off the couch, coughing into his elbow, smacking his tongue against the top of his mouth thickly. He looked down at the table, still covered in powder, the little baggie of Persian still sitting there, goading him. He picked it up and put it in his pocket, guilt pouring over him while he remembered your face when you came in. So disappointed, like he did it to hurt you. “Baby?” he called out hoarsely – but it was a big house. The likelihood of you hearing him was slim. It was likely you had gone to bed anyway. He shuffled slowly to the kitchen, having to stop every few steps to dry heave, the cool sweat starting to pour from him now. He really fucking did it this time, christ. He cursed himself for not being used to it by now, the aches, the pains. He flicked on the light, squinting at the harshness. The white of the marble counter top offending whatever headache was starting to brew behind his eyes – but by the grace of whoever left it, there was a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol already out for him. His heart swelled, he knew it was you. Your little ritual, he gets fucked up, you fix it better.

But as soon as his heart swelled, it sunk. Next to the glass was a small plate with your engagement ring on it. The stone sparkled brilliantly, like you had cleaned it before you left it there. Under the ring was a single line note scrawled on your stationary in curly script.

Call me when you choose yourself.

Eddie took a harsh breath in, and started to cry.

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie au

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truedairship · 16 days

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Tell me more about your horse, please?

Ooohh boy never ask someone about their horse or they won’t shut up. Okay. I have no idea how much you know about horses, so I’ll try to keep the horse terms to a minimum.

Getting her is a bit of a funny story really. And kind of relevant. But background info: Us mere mortals can’t afford horses competing at the higher levels. Your only chance is basically to buy a promising youngster, train them yourself and hope that the stars align and that in a few years you can compete at the level you wanted. But most of those horses are quite expensive as well. Everybody wants those with good blood for a reason (blood = lineage, breed, how reactive yada yada).

I wasn’t even gonna buy a horse back then because I knew I would be moving abroad a year later, and I already had my pony. (Whom I had considered selling to afford a horse but whatever). Anyways, I helped my trainer break in her youngsters, they got an extended summer break after, and come winter she called me and asked if I wanted C. Because they didn’t get along. She had been a… special cookie… to break in, but an incredibly fun one. So yeah. I got a good horse real cheap because she’s crazy.

She’s… well, she’s a brat. A stubborn, explosive bitch that’s too damn smart for her own good and the biggest goddamn drama queen the world has ever seen. She’s also one of the most hardworking, powerful and talented horses I’ve ever ridden. Her teenage years were eventful to say the least, and it has been a lot of work to teach her some proper manners. I could probably fill a book with all the stupid stunts she’s pulled over the years. But at the same time, that’s kind of the charm. You never have a boring day with her.

Despite her attitude and the drama, she’s genuinely very kind. She just doesn’t show it if she doesn’t have to😅 But she never wants to drop her rider, I’ve only fallen off because we stumbled over an xc-jump and she almost did a somersault. And while she usually is too impatient to stand still, whenever there’s small kids around she won’t move a leg, but you can see her literally twitching because that is tiny human. Must not move. Tiny human fragile, stepping on will injure. She was also the one who accompanied youngsters on their first forest hacks at my old job, because, while hacking out usually is a rollercoaster ride of jumping away from invisible monsters hiding behind stones (thoroughbreds in my heart<3), when the kiddos came with, she was super cool and they could even run into her and she didn’t even bat an eye. Because they are her adopted siblings now and Ohana means family.

So yeah. She has quite the personality but this is already getting long. And when it comes to riding, well, attempting to avoid using technical terms, you can teach just about any horse to move fancy, but riding a horse that does it naturally is just something else. She does everything with such ease and such power. And she loves to learn new stuff, which to me is the most important part. I’d rather ride an eager horse with zero talent than an unmotivated one. Because having to force them to work… nope.

Generally with horses, if you have a bad day, it’s 50/50 whether you’ll have one of the nicest rides of your life because the horse notices that you’re not at your best, or you’ll have what feels like the worst one ever because nothing works and the horse decides that if you’re not gonna try your best, they won’t either. 9/10 times, she’s the first type (and considering that we sometimes can spend the entire warmup discussing whether the chair in the corner will eat us or not, that’s saying something)

That’s also kind of why I’m selling her. I don’t have the time to ride her everyday. So when I do, she’s super duper happy and energetic and it makes me feel all guilty that I can’t ride her more. And it breaks my heart every time she comes running towards me in the field all eager, only for me to give her a pat and a carrot then leave (makes me feel like a parent that doesn’t have time for their kid so they spoil them with toys instead😅). I usually give her a kiss on the nose as a goodbye, but lately she refuses to let me do it unless I have ridden her first. And no, that’s not an exaggeration.

Tl;dr: She’s a bitch, she’s amazing, she drives me crazy and she’s my best friend. Being allowed to ride her is an honour. (and unfortunately she’s aware of that😆)

#sorry this got really long #though you did ask so I’m not fully to blame #asks #thank you for the ask!

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