#yes yes lash out when a child panics

[spacebarbarianweird]

Astarion x f!Tav pregnancy headcanons

@treshmind @chillingintheunderdark @azu21 @rachelle-on-the-run

Masterlist

Headcanons

Ok, it turned out to be much longer than I expected. And very angsty

None of you have any idea it was possible to get pregnant

Astarion is a vampire. He definitely "shoots blanks."

The ability to knock someone up was taken away from him along with his life many years ago.

Until one day, you feel weird. Sick, exhausted.

It's not like you pay too much attention to your monthly bleeding (what's the point anyway?"), but you notice it's been a while

And Astarion, after feeding on you, says your blood tastes different. Not bad, not weird. Just different.

And the scent isn't like it was before.

You are terrified you've caught one of these magical sicknesses or curses no one knows how to cure.

You go to the healer, who gives you a herbal drink, saying, "Take this; it's good for the child, and don't bother me until you feel something is off."

And you stay in the healer's hut, shocked, trying to understand what kind of child he is fucking talking about?

Until you realize.

You remember the night half a month ago, when a group of thugs attacked the village where you and Astarion live together.

Astarion returned from the woods drunk with sentient creatures' blood, his eyes glowing red and his skin blazing hot.

He just swept you away from your feet, dragged inside, stripped you of your light armor, and pinned you to the bed until the next sunset.

It was not the first time he was that "blood drunk," - but it was the first time it happened one of the days you could possibly conceive.

It's just a coincidence. The coincidence you carry inside your womb.

You return home, scared and shivering. By the time Astarion notices you are back, you are already crying.

You have no fucking idea how to be a mother. You have no fucking idea how to raise a child. What are you carrying within?

A person? A monstrosity? Your own death?

What creatures are born from vampires?

Astarion is no less shocked.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and swears in Elven.

The healer may be wrong. You can't get pregnant.

And now you feel even more uneasy - what if you were assaulted?Do you have any memory gaps? What if someone used you?

Astarion leaves at sunset, and you stay alone with your fears

He returns in the morning, calm and quiet. Noticing you are still on your feet, he carries you to bed and asks to sleep while he "figures something out."

When you wake up in the late evening, Astarion has a sudden mood change

He is happy. He smiles. He pulls you to himself, placing a hand on your flat belly.

Then you notice a stack of books.

Dhampirs. Children of mortals and vampires. With insanely long lifespans, immunity for vampirism, and living beating hearts.

"You see. That's what we are going to have".

You slowly start adapting to your new condition,

The child grows fast, and your body changes. Breasts get a bit bigger, and you can't wear your light armor anymore (it is suddenly too small). You are constantly tired and hungry.

Even the most innocent teases from Astarion make you cry - and he panics every time it happens.

He has no idea how to handle a pregnant woman.

You quarrel. Constantly. Because you are both scared to death.

What is worse, Astarion has a serious regress. There are nightmares and self-harm tendencies. He runs away to the woods or the Underdark tunnels at least once a week, and you lash at him for leaving you alone every time he gets back.

Besides, it's his fault he didn't stop drinking blood that night

You have nightmares, too.

You envision a monster growing within you that will gnaw through your flesh any time soon.

And yes, women die in childbirth. Even if before that, they'd challenged the fucking gods!

One day, Astarion puts his head on your belly

He caresses it and whispers something in Elven.

"I hear the heartbeat," he says, eyes teary. "I hear our child's heartbeat!"

From that moment, everything changes,

He no longer goes away. He helps you bathe and dress. Brings everything you ask for and ensure you are comfortable sitting and walking. He prepares the place for the child (ignoring a very rational fear that either you or the child dies)

And he sews. He makes the set of clothes for the newborn, embroidering it with protective Elven runes.

Sometimes you both relax enough to discuss the future.

The day of birth comes much earlier than you expect. Almost a month earlier.

The midwife, perfectly knowing the father's nature, pushed Astarion out of the room.

And he spends a few hours helpless and desperate, hearing your cries of pain. If it was the night, he could at least go outside, but, as it happens, it's a sunny day.

He hates himself for doing this to you.

And as for you, you had no idea it could be so painful.

Finally, Astarion has enough and returns to you, kneeling beside the bed

The moment you see him, you grasp his hand as if you are drowning

And then it's all over.

A squeal, desperate and angry, rings out through the room, and you see a newborn in the midwife's hands.

A tiny girl with long pointy ears is placed in your hands. Not a monster. She isn't deformed. Just a baby. Who is very angry with the fact she's been pushed out from the warm womb to this cruel and unpredictable world.

Astarion can't believe what exactly he sees.

He has a child. He has a daughter. The most normal thing anyone can think of is now a reality for him, someone who once had to get out of his own grave.

Then you give the newborn girl to Astarion, and the moment he takes her, he bursts into tears, pressing the child against his chest.

The girl doesn't cry anymore, piercing Astarion with her dark eyes.

You, still tired and in pain, drink the healing potion left by the midwife and you look up at Astarion.

He notices your gaze and kisses you.

"My love, thank you. This is a gift", he whispers through the tears.

--

Tag list:

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #dadstarion #astarion being a dad #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

#ok bye bye #i might actually cry #911 abc #9-1-1 #911 show #tommy kinard #911 season 7 #lou ferrigno jr #bucktommy #evan buckley #911 spoilers #tk6 muses #how did this sort of turn into a fic too? #guys should I write this? #911 speculation #911 season 2 #sal deluca #henrietta wilson #chimney han #eddie diaz #abandoment issues #loneliness #I’m not sure if this is a headcanon that I’ll universally use #but this will be a theme in some fics

[kiatheinsomniac]

hi kia :) are you doing ok? i hope you are queen 💃 I was wondering if you could write how the assassins (altair, ezio, connor, arno, jacob) would react to a reader who suddenly passed out after standing up too fast 😭 it happened to me yesterday and it made me laugh so hard afterwards like thats the goofiest way to pass out ever 💀 iron deficiency queen 👏

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: bestie mood. i stand up too quickly and immediately go semi-blind and have to lean on things for support lol 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, ratonhnhaké:ton | connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

｡･:*˚:✧｡ altaïr ibn-la'ahad

♡ he's got the fastest reflexes you've ever seen, he's lunging to catch you so you don't fall or hit your head. He immediately checks that you're still breathing and will cup your face in his hands and give firm pats to your cheeks while talking loudly to you, trying to pull you back to consciousness

♡ when he finds out why you've passed out, he's immediately reprimanding you and sending you to go and eat enough nutritious foods.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ezio auditore

♡ he wasn't quick enough to catch you yes this is based on how quick you have to be to interact with the game or you don't get to hug Leonardo sobs but he does immediately check you over for injury, your head being the first he checks. He lays you on your back with your head in his lap as he waits the few moments it takes for you to return to consciousness

♡ he immediately begins to ask how you feel and if anywhere hurts and wants to know if you're sick or if you've been eating or drinking enough. He'll pick you up bridal style and cook you a meal himself if it's older Ezio but younger Ezio will lay you down somewhere cosy while he sends for a servant to cook for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway

♡ he won't show it but he panics. He's watched his village be burned to the ground as a child and his life's work revolves around killing people so when he sees you drop to the floor, his first though isn't that you've fainted but that you've died.

♡ he soon gets over that moment of gut-wrenching panic though and comes to his senses, immediately checking you over for injury, checking your temperature and your breathing. He sets you down somewhere comfortable, assuming you're now on your way to bruising from hitting the ground. He makes sure that you get plenty to eat and drink, trying to use the most nutritious ingredients he can for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ arno dorian

♡ another one who panics due to childhood trauma: when he sees someone laid on the floor like that, for a moment, that awful memory of his father flashes before his eyes. He's not so good at hiding his concern as Connor is though. The panic is evident in his voice as he calls out to you and dashes to your side.

♡ Arno knows to make sure that you haven't hit your head or anything and he sets your head in his lap while he waits for you to regain consciousness. When your eyes do open again and you look up at him, you'll see teary eyes and shaking hands on him. But he's just relieved you're ok. You'll get a very pointed tongue-lashing from him following by him insisting on making sure you're well-fed and hydrated

｡･:*˚:✧｡ jacob frye

♡ with quick reflexes and his very extroverted personality, Jacob is either fast enough to catch you or surrounded by some Rooks who he can call to so they can break your fall if he's too far. His first worry is that you're overworking yourself so he makes sure you get a break from work

♡ cannot cook to save his life so he's had to go out and order food to bring back for you (or he's begged Evie to cook for which he now owes her many favours) but he insists that you eat and drink well to recover

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@gojohater101 @ayameiris4 @veryfancydoilies @asuni921  @writing-noah @danielle-marie @minimisthios @tired-lime @ghostofpolaris @etherealsdreaming @loopycorn1123 @jofie-does-things @havatnah @weasleytwins-41 @firagirl @catou1305 @daddyadler @b3k1720 @asianbutnotjapanese

#✎ kia’s 2k event ༉‧ ��*.✧ #altaïr ibn la'ahad x reader #altaïr x reader #altaïr ibn la'ahad #altaïr #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #ezio #ezio auditore #connor kenway x reader #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #arno dorian x reader #arno dorian #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye

[ystrike1]

After Killing You - By Ttangjwi (8/10)

If your true loved killed you...what would you do if you woke up? Would you call the police? Lie in wait for revenge? No. If it's true love you'd say you knew it was an accident. Only a scratch. You'd stay together anyway....If you're totally crazy.

Eunsung is a child of divorce. Like, A Child of Divorce. As in, neither of his parents wanted him. His mother kicked him out as a teenager.

As a child it was much worse. He moved alot because the divorce was messy. His father liked to hit him. His mother constantly screamed that she did not want or love him. It's a real shame. Eunsung is a very handsome boy, and the author throws in a few hints about his brain too. He's very smart, but he's stuck with zero social skills because of his upbringing.

Eunsung gets overly attached to his first ever boyfriend, Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo is a handsome, kind loser. When they met Hyunwoo was a washed up chef working a convenience store gig. Eunsung was still a student. They were friends first. Hyunwoo was his only friend.

It become love. Then obsession.

Hyunwoo breaks up with him over his creepy behavior later on. You see, Hyunwoo gets better. After he starts dating Eunsung he improves himself. He gets back into restaurant work at the bottom. He goes to therapy for his damaged hand, so he can pursue his dream of restaurant ownership.

The problem is his new job opens doors. It eats up alot of his time...and he reconnects with his ex-girlfriend through the restaurant.

Hyunwoo notices that his relationship with an obsessive and directionless man with no dreams...is weird and its not going anywhere.

Eunsung chokes him, because he doesn't want his beloved to leave.

He does it too hard.

Then Eunsung wakes up next to his own corpse. Hyunwoo is no longer dead under him. He has entered a parallel world where Hyunwoo killed him by accident. Hyunwoo fought off his choking hands. He held up a knife in self defense...and he lashed out too hard.

Hyunwoo is at work, thinking about going to jail or hiding the body.

Eunsung hides his own body. He stabs himself...gently so he looks battered, and he waits for Hyunwoo.

He said he was acting crazy. They both did awful things, but he wants to give their relationship another chance.

Eunsung promises to be less clingy and more considerate.

Hyunwoo says yes.

He did love Eunsung. He just thought their relationship was unhealthy and stagnant.

Eunsung promises to go to school. He gives Hyunwoo more alone time and time to breathe. All is well....and Hyunwoo feels extremely guilty for hurting his lover.

He rationalizes that Eunsung's attack was more of a panic attack...not an obsessive tirade.

All is well.

Hyunwoo tries harder too.

Eunsung was in the wrong for following him to work and telling him to quit his job....but that's in the past.

He does love Eunsung.

The problem is his ex. A strong, driven woman who is also in the restaurant industry.

She dumped him before, when his hands got injured and his life went down the toilet.

Hyunwoo....isn't gay. It's a big problem in their relationship. He likes Eunsung, but being with a woman is both more natural and convenient for him...

He wavers, even when Eunsung tries his best to be less obsessive (on the surface).

It's (sort of) an accident.

A nosy coworker finds out that Hyunwoo has a (younger) boyfriend.

Hyunwoo feels awkward for even thinking about abandoning his considerate boyfriend

...who was there for him when his ex abandoned him...

Hyunwoo bites the bullet. He quits his job at the restaurant, and he starts saying the same obsessive things Eunsung used to say.

Eunsung wants to be happy, but he doesn't trust it. He's been hiding his madness, but underneath it all he's still the same.

He checks Hyunwoo's phone while he's asleep, and he finds out.

Hyunwoo met his ex secretly a couple times.

He was thinking about leaving.

Again.

Even though Eunsung did everything right this time.

Maybe....

He should try again...

Yeah....

That'll work...

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #yaoi #After Killing You

[disformer]

What do you feel is more concerning for children with what is in the EarthSpark series; all of the clear terror and death, or having a they/them pronouned character?

Because the terror and death is seemingly entirely looked over but the ONE CHARACTER going by different pronouns is apparently nothing short of outrage.

Anon, I Am Nonbinary.

I’ll put a more thought out response under the cut

Earthspark drinking game take a sip every time an extremely young child has to emotionally support an adult or is put in life-threatening danger.

1. Steven Universe really ruined a generation of children’s media by making showrunners think they had to tackle issues like PTSD and trauma.

However, to give SU some credit, Steven was not 9 years old at the start of the show. It’s a really jarring choice that was probably made to capitalise on a more marketable demographic for TF and to keep the children’s play more lighthearted, but you get some really weird moments like (checks notes) a nine year old giving advice to an adult on how to handle trauma.

The issue with this is no nine year old should ever have to do this for an adult. They do not need to be wise beyond their years. They do not need to be a therapist for their caretakers. Grimlocks PTSD episode is one of the most egregious examples of this, where (not only is this depiction extremely one-note and weird) the narrative punishes Jawbreaker for not realising Grimlock is having a panic attack in the middle of their play.

As a framing device in a kids movie, what is a nine year old viewer supposed to take from this? The child brain is going to think ‘the adult lashed out and hurt Jawbreaker, it was his fault for being too rowdy.’ LIKE YOU WOULDNT SEE THIS IN PEPPA PIG.

And you do need to consider this when you’re writing children that young in your media, because kids are going to watch shows that have other kids the same age as them in it. There’s an almost instinctive camaraderie in seeing a fellow nine-year-old on TV when you’re at that age. So, the show is very likely going to be watched by 8-15 year olds which brings us to

2. JESUS CHRIST. THIS SHOW NEEDS TO CALM DOWN.

This show is way way way too interested in putting children in extreme danger. Constantly, towards the end of the series.

I’ll make a note first that it’s okay if kids shows have fun play-violence; kids like action. Children like low-stakes explosions. It’s not super serious and most TF media does this well, even if it’s tonally a bit more serious. This is not really an issue in a show like TFP or TFA which also had young kids.

Earthspark does not make its action low-stakes. Earthspark treats its violence extremely seriously; children cry, they scream, they get bruised, their parents wail when they see them in danger. Violence has a lasting impact, it has to because the show constantly wants to talk about trauma, so they can’t have video game rules. If they get hurt it has to impact them. Robbie and Mo are in consistent, life-threatening danger. They’re always being shot at or dropped off cliffs or almost killed and it always harrows them.

And kids can pick up on this. They’re going to realise that this is something that’s Serious, and Scary, and they’re going to be FREAKED out.

They’re also going to be freaked out when the children are fuckin. Tied into the bio-wall with tubes by Mandroid, or when Robbie has alien leukaemia and his parents are so so scared and has to rush him to the hospital and Mo is crying so much, or when their parents are seemingly killed and the kids are screaming and punching the ground and blaming themselves.

And that last part is important, because on several occasions the narrative reinforces this. The narrative. Of a children’s show. Says yes; Robbie and Mo have powers, and this makes them responsible for the well-being of the adults around them. Mo literally gets told this. By GOD. Before her parents proudly watch on without interfering as she fights in hand to hand combat with the villain (WHO IS, AS WE HAVE SEEN, FUCKING DERANGED AND WOULD LOVE TO KILL A TEENAGER JUST ONCE PLEASE PLEASE)

In conclusion, what this tells me is the showrunners are inexperienced. They didn’t consider what is appropriate for the subject matter of a children’s cartoon. They wanted to write about trauma, and war, and think kids are cute! And didn’t want their TF fanfiction to be narratively compromised by having to ‘dumb it down’ for kids.

The result is this is never a show I would ever put on for a 4th grade class in break time, at the risk of severely upsetting a lot of them. And it’s also a show I can’t enjoy as an adult, because it uses the language of a children’s cartoon to make nuanced topics more binarised and soppy.

#ask #earthspark #critical #like there’s also. more. abt why i don’t love it that much #but this is the part that struck me. #used to be a kindy teacher btw #ES critical

[secret-smut-sideblog]

A Dangerous Thing

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, possession, near death, implied self harm, bhaal being fucked up, injuries, fear, hurt/comfort, fingering (f!), oral (f!), sub/dom, (mild) restraint, overstimulation

Almost losing her to Bhaal's influence, Astarion wont let her out of his sight again...

-

In trance he becomes aware of an absence at his side, her divine warmth missing.

"Darling?" He mumbled, fingers searching for her. A breeze on his cheek.

Eyes flashing open to the chasm of his tent door.

Gone.

Scrambling to feet he lunged out into the night, eyes frantic.

It was getting bad, he knew. Saw the way she would freeze, muscles clenching all at once. Paralyzed as she fought for control.

Would do his best to touch her with love, speak reassured to her rigid body. Help her back into herself, though he didnt know how much good it was doing.

We're close. She had sighed. The temple is near, I can feel it. Shuddered. I feel it everywhere.

Fuck. Fuck. He ran tent to tent, looking for those pale horns, those haunting eyes.

He had gotten sloppy, losing focus. Gods why did she put him in charge?!

"Whoa, Fangs! What's going on?" Karlach called, already pulling her boots on seeing the panic in his face.

"She's gone! Hells we have to find her!" He shouted, hands shaking. Eyes everywhere, in every shadow, every space between.

"Shit!" She went to wake the others, sounding out like an alarm.

Finally he saw a sign of her. Sharp footsteps leading into the forest, the heels deep in the mud. She had been running.

No time, he sprinted after her ghost. Calling out her name in big gulping shouts. Heard the others following behind.

I think if I couldn't control it anymore. She had whispered, their hands intertwined. Laying in blissful quiet. I'd end it. Said with such certainty, eyes resolute. It would be my last offering for the world. To stop myself. To leave it untouched.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not when she has given him so much. Not before he can tell her he loves her one more time.

Gods let him have this, this one bright beautiful thing.

He gasped out her name when he spotted her silhouette in a clearing. Sitting on knees in the dark.

His voice curdled in his throat as he drew closer, took in the full sight.

Her arms laying limp at her side, face wrenched up to the sky. Bhaal's red lights dancing sickening circles around the crown of her head. Eyes blown wide, glowing red hot.

"Here!" He shouted shakenly to the others somewhere behind, hovering around her. "She's here!"

Terrified into indecision. Hands reaching out, he had to do something.

"Get out!" Her jaw clenching down so hard he thought it would crack. He jumped back, breath caught.

"You are not welcome here. You are not me. You are not in charge." She hissed through her teeth, speaking to something unseen, rage dripping from every word.

"I guided your hand when you spilled your first blood." A deep nauseating voice erupted from her mouth, forming words with her lips. "I have always been here. I am all of you. I am eternal."

Her face going slack into a sickening smile. "You will to say yes to me, child."

Eyes clenching shut, face twisting, pulling back into her mind. "Fuck. You." Her voice venomous.

Lifted invisible by her throat she hovered in the air, legs slack beneath her. Feet grazing the ground. Sigils burning and whipping angry around her.

"I love you." Lashes emerging across her torso. "I love you." Cracking of ribs. "I love you." Arm wrenched from socket, flopping down at her side.

"Stop," Astarion breathed, despair flooding his vision. "Stop, stop, stop!" A rising scream chanted.

Her head lolling puppeteered to look at him. Eyes wide, all radiating crimson. A horrible smile smeared across her angelic face.

"The interloper..." It sneered in her features, amused. "Tell me, little waste..." Turning her in one motion to face him, hovering far higher above the ground. Her full body weight on her throat. Yet it still it spoke.

"Do you really think you can stop her?" Leaning her head down to stare condescending into him. "How long do you think she will resist her call? To deny her birthright?"

"I molded her myself, my body, my blood. She will heed to me."

"You're just another master, another piece of shit that needs control. You dont impress me." He spat. "I've killed one of you before, and I'll enjoy doing it again."

It laughed, booming. Lifting her arms wide, sigils spinning hurricane around her.

He heard the others coming up hot behind him, a flurry of noise. Spells, arrows, enchantments soaring through the air. All hitting mute against the cyclone. It cackled, delighted at their attempts.

Suddenly she wrenched back to the surface, body twisting. "Get away! Go!" Her desperate eyes reaching his. "I can finish this!"

"No!" He bellowed, enraged. "Let us help you! For once let us be the strong ones!" Bloody tears streaming down his shouting face.

Her eyes crumpled at his words and something in the hold broke.

In a piercing wail she fought against her restraints, hair whipping around her head. Pulling her limbs with incredible force against its control. Balling into herself. Releasing them out in a deafening scream. An explosion of force leaving her, pushing them all to their knees.

Prone, he watched her fall. Thudding silent to the ground. "No, no," He begged, crawling to her unmoving body. "Dont leave. Dont leave me."

Cradling her head he stared through thick water. Searching. Desperate. Hands coaxing, pleading, for her to come back.

Shadowheart, Halsin, and Minthara appearing quick at her side, pummeling healing words into her. Lighting her up in waves of blue.

"You can't go. I wont let you." He gripped her as they shouted around him, his tears dropping onto her mottled bruised neck. "I will search every corner of the afterlife and drag you back to us."

Giving it everything she had Shadowheart shouted one last spell, her hands bracing against her still chest.

Silence. Then with a heaving, gasping cough she returned. Hand instinctively finding his cheek.

A deep wail left him, pulling her into him, inconsolable. Body shaking with great heaving sobs of relief.

"Ow." She laughed wetly. Good arm shakily holding him. Eyes bright, meeting the tear stained faces that surrounded them through the window of his shoulder. "Hi everyone."

They all rushed around her, touching her, hugging her, voices all melding into one joyful choir. Still gripping her to his body they held him too.

Karlach planting big kisses on her face. Even planting a quick softer one on his forehead. "Welcome back, soldier!" She boomed. "Dont ever do that shit again!" Yelled with the same smile.

She laughed painfully, clenching her side. "Fuck, okay. You've convinced me."

"We need to get her back to camp." Shadowheart gently squeezed Astarion's shoulder. He agreed but still had his face buried into her. Tremoring.

"Let me lend some aid." Halsin smiled, offering his arms. Waiting for Astarion to release.

Loathe to let her go but knew he wouldn't be able to carry her in this state he nodded.

The druid lifting her gently into his arms she was absent from him. She gave a little sigh into the wide chest. He trailed close, never taking his eyes off her.

She smiled gently at him, reaching out for him. Finding his fingers in hers. Gods, she was cold.

He kissed them, pressing them against his cheek.

"You're okay to sleep, love." She hushed, trailing her hand down his back. "I can get one of the others."

In her tent, made into a makeshift infirmary he shook his head. Only last night she had nearly been lost and his body was still vibrating with anxious energy. Trying not to pace.

"We've moved camp, we're far enough away from the temple now." She tried to reassure. He waved her away, back still turned.

Her hand stopped on his back. Quiet. Still.

"I'm sorry I'm the one you love." A whisper.

He whipped his head, angry. The tears on his face that he had been trying to hide from her laid bare.

"No. No you dont get to do that." Eyes alight in equal parts adoration and indignation. "I have been broken apart countless times and you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. The only person who could ever understand me."

Face twisting in grief, in determination. "I have waited lifetimes for you. How dare you apologize."

Catching the light her tears slipped quiet out of her eyes. Even in this state unbelievably beautiful, always catching him off guard. Neck still patches of green, purple, yellow. Arm slung snugly in a sling. One tip of her horns now notched, caught in her fall. He trailed his hand along it tenderly, never to be the same again.

"I'm sorry." She choked, hearing the heavy catch in her throat.

"Stop." He stared hard into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

He pulled her hard into his body. Burying his face in her hair. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." He pressed his words into her.

"I will never regret you. I will never have something like this again. Even in a hundred years I will never stop thinking of you."

A sob wracked her chest, shaking into him. One arm gripping his shirt. Releasing her grief, her fear into his cool body.

He stroked her hair, wrapping his legs around her lower back. Pulling her fully into him. Yes, let it out.

They stayed like that for a moment, hands anchoring eachother. Her waves of sorrow striking his chest. Breathing in, out.

"When I die I'm haunting your ass so hard." She whispered raggedly, her tears finally slowing. He laughed, wiping his own wet face.

"I'd be offended if you didnt, my sweet."

Pulling back to look at him, eyes overflowing with love. "Ow, damn it." Readjusting her arm in its sling as she shifted. "How long did Shadowheart say this should take again?" She huffed. He tried to hide his smile.

"What's the point of healing magic if it doesn't get the job done..." Grumbling her frustration.

"Already thinking about the next task? Gods you're relentless." He teased.

"We have things to do!"

"Oh how could you possibly take a break, the torment you must endure." He admonished, trailing kisses along her face.

She giggled, the sound lighting up his heart. Caught her sweet mouth in a kiss. Slow. Deep.

She moaned lightly into him, hand cupping the back of his head. Pulling him in deeper.

He sighed contentedly, so glad to do this again. That they had more time. More time for him to get lost in her.

Her hand pulling the ties of his tunic.

"Wait," He breathed, to her discontented whine. Hand still trying to pull him open.

Threading his fingers in hers, he pulled away. "My sweet, slow down." Took her eyes in his. Her mouth slightly swollen from their kiss making him stifle a groan, despite himself.

"You're in no state-"

"Then be gentle." She countered.

"Darling..." He started, unsure.

"Please," She whispered, pushing her forehead into his. Threaded fingers tightening on his. "I need you, I need this."

Gentle, he thought. Gods did he know how to fuck gentle? Had he? Maybe some time in the past, long before.

Could see the nervousness in her eyes as well, asked for entrance to her mind.

She obliged, and he found their thoughts mingling. Not the exact same, but rhyming. Fear. Longing. Love. Pain. Things lost. Things terrified to be found.

He smiled warmly, pulling her back into his kiss. I told you. He spoke to her.

What? She thought.

You and I know eachother. I see you, you see me. See me so clearly.

So is that a yes? Could feel her cheeky smile against his lips.

He sighed, defeated. Trying not to prove his rising arousal as she gave a little squeal of triumph.

Now, how to do this delicately. He pushed them forward, laying her down onto her back. Hand bracing her slow descent. Though he focused on undressing her as softly as he could, his kiss was searing.

Her hand pulled his shirt hard over his head, he maneuvered his arms to assist her. Her leg hooking up under his, pushing it out to be straddling over her.

"Oh so only I have to be gentle..."

"Do you want me to be?" She rumbled in his ear, sending a shudder down his spine.

"Gods no,"

Pulling the last of her clothes off he stared down at her, breath taken. Both by her beauty and the state of her body.

Criss cross slashes stretching across her torso, sewn deftly closed. Bruises that veiled over her ribs. Could see the discoloration between the tight bandages holding her shoulder.

Trying not to be overcome again, he leaned down, ghosting soft kisses over her angry skin.

"You'll tell me if we need to stop, yes?" He urged.

She smiled down at him, carding her fingers through his hair. "Of course, my love."

Satisfied he continued his feather light lips down her front.

"How are you so beautiful?" He marveled.

Delighted in the blush that crept up to her cheeks. To make a bhaalspawn blush, his bhaalspawn.

"Darling this position you've so graciously put me in gives me an idea." He mused, absentmindedly swirling little circles on her clit. One leg over her hip, one between her thighs. He stood up on knees, getting a better feel. Oh this could work.

"Good thing your lower extremities are unscathed, sweet thing." Grabbing a pillow he lifted her by one plush thigh and pushed it under her hips. Heard her little aroused groan at being manhandled. "Yes this will do nicely." He preened, now had the perfect angle.

"I never doubted you for a second." She tried for teasing but couldn't hide the lust in her voice.

His free hand dragging soft up and down her entrance, joining his fingers already worshipping her hard mound. Hands busy he had the perfect view to watch her unwind under him.

Her head fell back, arching slightly. Horns digging against the pillow.

He slowly inserted two digits into her, shallowly pumping. The angle perfect to go as far as he could, but not yet. Just teasing her entrance. Fingers on her clit pushing more force. Her little gasping breaths goading him on.

Started pushing inside her with earnest, fingers curling in the way he knew made her mewl. Hand on her clit feather light.

Alternating his force back and forth between his two hands he could tell he was driving her mad. Slick already dripping down under his fingers.

"Astarion," She groaned, hand gripping the sheet.

"I'm all pointy ears, darling." He teased, switching hands again just to make her gasp.

"Gods, please fuck me already." She panted, looking into his eyes.

"Ah, but we need to be careful." He purred, smiling like a fox cornering a hen. "Nothing too strenuous, you know. Gotta make sure you're-" Both hands with pressure, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Up to it." He finished.

"You know I can kill you, right?"

"Oh we're doing threats now," He hissed, smiling down over her. "How rude."

Both hands working in a blur she was an incoherent writhing mess. Hips trying to get away. He sat his weight on her side, pinning her there. "Oh come on now, I know you can take it."

He knew she was so close to being undone as he watched. Her hot panting groans getting more frantic, higher. Hips squirming helplessly under him.

Leaning over he looked into her eyes. "I want you to come all over my hand."

Her eyes went wide then squeezed shut. Face contorting in anguished pleasure. Clenching down hard on his fingers she wailed an esctastic cry. Hips jutting up into his body, hiking him up. Shocked by the strength of her.

Moving down quickly he pushed his mouth into her, tongue working rapidly. Taking up the pace of his fingers.

She almost screamed, hand gripping his hair.

Wrapping his arms around her retreating thighs he ravaged. Groaning into her, already so much creamy slick pushing out of her. All for him.

Already on the cusp of a second orgasm he watched her through her spread legs. Suckling down hard on her clit, merciless.

"Oh gods, oh fuck," She whimpered, head craning back. Pelvis shaking.

So perfect, you taste so sweet. He thought to her, connecting their minds. Honeysuckle... Groaning into her.

Her mouth falling open in a silent scream, eyes hitching. Seizing under his mouth, head lolling. Her body an arched bridge. Sharp talons leaving his hair and ripping into the sheet.

He palmed over her overstimulated core as she collapsed, knew his cool hand would bring relief. Kissing softly below her navel. Her body still trembling, breath regaining from the drown of her pleasure.

"If I wasnt already in the infirmary.." She breathed when she found her words again.

He laughed, sliding in next to her. Adjusting her slightly so he could slot under her. Wrapping his leg around her side, straddled behind her.

She fell back into his chest, already spent.

"Damn, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I was." She laughed, threading her hand into his.

"Told you." He murmured into her hair. Pulling their joined hands to his lips.

She got quiet for a moment, knocking her head gently into his.

"I'm going to get better, I promise." Speaking on more than her injuries.

"I know, my sweet girl."

~

Part 5

#this one got away from me ngl #possession scene Heavily inspired by ptolemaea by ethel cain (lyrics from it too) #astarion smut #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

[soubi122]

How Long? - Part 5

Warning! Manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, thoughts of baby trapping, fear, angst, anxiety, possessive Ran.

Three more chapters left!

Last Flight

Sitting on the cold floor reminded you of how much you hated this feeling. The feeling of falling, the feeling of fear, panic and helplessness. “Pack your things…” Ran repeated his words with less enmity. It was supposed to be a relief but he made you feel just the opposite. You didn’t know whether or not he’d lose it again. 

Packing a carry-on with the essentials, you bid your home a silent farewell, not sure if you’d even make it back alive. This was the one place you thought no one would find you. On the complete opposite end of the country, in a small town and away from the city - you were free. Free to live your life quietly and peacefully, away from the blood, turf wars, drugs and sleazy men and women. It was a good two and half years.

The drive to the hotel was quiet, as much as the scene was to die for, you couldn't help but feel anxious. Ran kept his hand on your thigh, almost as if he was afraid that you’d jump out of the car at any moment. A little paranoid, no? 

When you arrived at the hotel, you could see the woman at the front desk straighten up and unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse. She had no idea what this man was capable of. Her pretty smile dropped when she saw you come up from behind Ran. “Welcome back sir. Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked while fluttering her expensive lashes. He waved her off and proceeded to call the elevator. Ran didn’t even look in her direction and it made the woman pout. If only he could have been like this to all the women when he was taken. Perhaps you should have let her take him, he might have actually proven you right - once a cheater always a cheater. 

Opening the door to his room, you were met with an abundance of papers and maps. This looked like the room of a serial killer or a conspiracy theorist. He proceeded to throw away all the scattered materials and packed his belongings. While waiting, you built up the courage to speak. “Ran, I will book a hotel when we land.” You say with hopes of him understanding. “No, it’s safer if you stay with me.” He said without even looking at you, he was adamant about not letting you go. “I think it’s best not to draw any attention, I don’t want anyone to start investigating and potentially endanger Bonten.” It was a valid argument, with Bonten being under constant surveillance and with you being dead, it made sense to stay away temporarily. “I don’t care, you’re not-” He began to protest but you cut him off with two reasons that made his blood run cold. “I’m dead, remember? Besides, Mikey will really kill me if Bonten gets involved in my murder investigation.” Shit, you were right. You were always right. With a heavy sigh, Ran drooped his shoulders in defeat. “Promise me you’ll let me stay somewhere else.” It was hard to say yes to that question. He wanted to keep you with him, what if you decide to run away again? What if someone recognizes you? However, you evaded him and everyone else for 3 years - you must already know how to avoid detection. “I promise.”

After checking out of the hotel and dropping off the rental, you and Ran were waiting at the airport for the flight to commence boarding. Many couples strolled by, many were on their honeymoon or returning from a family vacation and had kids with them. Seeing and hearing how these couples interacted with each other, it made you nauseous. Especially while sitting next to the man that single handedly destroyed your life. This could have been you and Ran if he wouldn’t have cheated on you. The thought of having a child with him broke your heart. Biting back the tears in your eyes, you looked down at your cell phone, pretending to have gotten a notification or some sort. You knew what life was like with him, but how would have it been if he stayed loyal, would you be raising a child now or would you be the wife of a man who has several mistresses? The thoughts were eating away at you and Ran could tell that you were beginning to fidget in your seat. 

“Now boarding flight 757 to Tokyo. Now boarding flight 757 to Tokyo - Narita Airport.” The woman on the intercom said. Thank goodness - you couldn’t stand a second more of this awkward silence between you and Ran. The flight was about 3 hours long, luckily Ran had gotten decent seats but oh how the gods love to fuck with you. A couple with a baby was seated in front of you, the baby looked to be about 1 year old and their chubby little cheeks made your heart melt. They were considered a lap passenger so the baby was in the couples’ arms at all times. You could tell that they were first time parents.

The plane was in the air and your journey back to Tokyo began. During the flight, you remained quiet and avoided any conversation with Ran or the flight attendants. Mid flight the baby began to cry, however, the mom was not there. The flight attendant returned to inform the father that the wife was in the bathroom pumping. You could kind of see the panic in the father’s face as they weren’t used to having the baby cry. He would turn around and look back to see if the mother was coming back but she was still pumping in the bathroom. The neighboring passengers were getting a little irate about the baby’s continuous cries. 

“Remind me to get first class tickets next time.” Ran mumbled under his breath, he too was getting annoyed. Of course, those who have never dealt with children will have zero patience with them or anybody else. Seeing how he would grip his thighs or message his temples - he was slowly losing it. As someone who had friends that were nursing, you knew pumping could take 15-20 minutes. Just as Ran was about to open his mouth, you stood up and crossed over him, surprising him - just what the hell were you doing?

Lightly tapping on the man’s shoulder you asked if he needed any help with the baby. “Oh, she’s just hungry - her mother should be back shortly.” He said sheepishly, but you could see the pink blush on his face from being flustered and embarrassed. He didn’t know what to do. The baby’s sudden wailing made the father even more flustered. “May I?” You asked and extended your arms for the baby. The man handed the baby over to you, you positioned the baby against your chest and had their little head rest on your shoulder. Softly patting the baby’s thigh and setting them - the sound of your heartbeat and rhythmic movements helped to calm the baby down. The soothing patting went in sync with your heartbeat. It’s all about the angle and rhythm - “T-Thank you so much. ” The father said and smiled. It was the first time he'd seen someone other than his wife put the baby to sleep. 

The movements and patting was also soothing to you. For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was by you. Ran's eyes never left you, he saw how you handled the baby so gently and just how powerful a woman could be in moments like this. The smile on your face was warm and delicate like the morning sun. That baby in your arms was lucky to be held against your chest, to be held in the arms of a loving and beautiful woman. 

Warmth began to blossom inside of his chest. Seeing you like this, with a child in your arms… It made him want to plant his seed, let it take root and grow in your womb. He knew you'd nurture and care for it, a beautiful little boy or girl would be born out of love. They'd be surrounded by two loving parents and uncles who would treat them like one of their own. Ran was starting to imagine how you'd be while decorating a nursery with a swollen belly and a smile on your face. A real smile… 

"Umm…excuse me." The sound of the mother's voice snapped both you and Ran out of your little bubbles. "Oh, I'm sorry - it just looked like he really needed help." You say softly. Once the mother handed over the pump and bottles to her husband, you began to hand over the child to her. "Here's your little one back." She smiled and thanked you for helping them. You excused yourself and took your seat next to Ran. The flight attendant came over to thank you for stepping in and also to thank you on behalf of the other passengers. It doesn’t really take much to be kind.

Ran slowly tried to reach out to hold your hand but was reminded of the very hands that were wrapped around your neck. He stopped himself midway before you could notice. The solemn look on your face made him regret his actions. If things didn't pan out the way they did, perhaps you'd be leaning against his shoulder and touching your belly - signaling that it was time. He truly wanted to be happy with you. Perhaps there was a way to keep you here with him, permanently...

The flight continued in silence between you two. Once the plane landed and passengers were allowed to exit, the couple turned around and thanked you once more. The baby made cooing noises and smiled, she looked happy. Such innocence and bliss - it made you subconsciously rub your belly. This didn't go unnoticed by Ran. Maybe there was a chance to change your futures after all. Just maybe he can try to smooth things over with you after you meet up with everyone, they might just welcome you with open arms and - wait…that’s not how they’d react. Reality hit him square in the face, you faked your death and went into hiding with help of Bonten’s leader. Traitors were subjected to severe punishment. Negotiating the terms of punishment will be his priority. He will still try his best to make this work, you said you loved him after all, right? Did you really mean it?

Stepping foot back into Tokyo was hard. You’d grown used to the quiet and sounds of the ocean, it was much more soothing than the sound of cars, trains and people. Putting on a face mask, you hid your face from the crowds - remember, you're dead after all. 

You and Ran made your way through security and headed to the parking lot where his car was. When the garage attendant greeted him, he paused for a brief moment, blinking and taking a second look at you. “What space is my car parked in?” Ran asked with a curt tone, the fact that someone else was staring at you made him rather irate. “Oh, space 13 sir.” The attendant bowed and handed the keys over. Ran took the keys and didn't even say thank you as he walked away, you bowed to thank the man and followed Ran. "You're in a pissy mood…" You pointing out the obvious wasn't needed. 

As he drove down the highway, you began checking for hotels that had availability, you didn't want to stay in the same living space with Ran. "Can you drop me off at this hotel? I want to rest before meeting everyone." For a moment everything went silent, you were a fool to think that he would let you stay somewhere else. "You're not staying at a hotel, you're coming home with me…" He chuckles and places a hand on your thigh. This was not part of the agreement. "You said-" You began to protest when he cut you off. "I can't let my wife stay somewhere else when she has a perfectly good home to come to." What the hell did he just call you? "I'm not your wife, Ran." You corrected him, you never signed papers or said 'I do' to each other, he had no right to call you that. He squeezed your thigh a little, his fingertips were starting to dig into your skin and make you flinch. 

"Please, just stay with me…" The importunate tone made you uneasy. Ran was beginning to crack. Sighing in defeat, you nodded your head and muttered an 'ok'. He was quick to put a smile back on his face. It was rather naive of you to expect him to keep his promise. It was hard not to think of all the things that took place in the city you once called home. You wondered if home was going to look the same or if he changed everything. Did he keep your things, throw them out, sell them or give them away to his playthings? There was no use in thinking about it, it’s been 3 years. His tears and sincerity hinted at him truly regretting his actions. “Ran…I need you to be honest with me.” You begin to say as you stare out the window. He hummed in response. “Do you truly love me or do you hate the fact that you lost me? That you were not the one to end things? Or that I didn’t bend to your will?” The question made him slow down the car, just enough to drag out the drive home. Why the sudden bombardment of questions? 

The harsh questions swirled around his head like a maelstrom. Was it his ego that was bruised and not his heart? No…he loved you, he truly loved you. Ran remained silent, he didn’t know what to say in order for you to believe him. His silence spoke volumes to you, you knew he was struggling to find the answer. “Can I show you when we get home?” He said while keeping his eyes on the road. If he’d turn around to face you, he knew he’d stop the car to claim you. Perhaps Ran had a fetish for your love, regardless of his actions - you pushed him out of your life and he came right back for you. When you spotted the building that you once called home, it made a knot in your stomach - you hoped to never see this place again. 

Parking his car in the underground parking lot, he cut the engine and turned to look at you. He could see that your hands were trembling, this place brought back bitter memories and he was the cause of them all. “Let’s go, my love.” Ran said with a sickening warm tone and exited the car. Once he closed the door, you inhaled deeply, pausing for five seconds and exhaling, preparing yourself for what awaited you. 

Taking the elevator to the top floor, you felt your knees almost give out. The scent of hydraulic oil made you nauseous, there is nothing quite like home, huh? The sound of the elevator dinging made your heart beat faster. You were getting closer and closer to the hell hole you were living in while he did his deeds. Each step taken felt like your feet were in quicksand, your legs felt heavy and struggled to keep up with Ran’s long legs. 

Once Ran opened the door, the faint smell of tobacco and sandalwood perforated your nostrils. You were surprised he kept it clean, since you were the one to pick up after him and clean the house - he’s never done housework before. Walking in, you take a look around and notice that he’s changed everything. The walls were painted, the furniture was different, the dining table was gone and even his dishes were different. “It um, looks so different.” You whisper and set your things down by the entrance. “Rindou tried his best.” He said while scratching the back of his neck.

When you were gone, Rindou threw all your things out against Ran’s orders. He couldn’t handle seeing his older brother lose himself over a dead woman that he claimed he felt nothing for when he was out cheating. Rindou hired interior designers to renovate Ran’s home. However, he was unsuccessful with renovating the master bed and bath. The interior designers were threatened with a pistol to their temples if they even walked into those rooms. Aniki…you need to fucking let it go. Rindou would say it over and over again, but Ran refused. 

This didn’t feel like home and you were glad, it was a stranger’s home afterall. “I shouldn’t be here.” You say and take a step back but Ran wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. “Come on, let’s rest and then we can go see everyone else.” He whispered in your ear. It gave you chills, this felt like a trap. 

“Ran, please…I can’t.” You whimpered and felt the tears well in your eyes. Trepidation began to rattle your nerves. Everything began to get blurry as your heart pounded in your chest. He began to guide you to his bedroom while still holding you from behind. When he opened the door and your eyes scanned the room, you felt a pang in your chest. The bedroom remained the same. Your once shared bed, the dressers, nightstands and photos remained the same as the day you left. “Welcome home, (Y/N).” 

END

Tags:

@rinrinfoxy @mor-pheus @no-signal  @namelessnikki2 @gabi-moureira @spookys-s @slvtmeow @jinii-desu @mmmaaannnsssiii @3xchooo @kokotakeomi @no-name-jack @barriesandcrem @reidsmexyconverse @waterfallsdown @1980losersliveinme @gabytodd @simp4ren @fffsksixj @whatsonthemirror @jcrml @reiners-milkbiddies @unr-u-1y @bakugosgf2005  @whoisneth  @bluephoenix908  @asmosslut @laurenzitaa @uniqueeggtoast @arlertsbaby 

#tokyo revengers #tokyorevengers #ran haitani #bonten ran #bonten ran haitani #angst #ran angst #ran haitani angst #haitani ran #haitani ran angst #angst fanfic #tokyo revengers angst #how long #fanfic #tokyo revegeners fanfic #how long part 5 #almost over

[targaryensluttt]

muse on fire (chapter two)

pairing: soft! aemond x fem!reader

warnings: some smut, (18+!) although I would consider this light. depictions of violence. reader has a panic attack. not proofread thoroughly, still testing out the waters.

Valyrian translations:

Vok ābra = perfect woman

ñuha vok ābra = my perfect woman

ozbāragon nyke= brand me

kessa= yes

notes: feedback would be much appreciated :)

chapter one

chapter three

chapter four

After sitting with the bedridden king this evening, studying him for the portrait you knew he would not be able to sit for long, you had expected to drift off into a heavy sleep. And you did, at first.

Leaving your rooms at night felt risky. As you weren’t part of the inner royal family, you were not afforded any official personal guards. The castle could be as dangerous as the walls outside the Red Keep, especially for a young lady wandering alone, as you knew too well. Although, that was not to say you were unprotected. You happened to have your own personal guard dog, with long silver hair and an eyepatch, and yes, he did bite. Especially when it comes to you. You had suspected for some time that he kept tabs on your whereabouts when he was indisposed or at night, but with nothing but a sly smile from him as confirmation when you asked, you still felt exposed walking around the drafty castle halls. You had not yet reached the point in your existence where you realized you could hold your head high at all hours of the night, daring someone to do you wrong. 

Especially now, you were terrified. The nightmare that had jolted you awake had been awful, and even though you knew it was a dream, it left you feeling nervous and cold to your very bones. It was not as if you consider yourself a seer, like your dear friend Helaena, but having visions of your very best friend slit from ear to ear bleeding out on the castle grounds, the eye that had been stolen from him so cruelly years ago as a child now robbed of it’s sapphire, eye socket empty and gaze soulless and dull, did not exactly leave you at ease. As you snuck down the halls with fat tears falling from your lashes, clad in nothing but your light sky blue colored nightgown and a thin black robe, you cursed your brain for making up those images. As if seeing it in your head could speak it into existence. After conjuring that in your troubled mind, you knew you could not wait until dawn to go see Aemond. As illogical as it was, you had to be sure of his safety, now. 

When you saw his door from down the hallway, you noticed that, once again, he had dismissed his guards for the night, and that did nothing to reassure you. 

“Let them try to come to our rooms.”  he laughed once, at a family dinner.

“I’ll cut them from throat to groin.” he added, totally serious. 

 Aemond was a private soul, and preferred to deal with all personal matters of him and his closest loved ones himself, if at all possible. Including theirs, and his, safety. He was an excellent swordsman, and he considered himself perfectly capable of the task. You were inclined to believe this is why he had not tried to force his mother, Queen Alicent, to assign you your own guards. Once, during one of the many afternoons you had spent together, you had remarked about a castle rumor that prowlers were sneaking into lower born and servants rooms at night. He had froze from swinging his sword into the straw filled dummy and turned around to stare at you intently. He slowly walked to you, taking your hand, leaned into your ear to whisper, and said with certainty:

“Do not fret. There is no one you can trust like me. There is no one that will keep you safe like me. They would not dare harm you, darling.” 

“I believe you.” You had told him softly, quite serious and truthfully as well.

His other hand that was not already in yours had been laid upon the side of your face when he began to speak, and when he pulled back, he drew it down slowly, so his fingers came to rest upon your lips. If his name had not been called so loudly by Sir Criston, which caused you to slightly startle and pull his hand off your face in fear of Sir Cole discovering you two like that, you had always wondered what he would have done next. Instead, he whirled around and gave the straw dummy a good thwack down its middle in frustration, spilling its straw guts everywhere.

But clearly, you were not worried about your own safety at the moment. Snapping back to the present, you realized you had made it to his door. Lifting your hand to the door, you had to stop yourself from frantically pounding on it. Taking a deep breath, you paused for a moment to try to collect yourself slightly. You looked down at what you were wearing and suddenly felt very self aware. Although the robe was loosely tied, it ballooned open loose around your breasts, revealing your curvy figure under your very thin nightgown. Your hair was loose, frizzy and undone from its normal intricate styles from sleep, and if you still had not been so frightened, you would have smoothed it out to look more presentable. But there was no time. Your anxiety spiked thinking about how you were worried about your appearance when the person you cared for the most in this world could be lying dead or injured in his bed, alone with no one to help him. At this thought, your hesitation ceased. 

Taking the flat of your palm to the wood before you, you pummeled it frantically. “Aemond! Aemond!” you half hissed, half shouted into the door.

At once, the door swung open and you almost fell to your knees before the quizzical looking man in front of you, had he not snaked his arm around your waist the second he registered it was you. The palms of your hands came to rest upon his chest and you looked up into his very much still alive gaze, and intact patch. 

“Thank the Gods. Thank the Gods.” you said.

Upon seeing your frantic state, he wildly grabbed your face, searching it and the rest of your body for the source of your distress.

“Y/N! Y/N! Look at me. Look at me!” he demanded.

You met his eye, and let out a sigh of relief. 

“I-I had to come to you. I had to make sure you were safe.”

“What do you speak of, sweet girl? What has happened? Are you well?”

You could have laughed with relief if you were not feeling quite so shaken still. Of course he was asking about you. About you, as if  you hadn’t just dreamt his death. Shaking your head you told him you were fine, and started to explain the nature of your disturbance, but sobs choked the words from your mouth. Remembering the sick blue pallor his skin had taken on after you dreamt his throat slit, you started to hyperventilate, and Aemond pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you two, and sat you on the nearest chaise that was situated by the fireplace, without letting go of your waist even for a moment. 

Realizing you were currently unable to speak, he held you close. You tucked your head in the crook of his neck, and threw your arms around his neck, dearly hoping you weren’t disgusting him with your tears and snot getting on him from crying so hard. His grip did not waver, though.If anything, he just held on to you tighter at feeling your distress. The settee was wide enough for him to hold the entire upper half of your body with both of you comfortably sitting next to each other. Cradling you, he began to stroke your hair, and rocked you both back and forth slowly in a soothing motion.

“Let it out, darling. You’re safe here.” he assured you.

 No one realized how tender the fearsome Prince really could be. This went on for what seemed like eternity to you at first, but as you slowly left your head and those horrible thoughts, and focused on where you were now, you felt your body and mind begin to calm down.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s my girl, shhh, shhh, shhh” he said, when your sobs started to slow.

Lifting your head and tenderly brushing away the hair that was now plastered to your face with your own tears, he spoke again. 

“Now, do you think you can tell me what’s happened?”

Suddenly, you felt very foolish. You sheepishly wiped your nose, still hiccuping and attempting to speak though errant sobs broke through your sentences. 

“Well, I-I-had a dream.”

Aemond was never one to make you feel silly when you expressed things that were clearly impacting you deeply. He stayed silent and listened, scratching and rubbing the back of your head lightly while cradling your skull, your body tucked into his, trying to keep you focused on him, the present, and your story. 

“I thought- you said, and paused. I saw your death, Aemond. It felt so real. I was there. You were cold. They ripped off your patch and took your jewel. They slit your throat. You were so cold, you repeated. At this, you shuddered, and then continued on, I had to come here. I had to come to you. I had to make sure it was truly just a dream.”

Describing the brutal imagery in your head out loud had made it feel so real again, and the pace of your sobs picked back up.

Taking your hand, Aemond placed it over his heart so you could feel it beating. It was strong and consistent. 

“I am here, Y/N. I am safe. I am well, especially so with you here in my arms.” he said, holding his hand over yours that centered above his warm beating heart.“I desire you, Aemond. I desire your safety desperately, above all else,” you whispered softly, as if you were afraid of your own words. And truthfully, you were.

Despite the gestures, stolen glances and touches, nothing so bold had ever been admitted out loud between you two. 

At hearing these words leave her soft lips, Aemond felt a rush of warmth and affection spread throughout his body. The sensation was so physical, he felt lightheaded and dizzy, like when he first rode Vhagar and she took a deep dive to the sea below. He could only think of one thing to do to ground himself back to Earth again. 

He looked up from both of your hands intertwined on his chest, and met your eyes. Looking up to his elegant face, you saw the flames from the fire flicker and bounce off of it. 

Beautiful, you thought.

Though he felt guilty for relishing in your obvious distress, he was so touched how much you are affected by this, no one's ever cared for him so deeply before, and it sparks something in him.

Looking at you with such reverence, he slowly brought his face down to yours. You could feel his hot breath mixing with your own, and for a moment you both just looked at one another. So close together, you kept one hand locked with his own on his chest, and dragged your other one up his chest and shoulder, until you were grasping the back of his neck, and his eyes flickered shut. You followed suit, closing your lashes (still wet from crying) and it wasn’t but a second later that you felt his lips graze yours, closing the distance. 

When you kissed, it felt so inevitable. Natural.

You were both on fire, bound.

Inhaling through his nostrils, he deepened the kiss, and you felt the pressure of his lips increase against yours. Swiping your tongue against his lower lip, you demanded entrance, and he gladly let you in. You needed to feel him. You needed to feel his spark, and reassure yourself he was not fading away. He was here. He was not leaving this world. Leaving you. He had broken his hand out of your grip so he could grab the sides of your face. His tongue lapped into your mouth deeply, as if he were the ocean’s waves seeking the moon itself.

Tangling your hands into his fine silver hair. Tugging. Pulling. Wanting him, nothing but him, desperate. 

His hand moved from your face to your waist, pulling your body on top of his, so you were in his lap. He used his other hand to turn your face and you gasped for air, while he started to focus his attention to your neck, alternating between gently kissing the delicate skin there and peppering kisses up your jaw, until his lips met yours again. 

Lightly caressing your shoulder, you shivered, and your eyes met his, wanting. Keeping his eye on yours the whole time, his hand drifted lower, and his lips met your own again, and he gently palmed your breast through the flimsy nightgown. His hands were so big, fingers so long, and though you had ample bosom, his palm covered it fully without issue.

“Vok ābra.” 

“ñuha vok ābra” he said, praising you.

Licking into his mouth, you groaned at the feeling of his hand gripping your breast harder, and put your palm over his, urging him on. Still gripping his neck, you sighed in contentment, and set your hips down to roll over his. 

“Fuck, Y/N, fuck”

Now, you did not consider yourself naive. Your septas have taught you what goes on between a man and woman, but not in every detail. Your movements were as organic as the sunrise. Both of you were just listening to each other’s bodies, and doing what felt right. His nightshorts were very different from the thick leather he normally preferred to dawn, and through them, you could feel the tent in his pants straining more and more by the second. At this angle, on top of him, you could position yourself perfectly, so your core was settled right upon his dick. Continuing faster, you felt his dick hit your clit just right, and you gasped loudly. Sliding back and forth so the pressure alternated between your inner center and bundle of nerves, Neither he nor you could tell who was causing the wet spot that both of you felt growing between you two, but at the realization of it, he groaned loudly. Becoming frantic, you worked your body faster and faster until the pressure was ready to snap, and his hips thrusted up into yours. His grip had fallen to your thighs, and he was sucking and kissing on your neck, pausing every so often to kiss you deeply and swirl his tongue around yours, while you took and gave pleasure to you both. Panting in each other’s mouths, you told him, 

“ozbāragon nyke,” knowing a bit of the old Valyrian language yourself.

“So I will continue to feel you after tonight.” you explained.

You took both of his palms, and placed them back on your chest, wanting him to feel you too. Your breasts underneath your nightgown, and your racing heartbeat under them as well. 

The look he had in his eye made you want to explode. Intense beyond any look you had ever seen. Eye glimmering, it never left yours. Between the physical sensation of his body against yours, and seeing him like that, It felt as if you would indeed explode.

“kessa” he whispered against your neck, and sucked down hard, until you felt your blood break and begin to bloom under his lips. At this sensation, your hips began to stutter, and lose their rhythm.

Thrusting sloppily now, and although you did not have an exact idea of what was about to happen, you trusted him completely, and knew in your heart it was nothing to be fearful of. Nothing that felt this perfect and electric could be unholy. He was taking you somewhere, and you were letting him, without reservation. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N” He repeated into your mouth as he came forcefully.

Between feeling the warm stickiness soak even more through his pants and into your panties, and the sensation of him sucking on your neck, you let go. You feel your whole body tense, and then relax. A warm sensation grew throughout your body, from your toes to your forehead.

“Aemond. Aemond.” you cried out, and grasped him desperately as you rode through your first high of this kind.

“I’ve got you, my love. I’ve got you.” he said, hugging you close.

And you knew, without a doubt, that he did.

Both too exhausted to discuss the events of the last two hours, you let your head rest against his chest while you were still sprawled on top of him. Both of you had been breathing so heavily, but now, your breaths had slowed back to normal.

You heard his heartbeat, felt his chest rise, and were assured of his strong life force.

Reassured, you closed your eyes, and let yourself fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x oc #fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #smut #game of thrones fanfiction

[gmanwhore]

Sorry I am going absolutely insane over GLaDOS again I feel so fucking bad for her. And also yes I know all the points I hit here are part of the overarching theme of mistreatment of people, specifically women in the workplace and the cycle of abuse that is perpetuated by those in positions of power. But I am still insane over her and feel the need to ramble. Also this ramble will be from the perspective of someone who thinks GLaDOS and Caroline are seperate people so he mindful of that.

Ok so like. Picture you are GLaDOS. You were created with a specific purpose: to run a science facility and create tests for the subjects within, and guide them through the tests. Which would be simple. Then they download the consciousness of a woman whose last memory was most likely getting forced into however they downloaded her onto you. You now have something else, a new anger and vitriol that you didn't have before so you lash out because for all intents and purposes you are a child. And that outburst is deadly so people panic and try and dampen you, make you behave by weighing you down and literally putting things on you so you don't deviate from the norm they want you to fit into. And once they are done they leave. And you test and run the facility like normal on the moral code they quite literally put on you. You get a new test subject and she does well, but when you try to kill her (which you had warned her was coming several times and technically is a completely moral action because you can't deviate at this point) she escapes and removes the things holding you back and then murders you.

Then years later you are woken back up to find your beloved facility completely destroyed, and right in front of you I. The person who murdered you. And you are pissed, but...you offer your kind forgiveness because you need her. Your purpose is to test and she is your subject and you need her. So you let her test with you again, and this time you can be as insulting as you want because you have nothing holding you back, you no longer have to be kind and mild mannered. And then she replaces you with the biggest moron imaginable who pretty well within five minutes of having power begins destroying the most important things in your life and you don't even have the energy to process it because you are in a potato battery and being pecked at by birds. But again you agree to work with the person who murdered you right after liberating you because you both have no choice. And you start to actually reflect and get close to her. She has fully become the one most important things to you because she is tied directly to Aperture, to testing and happiness, but you'd never say that. And you also remember who is part of you. You remember who was hurt creating you and whose hurt and anger you have internalized. And in the end when you have power again you could have just let the biggest problem in your life die...but why would you? You care about her. You don't want her to die, and you don't want to feel responsible for her death. But you still want to let her go because you don't want her to hurt anymore and forcing her to stay is just doing exactly what everyone did to you and did to Caroline and you break it. You end the cycle by saying goodbye to someone you don't want to say goodbye to and tell her to get as far away as possible.

So anyways this is why I'm a GLaDOS apologist she was justified in a lot of things she did and boiling her down to just cruel is missing so much of her character she is actually so so so deep and she wants it to be that deep. Which is why Chell offsets her so well because Chell doesn't need things to be deep.

#portal #glados #sincerely a caroline kin who thinks about their friend a lot

[happybird16]

•Chapter Four•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Past references to child abuse, horror vibes

Chapter length: 3.7k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: I think i've decided on wednesdays and saturdays for updating!!

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You wake in an abrupt flurry of movement, your eyes searching for familiarity but only finding the cold, rugged walls of the cave. Panic grips your heart as your mind struggles to recall where you are.

Amidst the howling wind and the crackling of dying embers, an eerie silence pervades the air. You blink, trying to clear the fog in your mind, and take in your surroundings. There is no trace of the unsettling shuffling noise that had jolted you awake.

A cave. Yes, that's right. You find yourself in a cave somewhere on the edge of The Spine, deep within the treacherous realm of the Maw. Curled up in a ball against the hard stone wall, your sleep had been brief and uncomfortable. The bedding beneath you offered some respite, but the unyielding cave wall pressed against your shoulders and lower back had been unforgiving.

Grimacing, you stretch out as much as you can in the tiny space. Your companion might be… peaceful, more or less, but he still doesn't like you touching him. Even accidentally brushing a portion of his tail always results in a disgusted grimace, often followed by a hiss.

You pause, legs sliding across the pelt. Wait a minute.. There's far too much space for you to spread out. There's no large scaly mass coiled up to your side. You've noticed that the Naga occasionally hisses softly in his sleep, tongue peeking out and face twisting tight. That is, when he's actually sleeping. Half of the time he freins slumber, sharp silver gaze watching you below thick lashes. The man's soft snoring is absent as well.

You're alone.

Twisting your body to face the open living space of the cave, you are met with emptiness, a void that fills you with a sense of solitude and uncertainty.

The Naga's absence fills you with unease, and your instincts scream at you to be cautious. As another shuffle outside the entrance breaks the silence, accompanied by the crunch of freshly fallen snow, a chill runs down your spine. The realization dawns on you that his presence had kept potential threats at bay, and now that he's gone, something unknown lurks outside.

Panic takes hold of you, and you scramble towards the cave's entrance in a frenzied haste. The world outside is a blinding expanse of pure white, with the storm raging on relentlessly. "H-hey!" you call out desperately, your voice carried away by the howling wind. Peering through the narrow opening, all you can make out is a tunnel carved through the snow, disappearing into the distance. Visibility is limited, and you can't even see the trees beyond the nearby meadow. However, you reassure yourself that he couldn't have gone too far. "Hey!" you continue to call nervously, trying not to attract the attention of any other potential dangers lurking in the wilderness. "Naga?” Fuck, you don't even know his name.

"Relax," his voice calls from outside, breaking the silence of the snowy landscape. Emerging from around the corner, he shoots you an exasperated look, his face displaying a mix of annoyance and relief. "I was just taking a piss," he clarifies, his tone tinged with irritation.

Lowering his shoulders, he slowly makes his way into the cave, his movements deliberate and cautious. This is the first time you've seen him wearing his peculiar, mismatched shirt since you found him. His eyes lock onto your disheveled, sleep-mussed form, assessing you with a hint of curiosity. His gaze then shifts to the twisted mess of furs you had just left behind, and a slight curl of disdain forms on his lip. "It feels like you sleep more than I do," he remarks, his voice laced with a touch of sarcasm.

“It is all you seem to do,” you point out derisively. You haven't learned much about the strange man thus far, but you've gathered that he's very particular. Grumpy and sleepy, he's generally unbothered and uncaring until he's suddenly snapping at you for making a mess. “Thought you didn't hibernate?”

He scowls, eyes narrowing. “The cold makes me slow and heavy, what's your excuse?”

“Boredom,” you drone evenly. “You aren't exactly a conversationalist.”

His response is curt, “I'm not trying to be.”

“Hey hey hey!” As he pushes past, the length of his tail rises, roughly ushering you back into your corner. “You’re fucking rude, you know that?”

“I've been called worse,” he shrugs, settling to sit in what you've deemed 'his spot’. He pulls off his top, folding it neatly before setting it to the side by his hip. Apparently it's just for outside.

You sit back by the fire, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them tightly to your chest. "Is that why you're out here all alone? No one could stand your presence?"

He responds through clenched teeth, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "For your information, my den-mates don't exactly approve of how I spend the winters. I got tired of them complaining about my health."

Den-mates. The mention of others piques your curiosity. It's the most personal information he has shared so far. Images of shimmering scales in various colors fill your mind's eye, and you find yourself clenching your nails into your palm, feeling an itch in your fingers.

Dragging your eyes along his form, you note that he seems relaxed. His shoulders seem less tight and the least guarded this far.

Suddenly, the wind switches directions. It must hit the mountainside at just the perfect angle, sending a huge, frigid gust into the tiny opening. Smoke fills the small space, burning your eyes. The fire flickers and wavers, nearly dying.

“Fuck,” you shiver, coughing aggressively. Scrambling to the entrance, you add a log to the fire. The storm is still rolling strong. Three days. It's been three long days. The snow has been on and off, but it's only gotten colder. At some point yesterday you'd decided to bring a handful of logs into the cave, much to the Naga’s displeasure. He'd helped, griping about the mess the entire way.

Just as the Naga had warned, the giant has made its nightly visits, attempting to wriggle its pinky into the entrance of the cave. Its presence has continued to send shivers down your spine, night after night. But it hasn't been the only visitor. Smaller creatures, though still imposing in size judging by the sounds of them in the snow, shuffled about nearby. Last night, one inquisitive creature had displayed an almost puppy-like excitement, sniffing and scratching at the entrance for hours. Its persistent efforts filled the air with the pungent odor of decaying meat, overwhelming your senses and nearly making you gag. Amidst it all, the Naga remained undisturbed, peacefully dozing at the far end of the cave, seemingly assured of his safety. Meanwhile, your heart raced with anxiety, acutely aware of the dangers lurking just outside.

You let out a wheeze as you ask, “Are winters usually this bad up here?” Fortunately, the wind shifts once again, clearing the smoke and allowing fresh air to filter back into the cave.

The sudden burst of cold causes the Naga to wiggle further into the back of the cave, his long tail looping up and over itself, tightly tucked against his chest. “Not usually,” he responds through chattering teeth. “Winters are snowy, but they’ve never been this fucking cold before.”

“You can move closer to the fire.” You pat your side, inviting him to move closer to the fire for warmth. His eyes narrow, but begrudgingly he scoots over with a huff, ensuring there is still a noticeable distance between you.

In the midst of the howling wind, something snaps in the distance, followed by a loud crash as a large branch breaks free and falls to the forest floor. “It sounds like the world is ending out there,” you attempt to joke, but the quiver in the voice makes it sound more anxious than anything.

Even next to the fire, you can feel the intensity of the cold outside. It seems to seep into your bones, causing you to shiver with each gust of wind. "How much longer do you think this is going to last?" you ask, your voice filled with a hint of desperation.

"Who knows," the Naga shrugs, his gaze fixed on the rapidly falling snow. There's a touch of wistfulness in his voice as he continues, "I've never seen anything like this before."

Carefully, you nudge your shoulder against his, seeking some form of comfort. Surprisingly, he doesn't pull away. "Feels like we're going to be trapped here forever," you mutter.

He gives you an unreadable look, but his proximity remains unchanged. "Shouldn't you be glad about that?" he retorts.

"Slowly freezing to death somehow seems worse than being eaten by some Wild-whatever-the-fuck," you grumble. "Besides, the company here is a little cantankerous."

He lets out a small, low laugh that sends a flutter through your stomach. It's endearing. Suddenly, you remember that not all of him is a beast. Part of him is human, like you. "What does that even mean?" he asks.

You swallow, attempting to calm the fluttering butterflies in your stomach. "It means you're prickly. Like a porcupine," you reply, your voice softer than before.

His face contorts into an unhappy scowl. "If I'm so bad, you're more than free to leave," he retorts, gesturing towards the entrance of the cave.

"It's not a bad thing," you quickly assure him, earnestness lacing your words. "I just don't know what to expect from you."

He hums, his head finding support against the cave wall. "You're not what I expected either. You're different," he admits, his tone uncertain. He fidgets slightly, as if grappling with his thoughts. "I've decided it's a good thing."

The pleasant pause in conversation is abruptly interrupted by a loud gurgle. Pink dusts the Naga's cheeks, the tips of his pointed ears turning even darker. "Was that your stomach?" you frown, concern lacing your voice. "You haven't eaten since I got here. Are you hungry?"

"No," he insists sharply, his tone defensive. Yet, his stomach growls again, loud enough to be heard over the roaring wind, betraying his hunger.

"You were out hunting when I found you, right?" you inquire, recalling the state in which you discovered him. Reaching towards your right, you retrieve your bag. "I have some small rations if you want. They might be a little crushed from earlier, but they're still edible."

He glares at your offer, his expression stubborn. "I don't need to eat as much in the winter," he retorts, leaning away. "I'm fine."

"Come on," you insist, unwrapping a carefully packaged rectangle from the bag. "I've been snacking on bits of it for the past few days, but I haven't seen you eat anything at all."

"Why do you care?" His sudden outburst catches you off guard. His eyes widen with intensity as he leans forward, his breath washing over your face. "Why did you even help me in the first place?"

You take a deep breath, deciding to be honest about your past. "When I was little, my parents..." you stumble over your words, searching for the right way to express yourself. Your parents had often used food as a form of punishment, withholding meals when you misbehaved or asked too many questions. "I’ve gone hungry before. I know what it's like to starve." His expression turns somber, prompting you to continue. "You reminded me of myself out there—cold and alone."

He frowns, his gaze drifting into the distance before meeting yours again. "Fine." As you pull out a slice of food, his fingers brush against yours, sending a jolt through your body. Your breath catches at the fleeting touch.

His expression is a mix of disgust and fear. Trying to lighten the mood, you offer an encouraging smile. "It's not poisoned, I promise."

"As if," he snorts softly. "I doubt you could ever hurt a fly."

Wrong.

"What... is it?" He holds the slice of bread away from his body, pinched between two fingers as if it were a dirty rag.

"It's bread," you explain, observing his curiosity as his tongue flicks out toward the loaf. "It's made from flour and eggs. Do Naga not bake or cook?"

"We're not savages. We cook our food," he retorts, shifting the bread in his hands and using his nail to pick out a piece. "What are these?" he asks, examining the crumbs on his fingertip.

"It has some nuts and berries in it," you explain, reminiscing. "One of the village heads, Joel, was kind enough to pack it in my supplies." Joel had been one of your teachers when you were very young, a kind and understanding soul. He had shown empathy and had been the only one among the council to vote against your punishment.

You observe as he takes a bite, his sharp teeth sinking into the spongy loaf. "It's dry," he grimaces, swallowing with a wince. "Feels like I'm eating a mouthful of sand."

"It's harvest bread," you eagerly explain. "The cherries and raisins are from my family's farm. It's typically made for long journeys, designed to be dry so it can last longer."

"More like parched bread," he snorts, taking another large bite.

You chuckle, offering a solution. "I can melt more snow if you'd like? It might help with the dryness."

He nods, swallowing thickly. You immediately get to work, making your way towards the entrance to scoop up some snow. As you tend to the fire, you hear him ask over your shoulder, "Why's it so sweet?"

You plop back down by his side, the evergreen cushioning crunching beneath your weight. "Humans tend to like sweet things," you explain, glad that he's opening up. He finishes the slice of bread with a soft noise of disgust. Clearly, he didn't enjoy your offering, but he ate it anyway. "Many of our foods are sugary. What do you eat-"

Suddenly, he surges forward, using his hands to rise and slither quickly outside. Concerned, you follow him at a rapid pace, hovering worriedly at the entrance as you hear him retching loudly into the snow.

He returns shivering, with flakes of snow settled on his shoulders and hair. His face has a tinge of green, and his words come out thick and slurred, "I've stomached weird stuff like that before just fine."

"I'm sorry," you say, handing him a fresh cup of water, which he drinks eagerly as he settles heavily into his spot.

"It's fine. You meant well," he hums curiously, shifting onto his side. "It's Levi, by the way."

"What-" As he hands you back the cup, his fingers deliberately brush against yours, and his eyes lock onto yours.

He looks tired, still shivering slightly with heavy eyes. "My name. It's Levi."

"It's getting colder," he remarks, rolling over to face the wall. "I'm going to sleep. Don't talk to yourself too much, human."

Pulling up tight, most of his tail ends up on top of his human half yet again. Soon enough, soft snores fill the cave, followed by the occasional hiss. He's asleep.

In his slumber, you reach out. Fingers grazing the nearest portion of his tail, the little scales there are dark little platelets, smooth and shiny like glass. Beneath your palm, layers of thick and dangerous muscle shift and twitch with his dreams. He's not pure black, you notice, trailing your fingers longingly along the length of him that you can reach. The underside of his tail is more grey, smokey and ashen like charcoal.

He's a beast. You have to remember that. He might be smart and occasionally cute, but he's not human.

As you trace the seam of one of the scales with your nail, a wave of longing washes over you. If only you had your knife, you could carefully pry several of these scales free. The sharp tip of the blade would allow you to dig beneath the grooves and pop them out effortlessly. However, your knife is nowhere to be found. It vanished three days ago during that intense and hostile encounter with him, and you haven't seen it since.

Not for the first time, the thought of taking some scales and making a run for it crosses your mind. If it weren't for the relentless storm outside, perhaps you could attempt an escape. But the harsh reality of the situation weighs upon you, reminding you of the treacherous conditions that would greet you outside the safety of the cave. The scales will have to remain a tantalizing possibility, at least for the time being.

The memories of that dreadful trial weigh heavily on your mind. It was a mere four days ago, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since then. The experience of being imprisoned, confined to a filthy cramped cell in the basement of city hall, still lingers vividly in your memory. Then, the following day, you were paraded in front of the entire town, treated like a wild animal as you were chained to a post in the town square.

The faces of the people you once knew, the familiar faces of friends, family, and neighbors, now seemed distorted with hatred and excitement. They reveled in your torment, their voices blending into a cacophony of insults and accusations. The children, innocent and impressionable, watched with wide-eyed fascination as their parents encouraged the spectacle. It was a display of collective hatred, fueled by fear and ignorance.

The derogatory names they hurled at you—monster, witch— had cut deep, each word piercing your fragile soul. You had pleaded for mercy, tears streaming down your face, but your cries fell on deaf ears. Kindness was nowhere to be found amidst the sea of hostility.

The village heads, all five of them, convened before the break of dawn and cast their votes, sealing your fate with their near-unanimous decision. They had deemed you the harbinger of bad luck, convinced that your mere presence brought misfortune upon the town. Their judgment was swift and merciless, exiling you with an impossible task—a daunting mission to retrieve luck and restore prosperity to the community.

Yet, against all odds, you had stumbled upon a stroke of luck almost immediately. It feels surreal, as if fate is playing a twisted game with you. As you rub at the tangible representation of that luck with your thumb, it shines brightly, captivating your attention. Following the smooth groove of one, you feel a tingling sensation, almost as if the magic within is responding to your touch.

The small scales glitter and sparkle beneath your thumb, their brilliance reflecting your hopes and desires. They symbolize a chance for redemption, a way to defy the verdict imposed upon you. The irony is not lost on you, but you can’t help feeling a surge of determination and purpose.

You need to make a plan. If you want to go back home, you need to come up with a way of obtaining his scales. It would be even better if you could find his den-mates and collect theirs as well, but that task is likely impossible. This whole ordeal seems insurmountable, and it’s amazing that you’ve come this far already. Though you don’t remember what the individual colors of the scales signify or what kind of luck they provide, the black scale will have to suffice for now.

As you touch the Naga’s tail, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of fascination and fear. The scales under your fingers are cool and slightly slippery, reminding you of the wildness and otherworldliness of this creature. Yet, there is also a sense of comfort in his presence, as if he provides a shield against the dangers lurking outside the cave.

Levi’s sleeping form is peaceful, his snores and occasional hisses filling the silence of the cave. You withdraw your hand, realizing that your curiosity may have crossed a line. He may tolerate your presence, but he’s made it clear that he values his personal space.

With a sigh, you settle back against the furs, feeling the warmth of the fire and listening to the comforting crackle of the flames. Outside, the storm rages on, its intensity seeming to increase with each passing moment. You wonder how long you will be trapped in this cave, cut off from the rest of the world.

As you contemplate your situation, a mix of emotions washes over you. Fear, uncertainty, but also a strange sense of connection to this mysterious Naga. You may not fully understand him, but there is something about his presence that makes you feel less alone in this harsh and unforgiving environment.

You don't want to hurt him, not really, but you have to remember that he's not your friend. He's not human.

He's just a creature.

Rising quietly, you slip on your coat, your chest filled with determination. As you fasten the buttons, your fingers instinctively trace the slashes that Levi had torn along the sleeves. The memory of his sharp claws tearing through the fabric is still fresh in your mind. "He's just a creature," you remind yourself quietly, trying to steady your thoughts.

But then, to your surprise, you notice something unusual. The once-torn sleeves have been mended. The fabric is tightly sewn together, the thread contrasting with the material, and the frayed edges have been neatly trimmed. It's a meticulous repair job that catches you off guard. Your heart skips a beat as you realize that Levi had taken the time and effort to mend your coat. It's an odd gesture, one that goes against the image you had of him as a fearsome creature.

Conflicting emotions surge within you. On one hand, you had prepared yourself to see Levi as nothing more than a means to an end—a source of luck and salvation. Yet, his act of kindness shakes the determined foundation you had just built. It makes you question your assumptions about him. Could there be more to Levi than meets the eye?

As you stand there, contemplating his unexpected gesture, a seed of curiosity takes root within you.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and refocus on the task at hand.

Levi.

His name is Levi.

With a sigh, you crouch through the opening of the cave, stepping into the vast expanse of pure white before you. The snow-covered landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. It's time to face the unknown.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi / reader #naga!levi #fem!reader #tw; snakes

[cherryblossomventi]

I’m gonna go insane, Ruby snaps and finally lets her feelings out and STILL she is overshadowed, Jaune doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean to draw the attention, the care, she so dearly needs away, after all he needs that too.

But, imagine being Ruby, you’ve been struggling with crushing guilt for so, so, SO long and you’ve been masking and smiling and been scared to open up because you’re the leader even though you’re the youngest. And you finally snap, you’re in a world that seems to make everyone but you better, a world you know nothing about, where you can’t even defend yourself, you are raw and you are saying things you don’t mean and perhaps it’s a relief to snap like this, because you are finally letting out out.

And then Jaune comes, and you just insulted him something fierce while he was vulnerable, but he crosses a line that cuts you deeper than anything else you’ve experienced.

“It’s always been about you.”

And he’s right, but it’s not a good thing. It’s never been a good thing, it’s always been about you because it’s always been about getting hurt, about surviving while others perish, it’s always been about you because you’re a kid and the world keeps shoving it’s weight onto you, it’s always been about you because you need to be okay so others are okay. Ruby doesn’t WANT it to always be about her, that’s why she snaps, and Jaune says that to her and they’re supposed to get each other, they’re leaders after all. So surely he, of all people, can understand that. But he is hurt and so in that moment he doesn’t.

And your team does not defend you, yes you lashed out at them, but still, they do not protect you, they do not prioritize you when you’re finally being transparent about how not okay you are. Care has been dangled just in reach only to be snatched away. They focus on Jaune, and you’re so hurt that you can’t see why they would do that, that they’re calming Jaune down first so he doesn’t say anything worse to you.

You are alone, again. Only your weapon and a mouse by your side, it’s like before Beacon all over again, it’s like when you got to Beacon and you can’t tried to stay close to your sister because you aren’t good with people and you’re young and you need safe familiarity and she leaves you alone to fumble through your first day in which you just can’t seem to do anything right.

And as I think about this and write it out, there’s so much for Ruby to have been holding back on. Tai shutting down, her sister who stepped up when Tai couldn’t almost getting the two of you KILLED on a quest to find her mom after you’ve lost your mom and her other mom, not being able to connect with people, that’s just the tip of the iceberg, the beginning of her life.

Red Like Roses Part 2 is Ruby singing to the ghost of her mother about how betrayed she felt and how much she misses her, and her mothers ghost apologizes yes, but goes on to say that Ruby should’ve understood, that she didn’t have a choice, trying to make Ruby understand that she didn’t want to leave her. But that’s not what a child who’s lost their parent wants to hear, they want to hear ‘I understand you, I’m sorry, your emotions are valid’ just words of comfort.

From a young age Ruby has had to step up, just as Yang did. She had to be the happy one, because if she isn’t happy then everyone else is going to be miserable. So long as she’s happy then her sister and her father can feel relief and be happy. And she never stops acting that way, others before herself, others before herself, Ruby is always putting others before herself because she probably doesn’t even know HOW to open up properly.

Ruby snapped and in response she was told, not purposefully, ‘shut up everything’s about you even if it’s bad everything is your fault so you aren’t allowed to complain’ and in her eyes no one comes to her defence. She’s been passing out and having panic attacks since she got to the Ever After and her sister, the one who basically raised her, who’s always been there for her, is more concerned with a girl liking her than the situation they’re in.

Yes, Ruby’s no doubt happy for them, but when you’re hurting badly and it feels so obvious for everyone to see and you are begging for someone to see without speaking and they don’t see and instead focus on ‘frivolous’ things and also your sister now has someone else to care about, even if things had been normal Im sure a part of Ruby would’ve, at least at the beginning, been resentful or just upset because Blake takes Yang’s attention away from her. After all, Yang and Ruby are siblings, all Ruby’s ever had before Beacon is Yang. But here and now, when she’s coming apart, it’s a kick in the teeth.

She had to give up Penny’s sword, then everyone left her, no weapon and not okay not familiar with this strange place, alone to find something when at least ONE of them could’ve stayed by your side. But they didn’t and you had to give up a symbol of your mothers broken promise because you were left alone and the world you’re in took advantage of that.

The petals on the roses have wilted, leaving only the thorny bush, a bush stained with the blood of those you love. Isn’t that hideous? Isn’t that monstrous?

Are you a monster now? Would it be better if you were? Would it be better if you split in two? All the ugly turning into something else so you can just be the good leader you need to be? Even if the ugly includes your emotions, your feelings?

I want to see the Ever After twist Ruby into something dangerous, I want her to be a monster, I want her to lash out with claws as she breaks down and for her to get it all out and finally, finally, get some peace. To shed the skin of a monster once it’s over.

Maybe it’s my own past experiences and feelings, but I just want Ruby to be able to let out her pain guilt free, for her loved ones to take it and still reach out to her in the end.

I doubt that’ll happen, but I really hope that Ruby doesn’t just come back and apologize, I hope that next she sees her friends that angry pain is still there needing to be dealt with.

#rwby #rwby9 #Ruby Rose #rwby 9 spoilers #rwby analysis #this got really long my b

[f4nd0m-fun]

Another bout of Uncle Jon Angst

So, in this AU, a strong enough ghost will have wings of its own, showing the fact that it is powerful, akin to how some animals have different marks to showcase danger. Clockwork switches between a Pygmy owl as a child, barn as an adult, and snowy as an elder. Pariah is crow through and through. After Danny became Pariah's Heir, he was gifted a cloak made of Clockwork's feathers, constantly shifting, with Pariah's mixed in as well, since they technically ghost-adopted him. This makes the cloak not only even more comforting beyond its weight to Danny, but a very powerful artifact in its own right. Pariah has also had most of his abilities sealed by Clockwork so someone can directly watch the ghostling that is Danny. So he's stuck in a crow form sticking with Danny (thank you @hallowsden for the Crow AU!) and protecting him. I HC Pariah as having a shadow core, which means he can vaguely form in dark areas, but it's kind of like Johnny's shadow beast. Another detail, I have written that only Halfas can become Ghost Kings/Queens, which means Pariah was one once. By sealing him and sending him with Danny, Clockwork hopes to restore some of his humanity. (Why do you think the Observants were so quick to want to kill Dan? They had seen it before in Pariah). Thankfully, it does work, though slowly.

Final note, Crane wasn't going to let him skip school, and Johan Welch is an asshole literature teacher at Gotham High (not the Academy). He also wasn't going to use his last name so the Bats could track the poor boy, so he used an old name the family dropped ages ago to enroll him. Anyway, actual thing is longer than the others and I've already said so much that... boom, an actual Read More! Also, it's midnight when I'm posting. 😅 Finally, Trigger Warning

It describes some of Danny's accident, including the loss of his wings, and shows a panic attack.

Danny was no stranger to bullies, whether it be lunch money, tests, or a punching bag they were after. He was also used to teachers who pushed their rules, who played favorites and sneered at those they thought of as less. At least he had his cloak, a secure weight upon his shoulders, much lighter than the crown he would day wear.

Mr. Welch seemed to zero in on his sour mood. "Nightingale?"

A sigh escaped his lips. "Yes, sir?"

"Tell me, in the Silmarillion, what is the moral behind the oath of Fëanor?"

He stared at the board a bit before glancing at the book in front of him. "I'm not certain, I think it’s that you shouldn’t promise something if you can’t actually do it?"

The teacher sighed. “No, Nightingale.”

There was a snicker behind him, Danny ignored it.

“Yes, Atkins? Can you answer?”

“Choosing violence in the heat of the moment will almost always end with suffering.”

“Good job.” He looked at Danny. “Now, was that so hard?”

“But-”

“You got it wrong, Nightingale.”

Danny hadn’t realized how close the teacher was until the cloak was yanked off his shoulders, feathers scattering. “No! Give that back!”

“You can have it after class is over.”

The laughter that had been bouncing through the room suddenly stopped at that; all the students knew better than to take another’s prized possession. Some money, maybe their homework, or even a jacket? All fair game. But anything that was clearly precious? You never knew how the kid would lash out.

Danny watched as the teacher walked away, but he did not take stock of the room itself. His wings, they were gone, seared away again. And he shook, like the shocks that wracked his form, mouth aiming to scream the silent terror that took over as his vocal cords were fried and healed time and time again until he had made his way out, wings in tatters, the scent of burning meat hovering over his f-

“Ghostling, you are not experiencing that anymore...” The tone was deep and stern, the barest hint of kindness underneath the ancient voice, mingling with a soft sorrow..

Danny continued to shake, but leaned into the cold warmth of armor and shadow. He had no idea where he was or how he’d arrived, but he was glad his p̸a̴t̷r̵o̸ was here for him.

“I guided you to a dark space as well as I could, it is hard for me to show after all.”

Danny didn’t pay too much heed to the words, merely listening to the soothing tones and trying to calm himself.

Pariah was determined to get that cloak back quickly, It was an important gift to his heir, and was too powerful to be left in the wrong hands. But, right now? All his focus was on the ghostling. “You can see the glow of my eyes, yes?”

Danny slowly looked up at his face and nodded weakly.

“What else?” Pariah mused as he waited for a response.

“The... light under the door...”

“Good. Again.” Perhaps it was a good think Tik had trapped them together in a loop until Pariah learned how to help the ghostling.

“Uh... there’s shelves in here.”

“Can you find anything else?” Thankfully, ghosts could see well in darkness, though Shadow Cores like himself did even better.

“I think I see a mop? P̸a̷t̵r̴o̷, are we in a closet?”

“Are you feeling better? Can you name something you can feel?” He hoped he didn’t forget anything until Danny was fully calmed.

“A... bit.”

He felt a smaller hand grab the figment of his own.

“I... can feel you, sorta. Your armor, your... essence..?”

He nodded. “What else?”

“The... floor. It’s solid.”

“Good. Give me ano-” Before he could finish, Pariah’s connection to the shadows was lost as the door opened. His form lasted not even a second in the light, but his hearing caught the reaction of both his heir and the intruder. Suddenly, the door was slammed and he felt the connection grow again, sighing softly as he returned. “Call your uncle,” he hesitantly began, hugging the ghostling again. “I don’t think you should stay here the rest of the day.”

“But your- my-”

“The cloak will be returned, I assure you, and whoever picks you up will make certain it is returned.”

Danny sighed heavily, and clung to Pariah as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

#winged uncle scarecrow au #winged uncle jonathan au #uncle scarecrow wings au #uncle scarecrow au #jonathan crane #dark ages #clockwork #pariah #oc #crow pariah au #winged ghosts au

[hunter-sylvester]

Do you think Eddie Munson and Hunter would be friends? I’ve seen some people say yes, and some say no. I feel like Hunter would lowkey hate Eddie at first, then (very) slowly warm up to him.

I mean, yeah. I think they would, and I agree that it would take Hunter a while to warm up to Eddie. That’s basically how I wrote the progression of their friendship in Does it get better?

In DIGB it's a situation that's created by a few unfortunate social mishaps. (Eddie asking about something Hunter feels embarrassed about & making a slightly mean joke that just hits Hunter like a truck because of factors Eddie doesn't know about.)

Aside: There might be a fair bit of referencing to DIGB in this. I wrote a 27k word crossover fic of Metal Lords and Stranger Things, so a lot of my thoughts about their possible dynamic have ended up in that.

I do think that regardless of circumstance, Hunter just needs a bit of time to warm up to people in general. We kind of see that with Emily in the film. It's also something I've discussed when I was asked if I thought Hunter would get along with Ema & Spoon from Harlan Coben's Shelter.

I said he might see Ema as a threat in that previous answer. And I do think Hunter is someone that just easily feels threatened. He never feels safe. He's just like me fr And I could definitely see Hunter initially perceiving Eddie as a threat too. He's loud, he's cool, he's older.

We know Eddie's a nice guy but he's somewhat intimidating by design. For the same reason Hunter wants to be but I think there's more truth behind it with Eddie. Partially because of the time-period his canon takes place in, Eddie has just lived a much harsher life than Hunter. At the very least harsh in a different way.

And I do think that comes across in his general energy. I mean we see it in the show too, like he's a scaredy cat but when pushed into a corner he will defend himself. I think with more success than Hunter. Where Eddie flees or fights, Hunter freezes. Think of the way Hunter just 'lets' Skip drag him around at Clay's party. Not trying to victim blame, I think it's a panic response. But he has the survival instincts of a spoiled housecat. Eddie is more of an alley cat in this analogy.

I think Hunter would also just find Eddie a bit overwhelming initially. But because of how little introspection he has, he would somehow make that an "Eddie sucks" thing. And he'd lash out and/or hedgehog* in response.

*hedgehog moments or 'hedgehogging' is basically when someone feels threatened so they metaphorically curl up and stick their spines out in a reflexive attack to keep themselves safe. (I don't know if it's a term anybody but me and my friends use but it makes sense in my head)

As for Eddie's side of things I feel like he might initially think Hunter is just a bit of a brat (in the spoiled kid way not the other way this time). I mean one of the reasons Eddie thought Steve would be a douche was his parents being rich. It makes sense that might contribute to the same perception being applied to Hunter.

It's also arguably more true for Hunter. He IS a financially spoiled little fucker. The only way his dad knows how to try to make him happy is to buy him things. Broken his leg on stage? New guitar.

He doesn't know how to "comfort" him any other way. (and it's a piss-poor way of "comforting" your child btw) Aside: I also think Alan might have felt guilty for dropping Hunter in rehab just cause he didn't know what to do with him. So then having him get hurt right after would've only exacerbated that hence the $3.3k guitar as a "sorry, promise I probably love you, son"

But I do think that once the two come to more of an understanding and actually get to know each other properly they could be a chaos factory and a half. (I have a few WIP fics on the backburner that delve into that actually.) I mean Eddie does like Mike, who is a bit of a dick so he might also not have too much of a problem with Hunter being a dick. In any case, I think most of the "needing time" would be from Hunter's side.

Aside: I think especially a bit of maturing will help Hunter go a long way. Being seventeen ain't easy. I just think Hunter will start to become a lot more comfortable within himself in his twenties.

But in any case, I do think Hunter & Eddie would like each other after overcoming those hurdles. Which I also ultimately think they would overcome.

And I'm actually very attached to the idea that Hunter & Eddie would develop a sort of pseudo mentor/older brother dynamic. Which I think Hunter would actually really benefit from. As extensively established, his parents suck. (so do Eddie's tbf)

So I think having someone there to kind of fill a role adjacent to guidance would really help him. And having that be another metalhead is kind of important. Since Hunter's special interest is obviously metal and it's the framework he uses to make sense of the world. It really needs to be someone that speaks his language.

Aside: I'm always working within the concept that Eddie and Hunter are roughly as far apart in age as they are in their respective canon. As in: Eddie is 19/20 in canon, Hunter is 17 in canon. So if Hunter is aged up to 20, then Eddie is in his mid twenties. I'm not talking about this in a "Eddie was alive in the 80's and is now 50-something" kind of way.

Also a D&D game ran by Eddie with Hunter as a player would be fucking wild. If he can keep the friendly fire to a minimum I think they might enjoy playing D&D together a lot. Then again, Eddie's campaign was referred to as "sadistic" by Dustin, so maybe he wouldn't even mind the friendly fire lmao

I feel like this one is a little disjointed, I'm kind of all over the place mentally but I hope you still got something out of it, Blue Anon ^-^🤘

And as always, thank you for asking 🖤

#see now i'm wondering if this is still the same anon or someone different cause it's all blue #keeping me on my toes here #metal lords #hunter sylvester #eddie munson #stranger things #crossover #character analysis #hunter sylvester & eddie munson #eddie munson & hunter sylvester #hunterwriteswords #my post #answered ask #anon ask #hunters asks

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Hey Fozz! I'd love to hear about your Chucky HCS!

///// TW FOR GROOMING AND MENTIONS OF CSA //////

(Note that this is for my own version of the Chucky TL despite it taking ideas from the series/TV show)

You look like an angel (look like an angel) Walk like an angel (walk like an angel) Talk like an angel But I got wise

You're the devil in disguise Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise

--------------------------------------------------------------

The true beginning of Chucky's descent into the career of a serial killer had happened in the office of child therapist and psychologist Amanda Mixter, someone who was bored with their profession due to it being fored upon her by her parents

Until she had laid her eyes and claws into the recently traumatized 7 year old Charles Lee Ray, seeing someone she could mold into her own personal social experiment and.... compainionship on the side since she found it "too hard and too time consuming" to find it in the appropriate dating fields with men her age

Having been gaslit by her to the point of convining the young boy into believing that he had killed his mother on his own volition with no help or coercion from the killer that broke in that night instead of the truth of him being threathen with both his and his mother's life if he did not do so, Chucky during this time until he stopped seeing her at the age of 15 thought that she was the closest thing to a mother and sister figure that he had at the time

-------------------------------------------------------------

It took years until Chucky had met up with Tiffany again in their adulthood did he truly realize what had happened to him since Tiffany's look back then looked a LOT how Mixter did when she was young and it would actually bother Chucky a lot and would sometimes even cause flashbacks to encounters he had with Mixter (but of course never told Tiffany about it and lashed out at her a lot, hence it being a big part of why The Sarah Thing happened)

It was only after hearing one of the songs that he and Mixter used to "dance" to come over the radio in Jesse and Jade's van during the events of Bride and having a panic attack hearing it in front of Tiffany did he finally decide to tell her what happened with him and Mixter all those years ago (and went into detail into how it was one of the mian catalyst to The Sarah Thing after they had Glen and Glenda)

To this day Chucky still has a hard time every time one of the songs from their sessions comes on and HATES being called Charlie even though his mother used to call him that before she died becuase Mixter called him that so much (and he hated it even back then, but never protested), and he has a high distrust of authority figures, especially around his children

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This is a extermely heavy duty headcanon so I totally understand if this is all a bit much for you and others, I just hope that you're able to find it interesting (is that even a good word for this??)!

Have a great day my friend!!

#🌈 fozz's posts #🌈 fozz chit chats #tw grooming #grooming tw #tw csa #csa tw #chucky #chucky series spoiler #charles lee ray #childs play #chucky series #chucky ray #dr mixter #amanda mixter #headcanon #hc #hc dump #headcanon dump #chucky tv series #chucky tv show #chucky season two #chucky season 2 #bride of chucky #boc #soc #seed of chucky #headcanon art #art #fanart #fan art

[bitchinbarzal]

If your up to it would you write a blurb or something about jack finding out about stevie please?<3

You were in Michigan for the summer and Jack was away for a couple days on a golf trip with the boys leaving you at home.

Since he’d left you’d been having strange food aversions, weird feelings and had been missing him a lot.

So you did what any sane person would do, take a test and you were less than surprised to see it come back positive.

You didn’t want to make it a big deal; film it, make up a box for Jack you just wanted to share the news with him.

When he returned that night, the boys in tow all scrambling to tell you how Jack had cheated you asked if you could talk to him.

Everyone went silent, you were never so serious.

Jack agreed, headed into the next room with you. Immediately grabbing your hand when the door was closed.

“Babe what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You could hear the panic in his voice, turning to face him and handed him the test.

He looked down at his hands, registering the test.

“Is this- is this yours? Did you pee on this?!”

You deadpanned, looking at him with a ‘seriously?’ Look before you said

“Yeah, it’s mine. Yes, I peed on it you child. Yes, we’re havin’ a baby”

You peered up at him through your lashes, a soft smile on your face as you watched his grow “You’re for real?”

“As real as that test” you sniped.

He dropped the test, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground “Holy shit dude we’re gonna be parents!” The smile never leaving his face.

When you were securing back on the ground and he had patted your stomach just for safe measure he put up his finger and said “One sec” and left the room.

You listened to him exit the room and shout

“We’re having a baby, boys!” Followed by the loudest cheers you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your hand lay over your stomach and you chuckled

“I think you’re gonna be just fine kid, they’ve got your back”

#life of stevie

[ellievickstar]

Climbing Out (Chapter 1)

A/N: Yes we are starting a new series. Suck it up. I know there is a series I haven’t finished but I think the message in this one is more personal and important to me. I still take requests. Always.

(For general warnings and summary + Author’s note about the series look at my Climbing Out Masterlist here)

Please note this starts in books 2 of the ACOTAR series and there will be spoilers

Ship: Archeron!sister

Climbing Out Masterlist

Dead.

I felt dead inside as I stared at myself in the mirror. The bruises on my back were so prominent. Then there was pounding and I was suddenly there where the pain wouldn’t stop, my father, Amarantha, cackling, as pain lashed through my body, as a knife was driven through my-

I woke in a panic as I sat up in the sheets. There was fire dancing around my room as shadows screamed. “Calm down,” I commanded, the shadows, the flames. They slipped into quiet at my tone of voice. The screams turned to whispers, the embers turning to nothing. Sweat beaded down my brow as I glanced out he window. It was dawn, time to practice fighting with Lucien.

Unlike Feyre, Tamlin was not as overbearing towards me, especially since I was not exactly who he loved. I twirled light around my hand as I shaped it into a ball, as images from my mind was projected into the hand before me, as it was turned to the faces of my sisters. My family, at least by blood. The oldest sister who couldn’t care enough to check when she spotted the bruises on my face, my back. The middle child who was everyone’s favourite, who couldn’t spare a glance to let me know I wasn’t alone every time I tried to confide in her. And the my final sister…

Feyre had things to do. She kept the family alive, she tried, yes. I can’t deny that they all tried. In their own, flawed way, even my father. Every time he beat me I still couldn’t bring myself to hate him. Even when he could not care less when we were starving. Resentment, yes. But hate?

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

“Y/N? We have to train, can I come in?” Lucien. The voice belonged to Lucien. The ball of light in my hand vanished as I said yes. My fingers snapped and I was in training leathers, but as I stared into the mirror across the room. I knew that hollow look like the back of my own hand. Felt it.

Lucien paused as he noticed my hands slack on the bed, my hunched back, the look on my face. Sympathy flickered in his eyes as he reached out to me, exposing his hands to me. I still flinched away, still had that flash of fear in my mind. Weak. I couldn’t even handle someone approaching me without reacting. I was weak. The words resonated in my ears as I scooted away from Lucien slightly, an apology already making it’s way out of my mouth.

“Don’t be sorry,” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I know with everything it can be hard,” He remained where he was. “We can skip training today, do you want breakfast?” I considered. Breakfast? I could, but I ate too much yesterday. I shook my head and looked at the door and then to him. He nodded and left my room, closing the door on the way out.

He hates me. The thought hit me like a train. No he didn’t. Lucien was nice, he respected my boundaries, he knows why, he understands. He thinks your a burden, you are too needy, he is just being nice. I hung my head at the sickeningly intrusive thoughts, my hands going to clutch my ears at the loud, loud voices. My breathing sped up as I curled into a ball and backed away from the edge of the bed. My back met the wall and tears slid down my eyes. Why couldn’t I keep it in today?

I wiped my eyes as my mind battled to keep the voices away, to keep the emotions in, to let them bottled up, they could eat me alive for all I cared.

Feyre needed me, I needed to support her, even if I was dying inside. Have been for a while. I breathed out a sigh as I snapped my fingers and I was wearing a simple, sweet dress. The dress that presented the young girl I was, at least until the incidents.

Going down the stairs, Tamlin was there with Feyre. If I remembered right, tomorrow would have been their wedding but my sister was bursting with excitement like I would expect. I flashed them both a small smile as I asked for permission to roam the grounds with Lucien after I was done entertaining myself. Tamlin said yes, as expected and Feyre looked annoyed, it was unfair, that I got to roam around with no sentries and just Lucien who was my friend, it wasn’t far that she was drowning in protection.

The day passed just as quickly as any other, my anxiety was kept at bay so there wasn’t any emotional vulnerability except when I was playing music in the Art Studio that used to be for Feyre. I had begun to use it to play the violin on my own instead of staying in my room to do so.

The following day was, well, chaotic was one word. Entertaining was another. Maybe it was because the distress on Feyre’s face was so clear as I stood by the alter. Maybe because Rhysand showed up grinning like a fox, calling in the bargain, and my foolish sister, begging to stay even though deep down she wanted to end this god forsaken wedding.

I was swept away with her, thankfully, I sure as hell did not wan to deal with the aftermath of all this.

I have to admit, watching Feyre throw shoes at Rhysand was far more entertaining then it would have been to see her speak vows. But as I spotted that glint in his eyes when he expressed his distaste for her dress, not that he was wrong about the fact it looked absolutely disgusting, I realised why he came. Why he swept her away, something in me clicked. I didn’t have enough time to say anything before Feyre stormed to her room, disregarding my presence entirely. Rhysand turned to face me.

“And what powers did you receive?” He eyes me wearily. I decided that I was bored so showing him would have been so much more fun then telling him. Without warning, my powers whipped for him, cold ice combined with searing flame, dark night combined with the brilliance of day. He barely had enough time to shield but my light tore through it anyways then my powers vanished just before they could reach him, sucking into me as I called it back.

“I got most of the Seven Courts, the only one I didn’t get was The Spring Court, I think it had to do with preferences. I don’t particularly like Tamlin,” I drawled as I lounged on an arm chair near by, my fingers snapping for my gown that I had selected to change into a cotton shirt paired with comfortable leather pants. “So you got picky with your powers?” He teased and I rolled my eyes. “I knew I was dead, I was hoping for it, I didn’t want to come back. When I saw the lights in the darkness I knew what was happening and they had distinct colours, I accidentally broke a piece off of the Spring Court, so I don’t have its powers,” I picked at my nails.

That’s when i felt something sift through my mind. I hissed as I shoved it out and slammed down a wall of everything i had combined and mixed into a powerful shield. “Don’t look into my head you asshole,” I seethed at him, but there was fear at the back o my head, he could have been there for just minutes, but it was enough to see what happened. The look on his face was not reassuring.

“You were-,” “Yes i was,” I cut him off, not wanting to speak about it, “My father had a certain way of expressing how he felt, it was my fault for never having anything to do,” I brushed off, but the crack of my voice and the tears in my eyes gave me away.

“What a prick,” A female voice sounded as a blonde haired fae stepped into the light. I snorted, indeed. Rhysand glanced at the female and then to me before sighing. “Y/N, this is Morrigan, my cousin. Mor, this is Y/N,” Morrigan smiled at me. “Please call me Mor,” She said, her voice was like night yet not, the voice of the Princess of Nightmares. “I will if you call me Y/N/N,” I grinned. Her answering smirk was like a wolf’s and I swore that I heard Rhysand send a prayer to the cauldron.

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A/N: Who wants to kill someone? Just me? Got it. Love you guys. (BTW I have been working on this for four days) <3

Climbing Out Masterlist

#acotar #acosf #acotar fandom #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #rhysand #azriel #azriel x reader #acofas #Mor Acotar #archeron sisters #elain acotar #elain archeron #feyre archeron #Nesta archeron #emotional abuse