#Well at least she can heal now? still. ow.)

[multiversal-pudding]

Do ypu think that now Uzi’s possibly? partly-organic/cyborgy (depending on what exactly the solver did to her while she was in that coccoon), she can now process human food?

Her tasting chocolate for the first time and crying

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.

[terry-perry]

Hi there! I saw you were looking to do Alastor requests, and I have a…spicier one in mind.

So the scenario I was hoping for, if you are comfortable with it is consensual cannibalism. The Reader (female) has an advanced regenerative and healing ability and is also a masochist.

So after the Extermination, Reader helps Alastor heal and also offers her flesh to him. Things go from there. Maybe some aftercare at the end, too?

It's not exactly smut, but some crazy, kinky, bloody stuff is involved!

TRIGGER WARNING!

Y/N was the one who found him in his radio tower, muttering and wincing to himself. She'd been the only one who searched for him after the battle. His disappearance from it was so sudden that she had her suspicions. Finding her friend in such a state was heartwrenching, especially since he always seemed so composed. Now he appeared so broken, fragile, wounded.

She approached him with caution. He was her friend, but an infamous demon, forced into a corner by the First Man too. Like dealing with many beasts, it was best to proceed with caution.

"Alastor?" She called out to him slowly.

His head snapped up upon hearing her. His dark eyes narrowed to get a better look at her. After doing so, his strained smile came with a snarl. "I do not want you to see me in such a state..."

"We've all taken a beating today Alastor," she said, walking over to him in a still careful manner. Slowly she knelt before his curled up figure on the floor. "You were smart to leave when you did. Gave you time to heal."

"Well, as you can see..." he took his hand away from his chest, which spewed out some blood that darkened his already red attire. "I may need a little more time."

She saw the way the blood covered his chest like splattered paint. He certainly took a beating after fighting hard. She was at least happy the wound was wide yet shallow. What she hated was noticing the way he attempted to reach out to her but grimaced in pain while doing so. She found it so awful to see him like this that it made her act on impulse.

Alastor didn't have time to protest as she already had her hand over his injury. He watched how she concentrated on it, how her hand suddenly had a golden light under it as his chest felt very warm then cool. Once she let go, he saw he was as good as new! No blood or anything!

"You're welcome!" She chirped, making an effort to break the tense silence.

It didn't help since before she knew it, he was throwing himself on top of her. He looked down at her, pinning her to the floor. He looked wild and savage as his eyes changed into those notorious radio dials and his sardonic grin had blood leaking out from its corners.

"I don't recall asking for your help, my dear," he growled. "You know better than to make the Radio Demon owe you his life!"

She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of Alastor's threats. They'd always been rather close and respected one another. Yet she forgot two important things about him:

He despised being on someone's hook.

And he always needed to be in control.

He already lost his sense of control in the battle when fighting Adam. His microphone was split in two, and he'd been no better. Now that she saw him in bad shape and offered him assistance in healing, he needed to find a way to regain power - to show he still could intimidate.

She was terrified...but also excited.

She doesn't know why it excited her. It might've had something to do with the fact she was hell-born and had no real experience with pain or death. It didn't help that she was born with regenerative healing abilities that helped her survive every scuffle she'd find herself in. Whatever the reason, the way Alastor bent over her gave her pleasant tingles.

She knew he didn't desire sexual depravity the way others down there did, but he did have other carnal urges that could benefit them both.

"Hurt me then Alastor," she said, growing bold with a coy smirk. "Give me all the anger you have. Take it out on my flesh."

There are some things people just don't expect. Even in Hell, surprises can come. For a demon like Alastor, he took pride in how little can shock him, humble him. Yet he's recently realized he's not in as much control as he claimed to be. He's been beaten, insulted, taken hold of. A new sense of purpose was required. A way to show power again.

But this?

"I know you want to," she hissed up at him. "You want to devour me. Go ahead! At least you'll be good at that!"

She knew that did the trick since he returned to his malicious state. His large, sharp-tooth grin opened into a gaping maw that attacked her. She let out a cry as he bit down hard on her shoulder. She wrapped her legs around his waist while his teeth pierced her so fiercely that she could practically feel his gums on her skin. She pushed him further by grabbing a hold of his hair as she moaned so desperately. He held her so tightly that her cries grew strenuous.

She loved every second of it, especially when he managed to tear off some of her flesh.

----

With a snap of his finger, Alastor conjured up a small flame that helped her with her cigarette. She inhaled, released a puff of smoke, and relaxed after their little escapade. They remained on the floor of his radio tower, now snuggled up together. He looked over her body, his claws tracing the marks he left behind before they disappeared.

It was just what he needed for the time being to satiate his hunger. Full freedom was still far from his grasp, but he at least found a way to play with his needs. Thanks to her, his burning yearnings were temporarily fulfilled.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Deception~

Morax (Zhongli) x Adeptus! Reader | Ch. I |

Oh hello, my dear readers! I hope you are all having a good day/night! This story is actually a requested story. Now, I know I said that requests are closed, but this person sent me this same request on my older account and so I feel as if I owe it to them for being so patient. So this is a request from @sailorstar9 and I decided to make this into a two/three-part story because I have a really good idea on how to write this. I’ll share with y'all what the first part said so the second part doesn’t get spoiled…you know…just to keep you all on edge ToT. Anyways, here is part of the request!

“As promised, my request piece inspire by your 'Betrayal' series. It's been a while since I submitted the original, so I try to recall what I wrote as much as I can. Here goes. Adeptus!Reader is one of the few Adepti who specializes in healing and purification; it had been her purification rites that prevented the Yakshas from succumbing to their karmic debts. More importantly, she is Rex Lapis' wife, a position Guizhong always wanted for herself. It was at one of the Adepti gatherings that Rex Lapis proudly announced that Reader is pregnant. The other Adepti rejoiced; their Lord finally had an heir. Meanwhile, Guizhong seethed inwardly and she started to plot”

And so, here is chapter I to “Deception”. I hope it meets your expectations! And thank you for the amazing request! Enjoy~

I smiled as tears slowly fell down my face, my body softly glowing from the pure joy I felt. In my hand lay a gorgeous blue lotus flower, confirming my suspicions. Just to be sure, however, I picked up another white lotus flower and let one of my tear drops fall onto it. Within seconds, the white flower quickly transformed into a blue colored lotus, letting me know that I was in fact pregnant. I quickly ran back to Morax’s palace, excited to tell him the news. We had been trying for months, and I mean we were really, really trying. However, no matter what, every time I came out to the Garden of Blooming Lotus’, they would always stay white, telling us that we still had not successfully made a baby. It was getting to the point where I was becoming worried that it was me.

Thankfully, all of that can be put to rest now after seeing the blue flower. I had never loved the color blue so much up until this point. 

–

A few minutes passed and I finally made it back to my and my beloved’s home. 

“Hey, N/n-Woah! Why are you glowing??” Bosacius asked as he covered his eyes. I turned to him with the biggest smile ever, the flower still in my hand.

“Oh Bosa, it is because I have just found out amazing news!” I said, running past him towards Morax’s throne. 

“Woah! Tell me what it is! I wanna know!” He called out to me, but I ignored him, too busy with my own thoughts of how Morax would react.

Once I finished running up the stairs, I saw that his doors were closed, meaning that he was in a meeting with the other archons. I know I should just wait…I don’t want to interrupt his important meetings…

But this is far more important! At least to me it is…and I would hope it was more important to him as well. I shrugged my shoulders and quickly pushed open the doors, the sound echoing throughout the entire room. There were about 15 other archons there, all of who looked back at me to see what I was doing. Morax stopped speaking mid-sentence when he saw you, his pride and joy, standing there with the brightest smile he had ever seen. Not to mention, your body was glowing a bit. That alone made his heart flutter and jump. 

However, he was soon full of concern when he saw your eyes. They were full of tears…yet your body displayed the complete opposite emotion of sadness…

“Excuse us, Y/n, but we are in a very important meeting.” Guizhong said, glaring daggers at you, but you were too busy to notice. 

“No, this meeting is finished. We will have further discussion another time. You may all leave.” Morax said, motioning for them to leave, his eyes still fixated on you. 

“But, Morax, we haven’t finished talking about-”

“I said leave.” Morax said back, this time taking his eyes off of you and onto Guizhong.

“Oh…it’s okay. I can come back once you guys are finish-” You started to speak, but Morax stopped you.

“No, my love. You stay here. Everyone else…out…now!” He said, his voice booming throughout the entire room. Everyone quickly got up out of their seats and scurried out of the room, leaving you and Morax completely alone. 

He got up from his throne, walking down the short set of stairs to get closer to you. 

Once he reached you, he placed his hand out, cupping your face and wiping your tears.

“My dear…why are you crying? Is something the matter? Did someone harm you?” He asked softly, placing soft kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. 

Suddenly, a giggle emitted from your mouth, confusing Morax even more.

“Morax, my love, I am okay…in fact, I am overflowed with joy.” You said, wrapping your arms around him, bringing him down to your lips. You kissed him with such passion and love that it almost made Morax fall down to his knees.

“As much as I am happy to hear you are so happy…may I ask what happened to make you this way?”

“I have a surprise for you…” I said, showing him both of the blue lotus flowers.

He took a second to examine what you have just showed him, taking in the details before his eyes almost popped out of his face. He snapped his head back to you, his eyes full of hope but his mouth at a loss for words. It all made sense now. Why you were so happy, why you had tears in your eyes, why you were glowing, it all made sense!

“Y-You’re…You’re…”

“I believe the word you are looking for is…pregnant!” You said happily, jumping.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized that he is going to be a father. Soon, he will have a family with the woman he loves so much. 

He quickly grabbed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and twisting you in the air with him, laughing at the great news.

“Oh, I can’t believe that I am going to be a father soon!” He said with a bright smile, kissing you as you were still in the air. 

You giggled a bit as you wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss.

You both cut off the kiss a little while after, allowing you both to breathe. As you did, you both continued to stare at each other lovingly.

“You are going to be a great father, Morax. Our little baby is going to absolutely adore you.” You said, cupping his cheek in your hand.

Morax’s heart almost jumped out of his chest at your sweet words.

“And our little baby is going to be so lucky to have a mother like you. Any kid would. When I saw you playing with some of the children last year during our Archon party, I knew you would be amazing as a mother…and I’m so happy to know that you are the mother of my child…our child.” he said, softly landing you back on your feet.

He leaned down once more, placing his lips softly on yours, almost as if he didn’t want to break you.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you so much and will never stop, even after my death.” He spoke softly to you, holding your hand in his.

You smiled up at him, feeling your heart race at his words. Even after all these years of being married to him, he still always knows how to make your heart flutter.

“And I love you, Morax. I always will, no matter what, and even after death.” I said, copying a bit of his sentence.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

“We have to tell the others of this great news! They would love to hear it!” He suggested, making you smile

“I was thinking the same thing. Especially because Bosa is expecting me to tell him soon and if I don’t, he will be very heartbroken.” I said, making Morax smile as he walked me out. 

“Thankfully, everyone should still be outside. So it should be no issue for us to get the message out quickly.” He said happily, holding your hands in his.

–

After a few minutes of you two talking as you walked outside, you two finally made it to the stone staircase, seeing everyone still out and about, including the Yaksha’s.

“Attention everyone!” Morax called out, his voice booming throughout the entire area. 

Everyone suddenly came to a stop and focused their attention towards you two.

“We have some very exciting news to share with all of you. My wife would like to say something.” Morax said, looking down at you with a soft smile.

You looked out to everyone, specifically the Yaksha’s and smiled happily, placing your hand on your stomach.

“We are having a baby!” You said outloud. Within seconds cheers and gasps were heard from all around you.

Inadarius and Bonanus ran up to you two and congratulated you, excited about the new baby that would soon be here in this world. 

“Oh I can’t believe it! You are going to make such a good mother, N/n!”

“I bet you it’s going to look exactly like you, N/n.”

“I hope that is the case.” Morax said, looking towards you

“The mother is very beautiful in every way after all.” He said, caressing your face.

Heat rose to your face as he flirted with you.

“Not in front of everyone, Morax.” You said, trying to hide the smile forming on your face.

“Yo, N/n! What are you planning on naming the baby? I’ve got a couple ideas!” Bosa said

“Please, your ideas come from you combining two of the first things you see.” Menogias says, rolling his eyes at him

“Nuh uh!” Bosa said

“Oh really, so where did you get dirt-cloud from?” Bonanus asked, knowing all too well that Bosa came up with the name by looking at the ground and the sky

“It was just an idea! Damn!” Bosa said, pouting from his friends teasing.

You chuckled at them, happy that they were all so excited for you. However, you couldn’t help but get an off feeling coming from behind you. 

You turned around and saw Guizghong standing there, staring at you with lifeless eyes. It was very…unsettling to say the least.

“G-Guizhong! I didn’t see you there.” You said, trying to start up some sort of conversation with her. 

Suddenly, Morax looked to where you were looking, seeing Guizhong. When she saw that Morax was looking at her, her whole demeanor changed. What once looked like a lifeless form turned into one full of happiness and love.

“Oh, sorry about that. I was just…thinking. Anyways, I must head back to my home. I have some…things I need to work on. Congrats on your baby by the way, Morax! See you both later!” She said, quickly turning on her heels and speeding off to her place.

For some reason you had a weird feeling in your gut. It was all washed away, however, when Morax pulled you into him, placing a finger under your chin.

“I can’t wait to start our family, my love. I especially can’t wait to start our family with you~”

He said, placing another soft kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, feeling any worry or doubt in your body burn away and be replaced by love. You had no idea what the future held for you two, but no matter what, you knew you and Morax would get through it…

Together~

_______________________________________

Tag list (How to be added):

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 4/8

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

18+

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacation in Dubai she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the middle east looking for her.

Enjoy!

"Taxi!"

You called for one outside of the airport in London. You were tired from the journey and longed for a hot shower back at your apartment.

"Taxi!" You shouted, quite desperate for one to pull up.

"Y/N, chill." Alicia said. "Our ride will be here in a minute."

"Our ride?" You frowned.

Alicia nodded, phone still pressed to her ear. "I'm consulting the Siddiq family right now, see if they can send us a...."

Alicia's eyes widened with terror as you lunged for her phone, forcing her to hang up.

"Whatta fuck Y/N!"

"Are you crazy?" You hissed

"Am I crazy, are you crazy Y/N? Give me back my phone for fuck sakes."

You held her phone behind your back, refusing to return it. "Alicia we are not doing this. We can not continue spending somone elses money. It has to end. Right now."

"Why? They owe us don't they?"

"No Alicia, they owe us nothing, especially not you." It was not her leg that grilled in the fire. "The Siddiq family has shown us enough kindness then we deserve, this will not go on any longer, agreed?"

She didn't agree. However, she could tell how serious you were about this. "Fine." She said, stretching out a hand, demanding her phone back.

"Who are you gonna call?"

"Well, it's not Ghostbusters, is it? I'm calling a taxi."

You handed her back the phone, a sly smile on your face.

The days passed quickly there on, like your time in Portugal never happened. The burn on your leg healed but roughly, the skin not as smooth on that part of your leg. The only times it bothered you was when you got out of the shower, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror. However, no one was gonna see you naked, at least not for some time. Yes, you felt guilty for giving Ruben a fake number, but you held your ground when it came to not live off of some rich business man in Dubai. It was the only reason Ruben was interested in you in the first place, because he thought you were rich like him. But no more lies. Meeting Ruben was a lie and even though falling for him felt real it was built on a lie and no relationship could ever flourish from somthing like that, right?"

"Miss?"

"Miss?"

"Yes, Simon?"

You snapped out of your daydreams, peering over your desk to see one of your kindergarten students with a pen up their nose."

"It's stuck." He said.

You sighed, rising from behind your desk. "Let's go to the nurses office shall we?"

"Okay."

You had one of your colleagues come in and cover for you whilst you escorted Simon to the school nurse. Yes, your life was really back to it's glamorous self.

"Hey, Y/N? Need a lift?"

It was Byron, seen crossing the school parking lot to get to you. You were really not in the mood, still adjusting being back to work. All you wanted to do was go home and lay in your bath.

"Sure Byron, why not."

He was considered a friend, although you know he never really got over your brief hook up in university.

"The kids are glad to have you back."

"Oh, thanks Byron. That's nice of you to say."

He drove you home the long way, avoiding the highway that would only take you ten minutes to arrive.

"Not only the kids." He added. "I missed you too."

Your smile was stiff, but at least it was something.

"When Nina told me what happened to you in Dubai I got so worried that I had to take a day off just to calm myself down, not to worry the kids that their teacher wasn't coming back to work."

"That sweet of you Byron. But it wasn't a serious thrid degree burn, my skin heald pretty quickly." Your boss Nina made it seemed like you lost a limb or something. Mainly because Alicia's dramatic Tik Tok's had people assuming the worst. Even your parents called you in concern after your brothers came across one of Alicia's vlogs from the hospital in Dubai.

"Well, I'm just glad you're back."

"Thanks Byron."

He was a sweet guy, not relationship sweet, but a descent human being sweet. You appreciate how much he cared for you as a friend.

"I have no problems giving you a ride to and from work, I mean we're basically on the same schedule."

"Thanks Byron, but I don't think that will be necessary."

Alot of people had offered to help you out,  even your boss suggested you'd cut back on your hours a work, however, it wasn't necessary. You needed something to take your mind off things. With things you meat, your agonizing thoughts of what could have been between you and Ruben.

Arriving home, you grabbed yourself a light snack from the fridge whilst waiting for your hot tub to fill with water. Once it did you, stripped yourself of your clothes, slipping I to the scolding water, allowing the heat to relax your muscles. You did not stay relaxed for long though, seeing as there was an incoming facetime call from your phone. "What?" You grunted, since now was not the time to hear about the latest gossip at Alicia's workplace.

"Hey, gorgeous,"

You stiffened at the sound of his voice.

"Ruben?"

You were looking into the screen of your phone, in disbelief of who was staring back at you. It was Ruben, with his hair sprouting in every direction as he looked to lay back in a bed, one arm draped behind his neck. "Um...hi." You stuttered, not really sure how any of this was possible.

Ruben smiled "I just wanted to see how you're doing and see if you're missing me as much as I'm missing you."

"Um, how...?"

"Did I get your real number?" He chuckled.

Heat rose to your face.

"Well, after calling "your number" over a hundred times, Fabio let me get in touch with your friend who told me what was going on."

"Alicia gave you this number?"

"Mhm." He nodded, tossing what looked to be a grape, into his mouth. "She told me that you thought that I wasn't that into you, that perhaps I was only out to screw you over or something."

"She did what?"

"It's ridiculous, I agree. How do you even come up with something like that? I mean you're the one who screwed me over by letting me call a fake number like an idiot."

There was a jab in your stomach as his tone was serious, laced with sincere hurt. "Ruben I'm so sorry. I didn't..."

"Let's not play the blame game." He waved. "Your friend made it clear that you haven't been dating for a while and that your game might be a bit stiff."

"Pardon?"

Ruben laughed.

"I am not stiff."

"I believe you." He said, although he had trouble talking between laughs. "I mean you look pretty relaxed in that bathtub back there."

You gasped when you realized. "Oh my god. Ruben I'm...." Embarrassed. You were terrible embaresssed, sinking deeper into the water to cover yourself. You and Ruben hadn't talked for days and the first thing he sees is you slipping him a nipple.

"It's okay, Y/N, really. The view is great from here."

"Oh shut up."

You put the phone away, letting Ruben have a good view of your bathroom ceiling. The tub needed more water, and bubbles, lots of of bubbles.

"There you are." He exclaimed, once you returned to the screen, now neck deep in in the water. "Thought I lost you for a sec."

"Ruben, maybe now is not the time." You said, tormentented by how stupid you must come across to him.

"Y/N." He said, his voice now restrained.

"What?" You muttered, trying to stare at anything but the screen.

"Look at me."

Your eyes looked up, meeting Ruben's kind gaze.

"You're good, okay. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by calling unexpectedly. I just...." He sighed, a hand running through his already messy hair. "I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

You sunk deeper into the water,  biting down on your lip. "Me too. I can't stop thinking about you either."

"Well, when can we meet?" He seemed excited that your feelings were mutual.

"Ruben, I'm not sure I'll be going back to Portugal anytime soon. I mean I have a job to do and..."

"Y/N." He said. No. Chuckled.

"What's so funny?" You frowned

"You really don't watch football do you?"

"What do you mean?"

Ruben sat up in bed, showing off the tracksuit he was wearing. "You said you've heard of Manchester United, no?"

"Yes, the English team that you told me played in the Premier League."

"Right. Well I play for their arche rivals Manchester City, meaning I live in Manchester, England."

"Wait what?"

"Yeah."

"So, you're not from Portugal?"

He chuckled. "I'm from Portugal Y/N, I was born and raise there. But just like you I was just on vacation. I got back to Manchester yesterday."

"So what you're saying is that we're both in England as we speak?"

"Yes. And my team has fixtures in London all the time, meaning I'll be able to come see you between games."

"Right."

The problem was that you had once again lied to Ruben when he asked you were in England you lived. You figured London sounded more suitable abode for a business woman, not Chells Way, Stevenage.

"Y/N, you alright?"

The downside about facetime was that your emotions were all on display. Ruben clearly caught your reaction to his offer and it was not what he had expected.

"Of course, there is no pressure for us to meet." He said, clearing his throat. "I just thought, that it was something that we both wanted."

"I want to meet." You nodded, although your voice betrayed you. "I just...my job, you know?" It was another lie. You were piling lie upon lie on this fake love of yours. Nevertheless, Ruben ate it all up, nodding understandingly. "I get it."

He was so kind. He didn't deserve this from you, from anyone.

"Ruben?" You whispered, following a moment spent in silence.

"Yes."

"I really missed you."

A muscle jerked in the corner of his lips. "I missed you too."

"Tell me." You sighed, leaning back against the tub, splashing water around yourself. "Tell me how much you've missed me."

Ruben froze for a brief moment, seeing you redirect the camera angle in a way that revealed more of your body.

"Alot." He gulped, watching you dip a hand between your legs.

"Yeah? Tell me more."

He couldn't see all of you through the murky water. But as the layers of bubbles disappeared with your slow shifts, the swell of your breast resurfacing.

"Oh, baby don't do this to me." Ruben's head fell back against his pillows as he too adjusted his camera angles. You watched him slip a hand down his sweatpants and stroke whatever he was hiding in there. "I missed you so much, wishing you were here, with me." He moaned, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breathing.

"Ruben, please. Tell me what you want to do to me." You up the pace of the movement between you legs. You we drawing small circles against your clit, the sensation sending chocks of lightning to your body's nerve endings.

"I want to fuck you, hard." He groaned.

"Yeah, and?"

"Fuck you hard and watch your tittes bounce when you ride me."

"Yes, and?" You were squinting your eyes, primitive moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout your bathroom.

"And..." He grunted on the edge of something. His movements down his pants were faster than yours, unable to contain himself.

"And, Ruben? Please tell me."

"Baby, I can't. I'm close." Ruben's camera shook with the bouncing of his bed. You watch him please himself, please himself to the image of you.

"Me too baby, me too." You arched your back in the tub, one of your legs going over the edge, opening yourself up wider. "Look at me baby, watch me come for you."

He seemed unable to multitask, having to slow down as not to make himself come before you. He watched you please yourself to the point of screaming his name, you're fingers buried deep inside of you.

"Fuck." He groaned, staining his bedsheets with the erruption of his cock.

"That felt good." You smiled, regaining your breath, coming down from the high. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Me neither." Ruben said, no longer in his bed. He looked to be in a small bathroom, washing his hands. "Sametime tomorrow?"

You shook your head, unable to hide your smile. "Goodbye Ruben."

He smiled, a cheeky smile. "Goodbye Y/N."

[stinkysam]

Roronoa Zoro - So I hear

Warning : canon typical violence

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : MR is fighting Big Mom while Zoro is fighting King, and they are both thinking about each other in the fight. MR is able to defeat Big Mom and Zoro ends up hearing the news about his husband victory.

Reader : male (you/he)

"His injuries are really healed !" Yelled Chopper, amazed.

"It's what follows that scares me." Said the other doctor with him.

"Where is [Name] ?!" Zoro asked.

"He's fighting Big Mom ! With Law !" Answered Sanji.

Zoro gave him a nod, "What's up with you ?" He asked Sanji while dodging Queen's attacks.

"Nothing. Since I put on the Raid Suit last time, my body is a little…"

"You're not gonna slow me down, are you ?"

"I said it's nothing ! My body is just a little odd."

"Well you do have weird eyebrows."

"My body, not my face, idiot ! You should worry about [Name] instead of my eyebrows !"

"I don't worry about him, I know he got it."

He is fully confident in your strengths and skills and does not fear for you. He knows you're not alone, and with Law by your side, you can take down Big Mom. Still, he cannot help but think of you.

"You owe me one !" Yelled Zoro after stopping King.

"Now we're even !" Yelled back Sanji after stopping Queen's attack.

He hoped everything was going well for you and you weren't too hurt by Big Mom's powerful attacks.

You were in the same mindset.

You knew Zoro was strong. You didn't know he was already back on his feet, but you knew he would be in no time.

"Eustass-ya !" Yelled Law.

"Get him ! Hera, Napoléon !" Said Big Mom, raising her sword.

"What the hell, stop being a dead weight ! Shambles !" 

Kid's head was throbbing way too much for a normal headache.

"Come on, get up, Eustass !" You screamed.

"Mamamamamahaha ! Let's start with you, Kid." Said Big Mom, jumping after him into the hole. But just as she jumped, Law used a special attack.

"Kroom ! Anesthesia." And his sword pierced her in the throat before sending shock waves in her body.

You hoped whatever he was doing now was going better than your fight with Big Mom.

Zoro took time to breathe while King and Queen were arguing.

"He's pretty strong… but that's hardly a surprise."

"Having trouble on the live floor ? Need a hand ?" Franky asked

"Nah ! I'm good. Sorry Franky, need you to step back."

And with those words, Franky ran away.

If his fight against King doesn't tire him too much, he might try to give you a hand. That is if your fight isn't over already. But seeing how tough Big Mom is, it's not likely.

He wonders if you're doing okay with Law. He's strong and a surgeon, so it might help if you're hurt.

Then the fight with Queen and King took a turn, Queen went to fight only Sanji while he left Zoro to King.

But quickly it also takes a serious tone.

"You should at least use a blade when you go for a kill. What you just pulled is unforgivable."

-

The first word Zoro yelled when he woke up was : "Booze !!", his second was your name. Almost yelling right in your ear.

"Am here, love."

Zoro blushed a second at the nickname.

"So you survived Big Mom." He smiled proudly.

You smiled back just as proudly, if not more, flexing your muscles. "I need more than that to die. You survived, too. Apparently, you became a mummy ?" You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Tsk. For a brief moment only. You know I need more than that to be put aside too."

[stomach-bugg09]

hiii,i saw that requests ante open and was wondering if we can get a fali fic? 🫢 I don’t really mind/have a preference for what it’s about but maybe angst with some fluff at the end??? idek you’re the writer so you can choose, that’s basically it, and btw your fics are lush!! i love themm

thankyouuu <3

a/n: okay, hey !! took me a lil bit to ponder this idea and what would be the best approach , but i think this suits it with a lil bit of angst and then some comforting fluff. thanks so much for the kind words !! please, please, please comment feedback + reblog ( everything's easier when you have the motivation of your readers )

summary: fali is recovering from the bullet he took to save neteyam, but he's never been very patient.

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @theycallmesia @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom

healing is hard

after eighteen years of existing, fali was never once considered patient. even when young, his mother could recall the numerous times where she scolded the poor na’vi for not waiting for her or his father before he dove right into the reef. she could also recall the way her heartbeat would flare when he let out a mischievous feat of laughter followed by a loud splash.

she had to say, though, that she would much prefer those small spikes of fear over the moment in which she witnessed tsireya speeding back atop her ilu, a limp body draped in front of her. 

vi’ieo and fpai had just been discussing the whereabouts of their son in concerned, hushed tones when they heard the olo’eyktan’s daughter yell, “help! it is fali!”

nothing could prepare either parent for the rush of nausea and dread that flooded their bodies at those four words; if they weren’t thankful for ronal beforehand, they owed their lives to her. no mother wants to experience the unforgiving event that it the loss of a child.

not again, at least. not after they lost what was supposed to be their first baby girl just before she was born. 

but now… now fali was okay. or, getting to it, at least. he was alive, and he was healed, but he still hurt. every movement he made, everytime he attempted to go through with tasks that he used to consider as easy if not daily.

he couldn’t even walk to the edge of the shore and back without help from someone else.

after being raised the only child of his parents and the supposed older brother to tsireya and ao’nung ( and then eventually rotxo ), fali picked up so many subconscious habits. he was reliable, he was independent, he was strong. now he was reliant, dependent, weak. he didn’t feel like fali te auahi fpai’itan.

everybody around the healing na’vi felt his frustration. they felt this sadness, his mourning of who he used to be. they felt the anger that surged through his body at the limited movement his left arm and leg now possessed after the bullet just barely impacted his spine enough to cause mobility issues.

it hurt. it hurt him, it hurt them, it hurt everyone.

and fpai and vi’ieo also missed the child he used to be. the child he was before he grew up, the child he was before he became the warrior, the child he was before they let war touch him. before they let war hurt him. but, they would forever be grateful for his mere survival above all else.

while fali saw their perspective, while he recognized the blessing that was his life, he was so sick of it. he was so sick of being thankful, of being gracious for eywa. he wanted his life back! he wanted his arm and leg back! for all he knew, fali would never even see battle again — he would never see the thing that he spent his entire childhood training for.

an impressive warrior whose skills were wasted on an avatar’s stupid bullet.

while everyone else tried to push a positive perspective onto the angry and healing na’vi, [y/n] knew better. she knew that wasn’t an option — not based on his personality, at least.

was she happy he was still alive? well, of course! in fact, she often jumped awake in the middle of the night and pressed a hand to his chest from where she slept right next to him, checking that he was still breathing. checking that he was still there.

but, [y/n] could never expect him to share the same exact outlook that she did, and she could never pretend to understand what he was struggling with. that would just be a lie, and she could never lie to him. not to her love.

so, instead of trying to get him to rest every time he stood up, instead of stopping him before he limped out of the marui, she gave him a soft smile and a nod. and then, of course, a wink followed by words meant only to push buttons ( which would hopefully only motivate him to success ), “scream if you need anything.”

he would roll his eyes, waddle out, and after about five minutes, [y/n] would be outside the marui. her eyes would be caught on his figure in the distance, oftentimes leaned up against a tree or paused while trying to catch his breath.

sometimes, although her heart shattered the most during these moments, he would be paused with his makeshift cane in hand, back hunched as sobs echoed through the breeze.

but [y/n] knew better than to barge in. she knew that, as much as every part of her body and soul itched to go and help him — to insist that it would be okay — it was only up to fali to decide whether or not that would be true.

it was only once, though, that [y/n] came running to him.

he’d been walking, small grunts of frustration heard all the way from where [y/n] stood. her gaze was soft against his back full of tattoos, scars, and muscles that she knew all too well.

and then, in a split second, everything broke.

the na’vi before her let out a yell of fury before throwing his cane into the sand, knees shaking as he fell onto them. the soft, wet sand was imprinted with his weight, allowing him to dip an inch shorter. 

[y/n] feet started moving before her mind did, practically running down the wooden docks and through the sand. the squishy substance tickled between her toes at each new step, until eventually she strut right past the tearful na’vi and grabbed his cane.

she spun around on her heel, looking him right in the eye, and she extended her arm towards him. the long piece of drift wood he’d adapted to be his mobile assistant faced him in an offering.

but, just as fali reached up and attempted to take it from [y/n]’s hand, she pulled it away and threw it about ten feet to her right.

stunned, fali blinked at her. “[y/n],” he gasped, shocked. “what are you —”

“get up.”

[y/n] voice was solid, firm. authoritative. all of sudden, fali couldn’t take his glassy eyes away from her, jaw dropped in complete shock due to her attitude. what was she up to? “[y/n],” he tried again, voice soft and shallow due to the sobs that sat at the base of his throat.

she merely shook her head at her healing lover. “no,” she refused. “no, you’re going to get up.”

“i —” he paused, checking his words carefully. “[y/n], what are you doing?”

[y/n] locked his eyes, not once making an effort to assist him in any form. “i’m telling you to get up. get on your feet and walk.”

once more, fali opened his mouth, but this time… this time it shut in a pregnant bubble of silence. instead of arguing any more than he already had, he placed two hands on the ground and attempted to push upwards.

and then, just like that, fali was back in his own head. not once did he realize, as he pushed himself over the edge, that he wasn’t alone, and yet… for the first time ever since he started leaving every afternoon to try and make progress… he was finally able to do it.

by himself.

but he wasn’t by himself. [y/n] was there right next to him, words of encouragement flooding from her lips with every noise of desperation or anguish. everytime he even made a signal of falling back down, more words spilling right into his ears.

and soon, before he even knew it, he was standing. by himself.

and his arms were wrapped around the familiar body of [y/n]. the same warmth he adored every night. the same build that made him feel safe. the same na’vi that made him rethink every part of his life.

he could have never made it without her. anywhere. not just to a new point in his recovery, but he couldn’t have made it to the person he considered himself to be then.

fali without [y/n] would be the same arrogant na’vi that pushed ao’nung’s buttons. the same na’vi that made dumb decisions. the same na’vi who prided himself only on his abilities on the battlefield.

with [y/n], he finally realized there was so much more to himself than he ever knew or knew to recognize.

he pressed his face into [y/n]’s hair, the soft strands soaking up his salty tears of joy. his shoulder shook every so slightly, and fali could feel [y/n]’s own trembling body.

it’d been so difficult.

“i’ve been wanting to help, you know,” [y/n] sniffed into his chest. “i just knew it wouldn’t have helped. the last thing i wanted to do was make things more difficult.”

fali swallowed. “i know, yawne, i know.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. he couldn’t manage to summon anything louder, for he was world this beauty of a reality would disintegrate into a dream.

“but,” she continued softly. “i also knew you needed to be open to help. help from me, help from your parents, help from everyone. you can’t do everything alone.”

fali paused, silence overcoming them as he thought. she was right, of course, but he hated that idea. he was already vulnerable with his injuries. the last thing he wanted was pity from anyone else.

“i just…” he trailed. “i’m scared.”

[y/n]’s heart broke, her breath hitching in her throat at the big confession. “that’s okay.” she looked upwards, eyes locking between the two. “it’s okay to be scared.”

“what if i don’t get better?” he admitted, tears creating shiny streaks against his blue cheeks. “what if this is it? what if i can’t fight anymore?”

and then, as shocking as  it was to fali, a laugh bubbled from [y/n]’s throat. he gave her a quizzical look and asked, “what’s funny?”

“well, it’d be fine by me, is all,” she admitted, a smile resting on her lips. “i like it better when i know you're safe and not at war.”

he couldn’t help but feel a smile rise to his own mouth as well. “well, you’d still be fighting.”

she gave him a look that read duh before continuing. “plus, if you do learn to lead the village from the interior… you could be at home.” she paused, shrugging. “if we ever wanted a family and all.”

fali paused, looking into her eyes deeply. suddenly, all he could feel was his stupid grin. “and you couldn’t stay home and care for the kids?” “we’d get a babysitter.”

fali let out a loud laugh, leaning his head down and kissing her square on the lips. “maybe eywa made a good decision.”

[fisherrprince]

“Ch’ari. What are you doing.”

The aetheric silhouette that is the Warrior of Light freezes in the middle of hobbling across the hallway. “I am… getting… a drink?” He says. 

“Oh?” Y’shtola raises an eyebrow. 

His aether flickers. The shape inches forward slowly, as if she were a dinosaur and couldn’t see him if he moved really slow. “I am… getting a very specific drink. From… Othard.”

“Are you now.” 

“…You are getting me a very specific drink from Othard?” Ch’ari tries. 

Y’shtola reaches behind her for her staff, and Ch’ari turns and scuttles as fast as his body will take him back into his room where he’s supposed to be. 

-

Alisaie scowls. “I am bored.”

“No kidding,” Ch’ari whines. “When are we allowed to leave?!”

“I am allowed to leave tomorrow. You will be staying here until you have resolved not to be a fool and throw your life away for a victory lap,” Alisaie snaps, and then her expression turns down. “Or at least until you can walk again.”

“Seems hypocritical to me. They’re letting you out early.”

“I’m almost healed!”

“By the loosest definition.”

“It wasn’t even a wound, Ari.”

“Hm.”

“Look—“ Alisaie says, pride in being Not Bedridden stoked by his dismissals, and pushes her way out of her bed at Dawn’s Respite to march over to Ch’ari’s bed, indignant. And still, notably, a bit shaky, after concentrated lightning magic left her too hurt to stand. Ch’ari still thinks they’re all stupid, every Scion, right back at them, for not tending to their own injuries well enough to heal themselves before pouring almost the entire Ragnarok’s worth of aether into him. Stupid, dumb, idiots. They’d already saved the universe at that point. We don’t need eight incapacitated scions when we could have had just the one. 

“You look like a baby amaro,” Ch’ari says, instead of voicing any of those thoughts. “Like a newborn foal. Damnation, looks like you’ll have to stay here and keep me company.”

Alisaie flicks him — gently, even though he’s not even got a head wound. “Ari. I promise we’re not going anywhere. And you know if you asked him to, Alphinaud would stay with you for days reading fantasy novels or textbooks at you for entertainment.”

His ears droop. “I know. But he needs to sleep.”

“And so do you.”

“And so do I,” Ch’ari grumbles in concession. “I am just not used to not moving. I want to kill something.”

Alisaie coughs out a startled laugh, and Ch’ari grins. “Gods, as do I, but we have our orders! Two weeks. No travel, no fights.”

“Sneak a coblin in here when you get out of this joint and I’ll pay for your sweets for a month.”

“Not a chance.”

-

“Not that I doubt your s-sSS-killed hands, Krile, I would never. But do bandages need changing thisoften?”

“In this specific case, yes,” Krile says, clearly not willing to entertain him while he chatters distractingly. “Might I remind you you were falling apart before we got to you with healing magics, and therefore you will be suffering the consequences for as long as a normal wound takes to heal naturally.”

“Peachy,” Ch’ari groans. He should have been better at avoiding that dumb voidsent Zenos summoned, but it always hid right out of his line of sight until it pounced. Clearly, a cheater, even if its master wouldn’t do a thing like that. Nah, he’d challenge him head-on, evening the playing ground until it was just strength against strength, no tricks, no unfair advantage. Pure, untouched adrenaline, bloodlust, the hunger for feeling alive. 

… Ch’ari will not miss him. But he will think of their encounters as long as it takes him to find something like it, if he ever does. Which is exactly what the prince wanted, drat. He should have taken Zenos to the Gold Saucer. Maybe he’d get really into chocobo racing instead of death matches. 

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by a sharp tug in his ribs. “Ow!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Krile says, already casting a light soothing glow over the sticky mess there. Ch’ari buries his head further into the pillow with a groan. 

The door creaks. “My, someone sounds grumpy they’re being tended to,” comes a voice, and Tataru trots in with a small box in her hands. Ch’ari’s ears perk up. 

“Am not grumpy, I’m injured. What’s that?”

“Medicine,” Tataru says bluntly, and then gets a sly grin. “And a handful of pastry fish, fresh from the oven.”

“Tataru you’re my favorite. Have I ever told you you’re my favorite? You are. Hands down,” Ch’ari says, already sniffing the air to catch the smell, his tail whacking the edge of the bed. “I don’t even care that it’s bribery to get me to drink that foul tincture, I love you.”

Tataru laughs, bright and open, and even Krile huffs a bit in amusement. 

-

Alphinaud is asleep when he wanders into the main rooms, and Ch’ari considers dropping something onto the table to wake him up, but decides against it. He’s not all that sure how mana works — or mana overexertion, or… well, Lyse called it a chakra, but Ari isn’t a monk, and he’s not sure what straining or breaking one of them entails. He just knows the kid needs to sleep a bunch to get his aether back, and Ari shouldn’t be startling him so bad he breaks something again. If that’s how that works. He’d rather not risk it. 

Instead, he wanders over to Estinien, who is brooding in his Dragoon Corner. Also seemingly asleep until one eye cracks open, trained on his approach. 

“Dragoon,” Ch’ari says.

“…Cat,” Estinien replies in greeting. Ari snorts, the joke he made about having nine lives clearly amusing or at least annoying the Elezen to this day. 

“Guarding your nest, are we? I didn’t think we’d see you stick around this long.”

Estinien grunts. “Aye. Under normal circumstances I’d rather be off by now. But as long as…” he frowns. It’s always difficult for him to differentiate between draconic instincts and his own, and then subsequently translate them into human words, something he and Ch’ari have only spoken of briefly when Nidhogg’s lingering presence wanted to clash with what was left of Hraesvelgr in Ch’ari’s body. Simultaneously feral and overtly made of higher thought, the presence of the dragon is as long-lived as the beasts themselves. “As long as my ward is in need of protection, I will stay,” he settles on. And then his expression squishes, pained. “And… the pink one threatened me if I were to leave without a clean bill of health.”

Ch’ari laughs, then covers his mouth quickly to muffle it. “Ah, the jailer. No escaping that.” 

“Indeed.”

-

“Raha, you need any help with anything?”

G’raha looks up from his books, surprised. The Warrior is standing over his shoulder, swath in bandages and a simple shirt and slacks, his tail swishing. “Do I need any help with anything?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no, I don’t think so… resigned to being monitored as we are, I have no new tasks which require my attention, and so…”

“Let me rephrase,” Ch’ari interrupts. “Please do you need help with anything.”

G’raha blinks. And then splits into a smile, ears giving a quick one-two wiggle. “My friend, I am quite sure we can find something to do. Something very calm and stressless, but something nonetheless. What is your opinion on magic circles?”

[galeslovesickcleric24]

Gods Don't Heal Broken Hearts

A/N: Hello again! I know I've already started a multi-part fic. But this one is so incredibly short. Please enjoy! Expect part 2 to How to Save a Life soon!

Click here to read on AO3!

!!! PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS WORK WILL CONTAIN SPOLIERS TO BALDUR'S GATE 3. ESPECIALLY THE END OF THE GAME. PLEASE DO NOT READ AHEAD UNLESS YOU WISH TO BE SPOILED OR YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF THE GAME !!!

Part I of III: Crown of Corruption

Words: 1,789

The long, tiring battle between being and brain was fought and fought well. Rosemary and all of her gathered allies beaten, bruised and bloodied; surrounded by rivers of blood and piles of corpses, both illithid and humanoid alike. The cleric and her campmates find themselves stood on the docks of Baldur’s Gate, relief and exhaustion all blurring into one emotion.

The sun hangs low in the sky, plunging the city in beautiful shades of oranges and yellows with a soft cacophony of waves lapping against the shore filling their ears. The scent of salt strong in the air, wafting through each of their nostrils and delighting their senses with much needed refreshment. 

“Take a moment,” Wyll begins, “Savour our victory. Long may the coastwinds carry our names,” he smiles.

“I…can’t feel the tadpole… They must have all died with the brain - that means we can’t turn into mind flayers!” Shadowheart beams.

While everyone celebrates with hugs and cheers, Gale’s mind and his person wanders to the edge of the docks, thoughtfulness clouding his features. “The crown. It’s somewhere in the Chionthar.”

“Where it shall remain!” Rosemary grins, “At least for a moment. We can think about returning it later. Let’s celebrate the now! Our victory.”

Gale continues his thoughts, disregarding his lover’s enthusiasm, “If I salvage the stones, I could retrieve it. Perhaps even wield it,” a power-hungry grin turns his lips with delight as he continues to entertain the thought. The cleric’s face falls, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest as he remains on this train, “With the crown in my hands, I would be unstoppable.” 

The wizard begins to pace, becoming more and more thoughtful. Rosemary reaches out to him, gently grasping his hand; “Gale, my darling, we don’t need the crown. We have enough as it is. We are alive, are we not? Isn’t that satiable?”

“I’m not sure you quite understand, flower. I would be more than the greatest wizard who ever lived,” he turns to face her, excitement dancing in his irises, “I would be a god.”

“Is that truly what you want? I-I thought we talked about this,” the elf reaches to stroke her love’s cheek, “The plan is still to return the crown to Mystra, yes?”

“I’m not so sure. I believe I owe it to myself to see where destiny leads.” 

“What…?” The cleric’s heart drops right into the deepest pit of her stomach, her brain now swimming with the most anxious of thoughts. “Gale, you cannot be serious.”

“I have never been more serious. The opportunity has practically thrust itself into my hands, my love. I’d be a fool to miss out on such a thing. Don’t you agree?” 

“No. No, I can’t say that I do. Gale, we had a deal. We were to hand the crown to Mystra and go about our lives. Living the fullest life we can with that wretched orb banished from your chest,” she takes the wizard’s hands in her own, “We can still do things properly, love. Return to Waterdeep, take our time, make up for that we have lost. It isn’t too late.” She begs, eyes pleading and glassy. The wizard thinks on her words for a moment, letting them sink in. The next moment, they are dismissed; his mind jumping immediately back to the crown and its power.

“For you. I-...I can’t disregard the crown. Simply forget about it,” Gale gently slips his hands out of hers, returning to the edge of the dock, “I would live a life of regret if I did.”

His chest begins to glow an sorcerous lilac, a hand reaching out to the murky waters ahead. The ground begins to shake, stone beginning to crack in the distance as the crown ascends from the water. The bony structure is encased in the same arcane cage as Gale’s chest, floating its way into the wizard’s beckoning hands. 

Rosemary stands in awe of the man in front of her, the man she thought she knew so very well. The same man that would tell her how she puts the stars to shame, how he forgets their goddess by simply being near her, that she has given him a whole new meaning to living. That man disappears right in front of her eyes as she watches the promise of power engulf him and chain him in its iron grasp. The thought is enough to move her to tears, her feet propelling her to close the gap between them; words escaping her lips faster than she can conjure them in her mind.

“Don’t you dare!” She shrieks “Gale, we had an agreement!”

Gale turns to Rosemary, desperation and determination clouding his brown irises: “This is my chance! I have been patient enough. Don’t you want this for me?” He attempts to reason. 

“No! No, I do not! I keep telling you! What I want is you! I don’t need a god! I can’t be with a god! I need you! The real you! I don’t need all the magic. You are more than enough.” She pleads, wandering over and offering out her hand for the crown “Give it to me, Gale. We can hand it over to Mystra and go back to Waterdeep, live a happy and full life. Together.”

“Why not live forever? Rosemary, I could be so much more to you! We wouldn’t need anything else. You wouldn’t need anything else. We’d be the most powerful beings in the universe.”

“If you become a god, I cannot have you like I have you now. I cannot hold you, I cannot kiss you, I cannot enjoy reading books curled up by the hearth of the fire with you in your tower.. You do not listen to me! I don’t need more! I don’t! No more than I already have!  Do you not understand what you are doing? To me? To your poor mother? To Tara?”

“They would want what is best for me. And I believe that this is the best possible outcome.”

“I have never met anyone so foolish. Godhood is the best outcome? How selfish.” Rosemary spits, unadulterated rage beginning to boil her blood, “I clearly overestimated your intelligence.” Tears brim his lover’s eyes, a river threatening to burst the banks of her tear ducts as she exhales a hopeless sigh. “You do this, you lose me. I won’t have anything to do with you. And I certainly will not be your fucking chosen. I know better than to do so. Because I know where they all end up.”

“Rosemary-“ Gale begins, but she cuts him right off.

“I mean it. I really do. You ascend to the heavens and you will never fucking see me again.”

“You think so little of me! Do you really think I’d leave you and never see you again? I will always come back for you. You can be a goddess too, Rosie. You can rule at my side. We can be together for the rest of eternity. Is that not what you want too? Why do you fight me on this?” He questions, crown still clutched in his fists. 

“Because I cannot stand to lose you! How can you possibly still want to go through with this?! Is everything we’ve been through not enough for you?!” The elf’s tears start to roll down her cheeks as she fights sobs, swallowing them down thickly.

“I-…” the wizard has run out of things to say. It’s rare he finds himself in such a position. But seeing his love in the state she’s in makes time stop, allows chills to run so coolly down his spine, and fills his stomach with utmost regret. His chest tightens, guilt painting his face an ugly shade of grey. “Of course it is.”

“But it isn’t?! Is it?! Because you’re still clutching the wretched thing like your favourite toy!” Rosemary yells, stifling a hearty cry, “I-I’m tired of fighting you on this! I thought we made a promise! We had plans, Gale! How come it is so easy to throw away something that was once so precious to you?”

“It is right here in my hands! I’d be a fool to deny such a thing. Such power! Such an opportunity! I’m not doing it for me, I’m doing it for us. For both of us.”

“I want no part in this. In this sick revenge plan. Where does it end?”

“Right here! But only if you allow me to!” He begs.

The cleric ponders for a short moment, checking off a list of pros and cons in her mind, continuing to shatter her heart more than it already has. Wordlessly, she shakes her head, hastily wiping away her tears. “Fine. If it’s what you want. I have warned you. I can do nothing more. But I won’t stand around to watch the man I loved become a husk of the great man I once knew him to be”  Rosemary leaves the wizard with a final, loving kiss; savouring every last moment she has to feel him, to touch him, to remember him as he is in the present. 

Gale drops the crown at their feet, holding her as close as he can possibly have her; bodies pressed desperately against one another. His heart wrenches, its strings taut with guilt and upset.

Wiping away a trickle of blood from his cheek, Rosemary  pulls away, cupping his cheeks in her palms, taking in every last detail of his face. His eyes that once looked upon her so fondly, the lips she would kill to kiss all day if she were permitted, the beard that tickled her neck every time he would pepper her body in worshipping kisses. With the heaviest of hearts, she brings their foreheads together, placing a gentle hand to rest over the tattoo on his chest before bending to pick up the crown and placing it into his hands. “Goodbye, Gale. I hope you enjoy the new life you’ll build. Say hello to Mystra for me. You deserve each other.” Her words sting, cut right through Gale like a knife through butter as she watches her walk away. 

His heart weighs his chest down, regret filling every crevice of his being as he stomachs the realisation of the impact of his actions on the woman he loves most, how much he has hurt her, how he has broken her. The thoughts are fleeted as he remembers the very item in his hands; the very thing that would seal his destiny and would make him one of the most powerful beings to ever exist. 

More than a mere wizard would he be. 

He would ascend to godhood, where he rightfully belongs; rightly or wrongly.

[receival]

castlevania, season 1 starters.

the following is a collection of starter sentences from the netflix original, castlevania.

you bang on my front door because you want to daub chicken blood on peasants.

don’t mistake me for a witch. everybody out there already does that.

i believe in science, but … i need to know more.

what have you to trade for my knowledge, (name)?

perhaps i could help you relearn something manners.

i cross the threshold of your home, and you haven’t offered me a drink or even to take my coat.

i want to heal people. i want to learn.

you are definitely different to most humans i have met in recent times.

maybe i can teach you to like people again. or, at least tolerate them. or … stop putting them on sticks.

they won’t be superstitious if they learn how the world really works.

and it had to come to this?

don’t hurt them! they don’t understand!

perhaps i’ll say a prayer for her. a small one.

they don’t know what they’re doing!

be better than them. please!

are you (name)? she talked about you.

it’s not right what happened.

she’ll be dead by now.

ah, there. quite a show.

off to heaven with him, eh?

what have you done?

you are not real.

you took that which i love, so i will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been.

what do you mean, no?

that woman was the only reason on earth for me to tolerate human life.

there are no innocents! not anymore!

i won’t let you do it.

you had your chance.

kill everything you see. kill them all.

what’s that on your chest?

just one more drink and then i’ll leave, alright?

listen, just forget it. i’ll just go.

this is all your fault.

i don’t know what you’re talking about.

i think you know exactly whose fault that is.

i’m leaving, okay? i’m leaving.

confess, and i’ll make it quick.

i used to fight fucking vampires.

would you please leave my testicles alone?

i’m (first name) fucking (last name), and i’ve never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast.

i hope you all bleed out.

no one’s getting in, and no one’s getting out.

i warned you. you can’t say i didn’t warn you.

are you talking back to me?

so, now i’m stupid?

why don’t you go and get that looked at?

look, i don’t like priests at the best of times. i mean, i really, really don’t like priests.

if you leave now, we’ll say no more about it.

last warning. this will get nasty.

seriously? i’m out of practice, but i’m stone - cold sober.

someone will get hurt.

the violence wasn’t necessary. but … it is appreciated.

thank you for your kindness, and i think … your restraint.

please, come inside.

(name), we were worried about you.

i’m a little out of practice.

they’re both still alive.

i’d prefer something to drink.

maybe you can just tell me why you’re here.

but you didn’t answer my question.

you know we can’t turn away from those in need.

dying is not absolute.

you feel no compassion?

there’s always a choice.

don’t be crazy. leave now.

if i go and recover your kids body, will you please leave?

they’re going to come for you soon.

it’s not the dying that frightens me. it’s living without ever having done my best.

i don’t care.

anybody home?

i can hear you.

i’m armed, and a lot less happy than you are … so you want to stay well out of my way.

reflexes like a cat.

god shits in my dinner once again.

did you — did you climb on me?

yeah, yeah. come on. time to go home.

who are you?

your messiah isn’t down there.

what makes you so sure?

i don’t know what’s down there, but it’s not a messiah.

i cannot begin to repay what i owe you.

i could pee in a bucket and tell him it’s beer.

i could slip and take your eye out.

i don’t think i’m allowed in churches.

look, if i enter the church and i catch fire or something, it’s your fault.

you could undo everything by your very presence.

my god. you really believe it, don’t you?

by the way, you’re all going to die.

i don’t think we can leave these people, not in their time of need.

these people believe you’re causing their time of need!

you fought your battle and you decided you lost.

if we truly are the sort of people who will kill one another at the behest of a madman’s fantasies, then perhaps it is right and proper that things from hell should rise up and wipe us out.

you should leave now.

i swear it just moved.

so you’re going to die for nothing? for people you don’t know?

dying has never frightened me.

the sun … is already down.

you cannot enter the house of god.

god is not here.

your god’s love is not unconditional. he does not love us, and he does not love you.

this is all your fault, isn’t it?

no wonder he has abandoned you.

i serve no demon and i do no evil.

you never asked.

i didn’t ask you to fight for me. i fight for myself.

oh, for god’s sake.

i didn’t do that.

why are you here?

i fell down a hole.

that’s fact. there’s no ‘belief’ involved.

i’ll call you anything you like if you’re gonna show me your teeth.

say what you mean.

what i think … is i’m going to have to kill you.

i don’t like your tone, (name).

my defenses were not for you.

i asked you a question — do you care.

am i going to have to kill you?

you’ve got nothing but insults, have you?

stone the fuck up.

please. this isn’t a bar fight. have some class.

do you have a god to put a last prayer to, (name)?

i can still rip your throat out.

killing you was the point.

we are all, in the end, slaves to our families wishes.

[breakerrhexis]

02. THE LIGHT IN DARK PLACES ❤︎‬

Psst... I'm on Ao3 if you're interested @breakerrhexis

“Karlach, dear, he’s passed out. You can stop screaming now.”

The scream fizzled out in Karlach’s throat. “Oh.” Her war ax dropped to her side and a breathy laugh left her mouth. "Hells that was scary!"

“Well, someone get him!” Shadowheart hissed.

Astarion grimaced, shimming into his trousers. “Yeah, no, darling. Do not look at me.”

Placed in the cleric’s tent, you were lowered like a delicate princess onto pillows and blankets. The cleric wrinkled her nose. “Those are my favorite…” she muttered to herself, watching your dirty shoes touch them.

Karlach hadn’t broken a single sweat carrying the fully grown man back to camp. It was like lifting a sack of potatoes - even that comparison didn’t do her impressive strength any justice. She could’ve started doing some bicep curl-ups with your body... which she did before Shadowheart scolded her - but Shadowheart was most definetly eyeing the tiefling's muscles.

You were deathly still due to the spell which was unsightly to them. You were usually the one slitting throats and cutting off heads, standing over your enemies corspes grinning in the aftermath of slaughter. How peaceful you looked, even drenched in blood.

“What was all that about?” Karlach muttered, sitting down beside your head.

“Well, he's clearly lost it!" Astarion fumed, furious at the notion of being caught so off-guard and concerned.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It looked like he’d seen a spectator!”

Shadowheart sighed. “We’ll ask him when he wakes. No point in wondering what happened now.”

Wyll, Halsin and Lae’zel approached to ask what happened but Shadowheart raised a hand and shook her head. Space, please.

You assumed you’d be dreaming once unconscious, elusive to the details of the ongoing world, but you weren’t dreaming or completely unconscious for that matter. You fleeted between distant memories, the crackle of fire and soft voices.

Slowly, the spell thawed out. When everyone least expected it, even you, your scream wretched itself free from your throat and you flew up, battling the hands trying to soothe you.

“Hey! Hey! Soldier, it’s alright!” Karlach’s soft eyes did little to aid you. Her hands, warm and heavy, steadied your shoulders but you were scrambling back.

Again, it was Shadowheart that stopped you. She slapped you so hard your head almost spun off your shoulders and stars danced in your vision.

“Shadowheart, what the fuck!?” Karlach screamed. Astarion was giggling somewhere not far behind.

“What? He’s hysterical. A slap always works.”

“Doesn’t mean you go around slapping your friends!”

Astarion giggled. “Oh, no, please do. It’s positively funny.” He touched his chest with the delicate flick of his wrist. “Just not me though, of course.”

You weren’t hysterical anymore. Her slap worked. The sting of it snapped you out of your bubbling panic before it overspilled and drenched your vicinity in insanity.

“Soldier?” Karlach asked, her eyes wide and apprehensive.

Your hand rubbed your cheek. "Ow..."

"Look what you've done!" Karlach fussed, grasping your chin in her hand. She yanked your face toward Shadowheart, almost tearing your spine out in the process. She shook your head like a maraca. "Look!"

"You're not helping him by shaking him like a bag of bones, Karlach!"

The tiefling releaed your chin with a gasp. "I'm so sorry! Oh, hells! Are you o-"

Shadowheart pushed her aside. She crouched down to your eye-level and studied your face. Karlach peered curiously over her shoulder. "Are you okay?" the cleric asked. "Do you need healing?"

You blinked at her, hand frozen on your cheek.

"Oh, great. You broke him," Astarion mused. "Great job, Shadowheart."

"Shut up or I'll incinerate your pale ass."

"Ugh, how gauche. There's no fun to fire, darling."

Karlach shushed the older man and Astarion huffed. Shadowheart pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. "No fever..." She checked your body for wounds. She ran her hands up and over your arms, your legs, and your stomach.

Naturally after the mental fuck of falling into a video game without warning, you were quiet - not only drowning in the unbelievable reality of your situation but also watching Shadowheart. The cleric's hair wasn't in her usual up-do. Her black hair fell in long waves over her shoulder, no Shar circlet or hair ornaments in sight. Her concerned hazel eyes searched your face, asking for information you weren't so willingly to give. For a way to help you. There was a motherly and comforting demeanor about her, one that brought a wave of tears to your eyes.

"Adin?" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh no..." Karlach whispered. "He's crying. He's fucking crying. Adin is crying. That's it. This is bad. Gale!"

"Darling, I don't think a wizard can help with this."

You were full on sobbing. A migraine threatened to split your head open. You were running on a single hour of sleep. Worst of all, you weren't in your bed next to your dog, reading a book under the comfort of your covers. You were in a land dead set on devoring you whole. And you felt something uncomfortable, something unfamiliar, whispering in your ear. Something that didn't belong to you, much like the body you inhabited.

Several feet stomped towards you. "What's wrong? What?"

"Adin..." Wyll said. His face appeared next to Shadowheart. "Hey man, it's okay. Just breathe... come on. Just like that." You couldn't see them well through the tears. Snot dripped down your nose, not letting you breath. You saw the digust on Astarion's face and you cried harder.

"We would've slit in his throat in my créche." Shadowheart glared at the githyanki. "I'll slit your throat. I swear, I will."

They must've been thinking there was something wrong with Adin as you cried, your tears mixing with the blood on your face. Crimson droplets stained your white shirt.

If only they knew...

━━━━━✁┈┈┈┈┈┈

Author's Note: I'm sorry this scene is so long! Your panic is reasonable and important! Plus it's kind of fun. Will most definetly go back and edit this though. It's a bit rough since I just started the draft, but I'm content with it. Like I said, this story is cathartic and relaxing to me - maybe because I was the blubbering fool for the past few days too :,)

━☆・*。

　　・゜

　 °。+ * 。

　　　　　.・゜

　　　　　゜｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ。

　　　　　　ﾟ。　 　｡ﾟ

　　　　　　　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[sanscat0414]

Love Hurts A, Love Acquired

Hawks x Reader

Scenario: You have a crush on Hawks but he loves another or so it seems. One day you learned that you have the Hanakai disease. Will you be saved?

Note:

Y/N = your name

Part 1

Part 2

Hawks rushed to the hospital front and got your room number and dashed to your room.

“Y/n!” He said as he rushed to your side and held your hand.

You open your eyes to see him.

“You’re here….”

Your voice was raspy, you were as pale as a ghost form all the blood you lost. You hated the fact that he had to see you like that.

“Mirko told me about what’s happening to you. Why did—“ he stop himself form questioning you, he had a to endure your survival first “Please take the surgery, feather. It’s not worth dying for someone who doesn’t even know how much they’re missing out.”

You shook your head no.

“The tell me who is it that you love so much that your willing to die for them? I don’t want to loose you to this. Please feather. I promise I’ll get them here fast and you can confess and—“

You stopped him by gently lifting your hand to his face. You smiled and said “Okay.”

“So who.”

“I love, ” Cue dramatic pause mostly because your out of breathe “you, Keigo. I always have…. If I loose those memories and feelings for you it be losing a large chunk of my life…. I can’t risk that because that’s how much I love…. you.”

Hawks stared at you for a moment thinking back to the two of you. The times you help him and the times he help you. He thought that’s just what friends did now, the more he thought about it the more he realized just how much he actually love you. You were a bit nervous for a while form his intense staring, knowing he’s probably in deep thought. You couldn’t help but think he might wanted to reject you and your okay with that knowing at least you tried.

“Keigo, I’m perfectly fine if you——“ You were interrupted by Hawks hand sushing you following by a gentle kiss from him.

“I wish I had realized sooner, so I could have save you from all that pain. “ Hawks said once he moved away from you.

You about to say something before you started coughing again. Hawks slightly panic and rushed to get a doctor. Once a doctor was here they rushed Hawks out and tended to you. Hawks was nervous ‘maybe it didn’t work? Maybe I didn’t love them enough maybe I’m confusing romantic love for platonic loves? No that’s not it. Maybe I was too late…..’ A million thoughts ran through his head, hoping and praying that you be okay.

Once the doctor came out Hawks bombarded the doctor with a bunch of questions. “… is she okay?!”

“Uh. Your her emergency contact right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, it seems that she’s getting better. Hanakai is a bit finicky when it comes to healing after the confession. Some heal instantly some take a bit of time.. so we still need to do a few tests to confirm this. She’s fine right now buts she fell asleep not long after she stopped coughing up flowers. Well to the test tomorrow and compare them form the fromer test and see if there’s any improvement.”

Hawks have a small sigh of relief. You’re not out of the woods yet and he promised to comeback tomorrow to see if you felt any better. The next day Hawks went straight to the hospital after work. When you saw him you couldn’t help but blush thinking about yesterday’s kiss and confession.

“So how are you?” Hawks asked worriedly.

“I’m dying.” You said with a straight face

He looked modified thinking he might have not lived you enough to save you.

You not being able to hold it and laughed abit.” Sorry sorry that was in bad taste, the doctor said it will go away after awhile. Apparently I’m just those unfortunate enough to get our feelings reciprocated and still need to wait it out instead of having love magically fix us.”

He immediately went in for a hug, gently of course. He then flicked your head.

“Ow what was that for?!”

“For scaring the sh*t out of me. And this is for me being too much of a doofus to not realize how much I love you.” He said giving you a kiss on the lips.

“Here I thought you like Mirko.”

“Sure she a good woman but I only love you. It just took longer for me to realize that.”

“You always talked about her and…”

“Feather~ I just wanted to share some good time I had with her because I thought those stories were funny. Besides it being a hundred times better if you were there with us you know.”

“I guess I should thank her for spilling the beans.” You said feeling a bit sillly after everything.

For the next few weeks you stayed with Hawks after being cleared to leave. He helped you during your recovery. Showering you with love and affection thinking it might help speed up your recovery. Helping you with day to day life as there was a few things that took longer to heal like how anemic you became from all the blood loss. He complained how much he missed you and how he wanted nothing more than to be with you 24/7. It was nice living with him. Hawks didn’t let you go to work even when you felt like you were feeling a lot better.

“Hey Feather! No working until your fully recovered. I don’t want you getting infections or something.”

Once you finally got better, Hawks asked you to move in with him properly. It wasn’t that big of a difference form how you guys were before all of this ordeal but you loved all the New Romantic stuff that Hawks would do like trying to make dinner for you or getting you gifts. Naturally you did the same. You couldn’t help but think how luck you are to have him.

Here’s to new relationship you hope to last for years to come.

“I love you Kei.”

“I love you more My sweet Angel.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 18 - Uncertainty

This fic was inspired by this wonderful headcanon from @get0suguru

“Trust fall!” Satoru yells, hurling himself at Shoko only to stop floating at the exact place where she stands. Or well, stood, because she neatly side-stepped him and then watches uncaringly how he falls on his ass.

It doesn’t hurt because Infinity stops him from really hitting the ground, but his ego does take a bruise.

“Ow, Shoko, how can you be so mean to me?” he whines out, getting up and dusting himself off as if he needs it, but Shoko only regards him with slight annoyance.

“Do you do that with everyone?” she wants to know and Satoru honestly hadn’t thought about it.

It’s just—he was bored just a moment ago and Shoko walked past, and it had seemed like a good idea. He needs to use his new floating abilities for something, right?

And it might actually be fun to see how everyone else will react, though he hopes no one is as mean to him as Shoko just was.

“Yes,” Satoru confidently says even though he has yet to jump at anyone else like that and Shoko narrows her eyes at him.

“I am not going to heal you, should anything happen, so don’t even think about coming to me,” she informs him and Satoru doesn’t doubt that for a second.

He also doesn’t remind her that he doesn’t need her healing anymore.

“And the others?”

“If you hurt any of the others with these stupid shenanigans of yours I expect you to beg.” There’s a pleased look to her face and Satoru presses his lips together.

“Fine,” he still agrees because what else is he supposed to do and Shoko smiles at him like she knows it, too.

But not even the threat of having to beg her for some healing is going to stop him now that she planted the idea in his head and he gives her a blinding smile.

“I’ll get you one day, too, just you wait,” Satoru confidently tells her and Shoko crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Dream on, oh honoured one.” It’s said in a mocking voice and sometimes Satoru wishes he would have never mentioned this to her and Suguru, because the teasing has been endless.

Shoko simply walks off after saying that, leaving Satoru behind and for a brief moment he thinks about trying it again, even though he knows his chances are about the same for her catching him.

No, he’ll have to catch her off guard one day, and he vows that he will do it, too.

~*~*~

Things with Nanami go about as well as expected. He regards him just like Shoko had when Satoru falls to his ass after yelling “Trust fall” and dropping himself in reach of Nanami.

It’s about what Satoru had expected, if he’s being honest.

Nanami is not his biggest fan, and he keeps reminding Satoru at every possible moment that his Infinity is keeping him safe from everything. It makes Satoru wonder, sometimes, if Nanami would simply assume the same during a fight and Satoru has to admit that it makes something uneasy curl in his stomach.

He might have automated Infinity, but it’s not fool proof yet and one of these days he’s going to get his ass handed to him. The only question is if Nanami would simply watch it happen or not.

Satoru shakes his head at those thoughts, because of course Nanami wouldn’t simply let it happen, not once he notices what’s going on, but the thought is still hard to shake.

It makes Satoru refrain from immediately trying Haibara next, because Nanami huffing out an amused laugh as Satoru crashed to the ground was certainly a blow to the ego.

Still, Haibara has to suffer through the same eventually, and Haibara—bless his heart—actually attempts to catch him.

He stumbles over his own feet in the end, and he isn’t quite strong enough to take the entirety of Satoru’s weight, but at least an attempt was made.

“Hey, you okay?” Haibara wants to know once Satoru’s feet are safely back on the ground and Satoru grins at him.

“Trust fall,” he belatedly tells him because he might have forgotten to mention that, and Haibara’s concern warms his heart.

“Oh. Well, I guess I failed, right? Didn’t quite catch you there,” Haibara says with an embarrassed laugh and Satoru grins at him.

“Actually, you get full marks, on behalf of the others failing,” he informs him brightly but Haibara frowns at him.

“Geto let you fall? That doesn’t sound right,” Haibara mutters and now it’s Satoru’s turn to let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Haha, yeah, no, I haven’t gotten to him yet. But Shoko and Nanami let me fall, which is all kinds of rude, if you ask me.”

“Geto won’t,” Haibara says, clearly completely convinced and Satoru gives him his best bright grin.

“Yeah, he probably won’t,” he agrees, even though he’s not quite sure about that.

“Anyway, was there anything you need, or was this all?” Haibara asks and Satoru pats his shoulder.

“That’s all, thanks for trying,” Satoru honestly says, and he is grateful that Haibara did try.

Didn’t quite succeed but the intent clearly was there, which can’t be said for Shoko and Nanami.

“You’re welcome,” Haibara calls out and jogs off, leaving Satoru to his own thoughts.

He’s not insecure, not quite, but there are certain things that make him uncertain. And one uncertainty is if Suguru really would catch him.

Satoru thinks he might—hopes so, really—but he can’t be sure about that unless he tries and that’s what’s stopping him from trying.

If Suguru lets him fall flat on his ass—even though Infinity will protect him from getting hurt—Satoru is not sure if he’ll ever make it back to his feet.

Well, there’s no rush in trying it out with Suguru, Satoru muses, and if he just ends up never doing it with him, who will be able to tell, right?

~*~*~

“I heard you’ve been doing a trust fall exorcise with the others,” Suguru off-handedly mentions one day and Satoru freezes.

“Now who would have possibly said something like that?” he eventually laughs out, but he knows that it took him too long because Suguru looks strangely at him.

“Haibara mentioned it the other day and Shoko and Nanami weren’t shy to share their stories then. How come you haven’t tried it with me?”

“Ah, Suguru, come on, is there really a reason to? We’re the strongest,” Satoru tries, slinging his arm around Suguru’s neck and hanging off his side.

“So? What does that have to do with anything?”

Satoru opens his mouth but no words actually come out and he almost loses his balance when Suguru suddenly stops walking.

“Satoru, you know I’d catch you, right?” he wants to know and he seems so serious that there really is nothing else for Satoru to do but nod.

“Of course I know,” he quietly gives back but the frown won’t vanish from Suguru’s face.

“No matter what, I’d always catch you, Satoru,” Suguru tells him and it sounds like the truth.

“We’ll see about that,” Satoru says with a cheeky grin, because it’s a big promise to make and now he’s actually even more afraid of trying it out because if Suguru doesn’t catch him then he will have lied to Satoru.

And that is not something Satoru is sure he could stand.

~*~*~

After that talk it becomes clear that Suguru is just waiting for Satoru to do the trust fall exorcise with him as well and he seems to worry more with every day that passes that Satoru doesn’t do it.

Satoru knows he’ll have to do it eventually, but he still needs to hype himself up for it, tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter if Suguru lets him fall flat on his ass, because it’s not as if that can hurt Satoru.

Well, Satoru’s body can’t be hurt like that. His heart is an entirely different matter.

Still, eventually he has to do it, and so he does.

He’s floating high up in the air when he spots Suguru walking along the path under him, clearly ready to return to his room and Satoru thinks it’s now or never.

“Trust fall,” he shouts, causing Suguru to snap his head up to him and Suguru is running before Satoru even really stopped floating.

He’s plummeting from a pretty significant height, so Satoru breaks the fall down himself until he’s about an arm length above Suguru and then he simply lets himself fall.

And Suguru catches him easily.

He doesn’t stumble and he doesn’t belatedly drop him to the floor, either; his arms are safe and secure around Satoru and he’s holding him tightly to his chest.

“Told you so,” Suguru tells him with a grin, slightly out of breath from the sprint he had to do to get to Satoru in time and Satoru finds himself beaming back at Suguru.

“That you did,” he agrees and mourns the loss of contact when Suguru sets him down on the ground.

“You good?” Suguru asks, clearly worried for a second anyway but Satoru nods.

“I’m perfect.”

And he is, knowing that Suguru keeps his promise.

~*~*~

It’s addicting. It’s addicting in a way Satoru wasn’t prepared for and he fully blames Suguru for it, because he does keep his promise.

He keeps catching Satoru no matter what.

Satoru has taken to let himself fall into Suguru’s arms multiple times a day, simply because he can and simply because Suguru is always ready and never seems to mind and it makes something bright and warm unfurl in Satoru’s chest.

One time, Suguru had been giving a report to Yaga, stacks of paper in his hands and they had gone flying everywhere when Suguru spotted Satoru in the air.

Yaga is still yelling at them for it, and Satoru would feel bad for getting Suguru into trouble with something stupid like that, but Suguru never seems to mind and he always tells Yaga that it was more important to catch Satoru at that moment. The papers could be picked up later, anyways.

That statement made Satoru’s heart beat like crazy and he might have gotten even more obnoxious since then.

“Trust fall!” Satoru laughs out, floating in the air a little ahead of Suguru and the moment he says it, Suguru starts running.

And it’s only then that Satoru sees that Suguru was holding his favourite mug in one hand, which is now flying through the air before it crashes to the ground and breaks just as Suguru brings his arms up to catch Satoru.

Just like he always does.

“Got you,” Suguru mutters, briefly pressing Satoru to his chest before he lets go of him again and Satoru feels horrible.

“I am so sorry,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on Suguru’s chest. “I didn’t mean to make you drop that.”

“Huh?” Suguru says and turns around to look at the destroyed mug. “Oh, that. Doesn’t matter, I still caught you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Satoru says and takes a step back. “You know that, right? There’s actually no real reason for you to always catch me.”

“What? Of course there is,” Suguru immediately gives back and flicks Satoru’s forehead. “I told you I would, so I’m doing it.”

“But—that was your favourite mug, which is now broken. I wouldn’t have broken if you had let me fall this one time,” Satoru mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Wouldn’t you?” Suguru seriously asks and Satoru’s head snaps up to look at him. “I think something might have broken if I had let you fall, and I’m not about to take that chance. It’s just a mug, Satoru, you can buy me a new one.”

Suguru’s words make Satoru blush something fierce, because he might be right. If Suguru had let him fall, Satoru’s heart might have broken on impact.

Still.

“I won’t do it again. And I’ll pay for a new mug, of course,” he tells Suguru who flicks his forehead again. “Hey, ouch,” Satoru complaints and rubs the spot even as Suguru leans forward to better look at him.

“Satoru, don’t be stupid. You can do it as much as you want, I’ll always catch you, no matter what I have to drop to do so.”

He seems completely serious as he says it, as if it’s not even a question for him that he’ll continue to be right there whenever Satoru falls and it’s too much to take for the moment, so Satoru turns his attention to the mug again.

It was a stupid gag gift he got Suguru; the words I’m the sexiest mother around printed on the mug, which Satoru thought kind of fitting, because Suguru is somewhat the mother hen of their group. The fact that warm liquid turns the print into I’m the sexiest motherfucker around is even more fitting and had sent Satoru into a laughing fit before he immediately bought it for Suguru.

He is the sexiest person around, after all. Not that Satoru is ever going to tell him that.

“You’ll still have to pick a new mug,” Satoru mutters, not daring to address what Suguru just said and Suguru rolls his eyes.

“That was my favourite mug because you bought it for me,” he tells him with a sigh and Satoru gapes at him.

“That was a stupid gag gift!”

“A stupid gag gift I happen to like because it came from you,” Suguru immediately shoots back and looks expectantly at Satoru. “So you’ll have to buy me a new one. But something with a more fitting text this time, maybe.”

“Oh yeah, and what would be more fitting than what was on that one?” Satoru asks, wondering what Suguru is on about and he knows he ran right into whatever trap Suguru set up when he smiles brightly at him.

“Maybe something along the lines of Best boyfriend,” he easily says and Satoru’s mouth drops open.

“I—” he doesn’t actually know what to say to that, doesn’t know how to deal with this at all and he wishes instead of floating he could phase right through the ground.

“Can’t be too hard to find something like that, right?” Suguru whispers, leaning close and brushing his lips against Satoru’s cheek.

“And what do I get?” Satoru finally manages to get out, his voice just a tad too high and his knees wobble dangerously when Suguru smiles at him.

“The same? I mean, you’d be my boyfriend then, too, right?”

“I sure would be,” Satoru mutters under his breath and makes a stupidly embarrassing noise when Suguru steals a kiss for himself.

“You sure are,” Suguru corrects him. “And as your boyfriend it’s my duty to always catch you, no matter what.”

“Well, as your boyfriend it’s my duty to not make you drop things you like,” Satoru shoots back and his feelings turn a little gooey when Suguru takes his hand in his.

“I haven’t dropped you,” he seriously says and Satoru fears the blush on his face might be permanent at this point.

“You—” he gets out before he thinks that kissing Suguru again might be the better route to take here.

“And I don’t intent to,” Suguru mutters against his lips when they part and really, there is nothing Satoru can do but to accept it.

“Fine. I’m counting on you, then,” he agrees, making Suguru smile again.

“Always,” he promises and Satoru is inclined to believe him.

It certainly doesn’t help that he now gets extra kisses every time Suguru catches him, though Satoru is careful to not make him drop his boyfriend mug. They have to match, after all.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I’m scrolling through Tumblr trynna catch up on all your wonderful asks since yesterday and I’m not up to date on your POW fic yet but so far it all realllyyy hurts and I’ve got my own idea or two to share Mommy based on what I’ve read here :

1.) Bucky enters the camp and Buck is still clinging to the no fraternizing rule like it’s his lifeline. Every night it seems Maureen sleeps closer to him but still in her own bunk and Buck tells himself that’s enough. Well it’s Bucky’s first night and he missed his friend and he can hear Buck shivering so he slides into Buck’s bunk and cuddles him and tells him where he can shove those rules. Cue Maureen entering and being very upset that Buck has allowed Bucky entry to his bunk when she’s been begging and it’s a load of childish back and forth as she then tries to force herself onto Buck’s other side.

2.) ida’s pregnancy. Before she manages to get rid of it, Bucky is the only one who can get her to acknowledge it and how in any other circumstance it wouldn’t be something she thought of getting rid of. Even if she escaped and returned to base, she wouldn’t get rid of it, she just can’t risk herself or the baby in the camp. And she can’t tell John about it because he’s worried enough and that’s her baby brother and it’s only now that Bucky’s in the camp that John is finally allowing himself a few hours of sleep. Because he trusts Bucky with Ida. Maybe they talk about how if they escaped Bucky would step up for the baby and do anything to make it easier for Ida. They can talk possible names or the reactions people would have and how they could create stories on how Bucky is the father (jokingly) and the story changes every time. Sometimes Ida says the baby can have no father too, except God. And those late nights in her bunk with Bucky are the only moments of weakness she allows herself with her baby.

Bucky centric ideas because if it isn’t obvious by now I love him but also he’s such a faithful, loyal friend, a leader, and still brings laughter and youth to the group so it fits.

Baby I love these and that first sentence took me out, this is what I’m going to enjoy most about writing him in this world despite a lack of “love interest” because he’s so deserving of exploration in all of it.

I’ve already screamed at you in private but I do feel like you’ve been in my drafts, haha, especially about the baby. Bucky makes her think of it that way which is both terribly hard and also a little healing, and you know it -those plans to run off into the German sunset with her and the baby haunt them both for the rest of their lives.

He meant it, he was gonna be there for them.

One day I may have to explore an Au of that, there’s so much to unpack with that between her own thoughts towards her child and his care and love of it and considering himself it’s father in all but biology and then their own dynamic that’s not romantic but neither is it lacking love. They could make it work in the Swedish countryside for years, stuck in a cabin and eating what Bucky catches from the ocean. 😭 -at least, those are the daydreams he tells her in their bunk.

Also, while it’s gonna make me cry my eyes out, this man is 100% going to bury this baby, premature and nearly shapeless though it is, he owes ida and himself and their dreams that, this little innocent, too. 😭

[electricbluebutterflies]

stolen moments for jessica and leto?

Choice-era, PG-ish, also on ao3.

He shouldn’t be doing this right now.

Objectively, slipping away to spend a few moments with his partner and their child is not the worst thing Leto could be doing right now, but… it also isn’t on-schedule, and a particular meeting will start late, and-

He is allowed to decide his priorities, he reminds himself. The calm of his domestic life – calm that will not last but is appreciated while it does – is the most important thing in the world. It’ll be fine.

He had asked for everything and received; he asks for so little now, tempted to knock on the door, tempted to give warning in case his presence is unwanted, in case-

Before he can, it opens, and what a perfect sight. His partner, tired as ever but at least upright, their son resting in her arms, this quiet moment of hope manifested and-

“Do you need something?” she breathes.

Every day more reasons to love her, Leto thinks, every day more-

“Just wanted to see you. Both of you.”

She steps back, allowing him into her spaces, this room that wasn’t used for almost a year beforehand but now she nests, now she creates her own world. He is no longer the most important person in her life, not since the birth, but close second is still close and-

“You do have other-“

“Don’t remind me.”

She gives him one of her sharp looks, the kind he’s learned to expect whenever he does decide to prioritize her, and maybe she’d be calmer if that happened more often but-

They both understand the circumstances. He is trying, he would say if he thought she’d hear him out, and it is never quite enough, and she forgives anyways. Something deep in this cold woman wants to be loved, and something in him has found a way through her ice and thorns, and-

“Do you need anything from me?” she asks again.

They had routines, once, and now they do not. There will be no more… it’s only been a month, he hasn’t asked for her since, he’s tried to be respectful of her cocoon and her healing and-

“What might I ask for?” he replies.

“What might you want?”

Impossible woman, skies forbid she ever have actual preferences of her own instead of just-

“May I hold you? Just you, for a moment?”

She steps back and carefully places their child in the cradle before returning to face him, and he knows her stance, her uncertainty mixed with cooperativeness mixed with-

“You may.”

He takes half a step closer and oh he has been so cautious these last few weeks, ever since her fragility was made clear – her stubbornness is what it is, and he loves her for it, and she worries him – and even this seems like it might be too far, even this-

Their bodies still fit perfectly, and perhaps more of her weight rests on him than usual, and she hides her face against his shoulder as she rarely does and-

“Does something worry you, my storm?”

“I will not be difficult,” she breathes. “I will not be…”

“That does not seem like-“

“It is as if my heart has been separated from my body and given its own life, and the fear of it, and-“

“Jess-“

“Do you not feel the same?”

It is different for him, he thinks; there are two manifestations, the other currently clinging to him and pretending she’s alright and-

“Completely. Does my presence not make that clear enough?”

“You could just be avoiding-“

“That too, but-“

She kisses him – the first time she’s done that in a month, since overwhelmed emotions in aftermath – and he has missed her in ways beyond words, the slight softness of her when she wants something and-

“You don’t owe me this,” he murmurs against her lips.

“And I will not offer more, but… it has been strange to sleep without you, my love.”

“If that was not what you wanted-“

“I will never speak badly of your respect for me, but… I do trust you. I have given you how many nights and you have never-“

He kisses the side of her face, aware what this means for her, aware that basic decency works too well on her, and it’s been a while since they’ve had one of these moments and-

“It is strange without you too.”

“I would allow it. You never wake me, and-“

He can’t recall ever being in her spaces for such purpose – she’d all but abandoned this room until she’d found use of it again, some petty justification about his bedroom having a better window or something equally frivolous and easier to admit than her deeper desires – but if that is what pleases her, if-

“You could have asked.”

“That is not who we are.”

He wants to linger, wants to keep this moment forever, wants a great many things and none of them are ideal now and-

“Will you be alright if I-“

“I will. I would not dare to assume I am-“

Even this is not enough, somehow, even this does not make clear-

“You are my heart. Both of you. Never forget that.”

She takes another kiss and then breaks the embrace, two steps back and biting her lip. “Go… whatever…”

“I do miss you knowing my schedule more than I do.”

“And I do appreciate you breaking it for me, but-“

“The door will be unlocked in the quiet of night?”

“I would hope you would come to me earlier, but yes.”

He will do better by them, he thinks, silent promise as he carefully shuts the door behind him and returns to a much less interesting afternoon. Nothing else matters. Nothing else will ever matter more.

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Why do you make me feel this way? - Chapter 5: Hope

Halsin's mind had been troubled by the Shadow Curse for years. Now that it was lifted and he'd saved Thaniel who could heal the lands, the archdruid felt relieved and his heart finally was lighter again. And he had Tav to thank for all of that.

The wood elf sent another grateful glance towards the bard who was playing fetch with Scratch and the owlbear cup. She had such a good heart, open for everyone, even creatures that were considered monsters by some folks. Tav was pure, like a source of water, that's why everyone felt drawn to her like moths to the light. Halsin closed his eyes with a sigh and held his palm above his heart.

Oak Father, preserve me, he thought. My heart doesn't stir lightly, but it immediately did for her. Please, let me bathe in a patch of her light for a while longer.

Halsin opened his eyes and smiled when he observed how Tav snuggled with the owlbear cup. Had it grown since they'd left the former Shadow-Cursed Lands? It seemed like it.

"Halsin? Can you help me with something?" the bard shouted in his direction.

"Of course, I'm always at your service," the addressed replied and made his way across the campsite.

Tav was still kneeling in the dirt, gently tugging the cub's feathers into place.

"Can you help me to convince our feathery friend that they need a name and that that's a fantastic idea?"

Halsin chuckled amused.

"Is that why you called me? To explain the relevance of name-giving to an owlbear cup?"

"Yes," nodded Tav, frowning slightly. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No," Halsin answered, futilely trying to keep his laughter in.

Tav pursed her lips and the owlbear cup said: "I don't need a name. I'm just me."

"I understand," Halsin replied and sat down next to it, "but names hold a lot of importance for us. To have a name means to have an identity. Most of us can't choose our own names because they're given to us at birth, but you, you have the honour to name yourself – or, at least, tell us which suggestion you like."

The owlbear cup stayed quiet for a second.

"Can I have a pretty name like Tav?" it asked then. "I want a name that sounds like the rustling of feathers and leaves."

Halsin hummed, furrowing his brows, and got lost in thoughts. Tav continued to caress the owlbear cup while they let the archdruid brood.

"What do you think of 'naïlo'? It means 'night breeze' in the Elven language."

The owlbear cup started hopping around excitedly.

"I like it. It sounds nice."

"It truly does," Tav agreed with a nod.

"Well, I guess it's settled then," Halsin said, scratching the owlbear cup's chin. "From now on, we call you Naïlo."

The creature chirped and hooted while running around the camp with Scratch.

"Ha! Scratch and Naïlo; what an unusual pair," the archdruid mused.

"And yet, they're so damn cute," Tav snickered.

They got up from the ground, brushing off dust from their knees. Then, Tav looked at Halsin with a warm smile.

"Thank you, this was really important to me."

The addressed bowed slightly.

"I help whenever you need me."

Tav beamed at him, then, she got up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. The archdruid almost forgot how to breathe.

"Thanks, Halsin, I owe you."

And with those words, Tav dashed off to tell everyone else the name of their owlbear cup. Her companions laughed and teased her for it. Halsin watched with amusement how Astarion started whispering the owlbear's name when he thought nobody was watching.

Halsin leaned against a tree and observed his friends. The Shadow Curse was lifted, Thaniel was saved, an owlbear cup was named, and for the first time in years, Halsin felt hope flicker in his heart. Maybe, nature wasn't doomed by humanity, maybe there was hope to save her beauty.

The archdruid closed his eyes and smiled, basking in the sunlight after weeks in the darkness.