#but I got mad and impulsively wanted to share my thoughts

[sugarstartitzzz]

CIGARETTE BURN; smut.

sugarstartitzzz

ROUGH.

Amidst the soft glow of candlelight, Mila and Matt sat at a cozy table in the corner of their favorite Italian restaurant, which was Mila’s because you were allowed the smoke there. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they shared stories and enjoyed their meals.

Mila glanced affectionately at Matt, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. But as the evening progressed, she noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor. His playful banter turned into thinly veiled jabs, each comment pushing her patience a little further. Matt would sometimes act out like this for no apparent reason and she never said anything, knowing she was too angry to be able to hold back from saying something she’d regret once she’d start. Her anger allowed her to do nothing but scream when Matt got like this, and most of the time, she did not want to.

What a dick, I thought to myself. As Matt’s words sliced through the air like a dagger, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger bubbling within me because of how hurt I was. His attempts at humor fell flat, each comment landing with the weight of an anvil and poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere around us. Despite my mounting frustration, I bit back my retorts in an attempt to remain calm and not act impulsively on my anger.

Eventually, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, letting the smoke fill my lungs. “You can’t go a day without smoking?” Matt asked in a harsh, monotone voice. I shut my eyes at those words and breathed out through my nose, taking the cigarette back up to my mouth, sucking in the smoke softly and blowing it out. I tongued my front teeth before pressing the freshly lit cigarette onto his hand.

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock as Matt flinched back roughly and hissed in pain, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled. I smirked sadistically at his reaction. Is it wrong to have enjoyed that? yeah. Is that fact gonna stop me from enjoying it? fuck.no.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Matt stated harshly, raising his angry voice before unexpectedly grabbing a hold on my wrist and dragging me away from everyone. Strings of curses continued to leave his mouth as he did so.

“Ow!” I exclaimed eventually as the pain of his tight grip got too much. He dragged me all the way out the restaurant and practically shoved me in the car. I didn’t say anything out of shock of his sudden actions, obviously I was expecting him to be mad but only verbally, at most to break up with me.

He pulled me into the house he shared with his brothers who we had left at the restaurant. Matt shut the door and without a warning or time to process anything he speaks demandingly, “get on your knees.”

“what?” I asked with surprise, scrunching up my face slightly.

The annoyance in his eyes were elevated by my question, a hard sigh through his nose left before he grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me down into the position he originally wanted me in. My knees fell weak with aching after they had roughly hit the floor.

Matt undid his belt in a fast manner, the action followed by him unzipping his pants, “You’re a real fucking bitch, you know that?” He spoke lowly.

His dick sprung up, almost hitting me in the face and making me flinch back yet I was given no time to come back from the jump scare when his cold hand grabbed a rough hold of my jaw— forcing it open.

He shoved his dick into my mouth, thrusting it at an incredibly fast pace as he had a handful of my hair, using both hands to hold onto my head. I gagged as I felt his cock go repeatedly in and out of my throat, my eyes welling up with tears. My hands held onto his hips for support.

I shut my eyes in pain before starting to reach upwards, pushing him away which signalled for him to stop. As soon as he pulled his dick out my mouth, a string of coughs left my mouth, saliva and tears mixed with mascara dripping down my chin.

Matt wrapped one hand around my neck and the other grabbing a chunk of my hair as he pulled he up with no intent of being gentle. Then, he pushed me down yet again, putting my hands and knees on the stairs in doggy position.

He undid my pants and pulled them down with my underwear in one motion, my desperate coughing gasps for air became one shocked gasp as he began pounding into me with no mercy. “You fucking whore.” Matt mumbled angrily with a breathy tone, his hands holding onto my hips for support as he continued ramming into me at a fast pace.

My moans intensified each second, “Matt!” I screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure from his roughness, feeling the knot tie in my stomach. I whimpered as he roughly slapped my eyes, leaving a residue of an unbearable sting.

He pulls me back by my hair, pressing me up against him with one hand on boobs and the other wrapped tightly around my neck as he slows his thrusts. Matt groans into my ear before marking my neck, biting into me in an almost malicious way. He brings his lips back up to my ear, “Fuck you.” I let out a weak moan before croaking out— “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be.” He said with bitterness, turning me around quickly and shoving my back into the cold hard stairs. I let out heavy breaths mixed with whimpers as he put my legs on his shoulder, thrusting his dick in me slowly. “You’re gonna apologise to me in the exact way that I want you to. Understand?” Matt stated, his face close to mine, making me nervous with direct eye contact. I nodded softly. “Speak.” He demanded.

“Yeah.” I complied quietly, biting my lip in pleasure. “Yeah what?” He demanded again, wanting more, his thrusts slowing as a warning as he knew how badly it tortured me to be fucked slowly. “I understand.” I replied in a pathetic, pleading tone. “Good girl.” He laid a soft peck on my lips before backing away from me and picking up his pace, his tip bruising my cervix.

It felt as though he was ramming right into my stomach. My moans collided with his soft groans in the air like a harmonised song.

A moan left his mouth, his hands gripped onto my thighs with his painted nails digging into my skin. My hands slid all around the staircase in an attempt to hold onto something yet that want was disturbed by his sudden, rough movements moving my entire body. “I’m gonna cum!” I moaned out, my words a soft whimper. “Mhm. Go ahead.” Matt’s voice was low and quiet as he approved through breaths.

My moans became more of a scream as I released all over his dick, my orgasm overtaking my entire body with pleasure. My eyes rolled back, he moaned as soon as I came yet paid no attention to slowing down to let me ride out my orgasm and only intensified his pounding.

Matt grabbed ahold of my legs by my ankles, pressing them together and bending them to the side. “Fuck.” He moaned lowly, he let himself fall, catching himself with his hand on the stairs one step above my head. His other hand took a rough grip on my jaw— making me directly look at him. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” I conceded quietly. “Louder.”

“I’m sorry!”

Matt’s hand connected with my face in between his harsh thrusts making me moan through heavy breaths, “Fucking slut.” he uttered angrily, taking his dick out me and spreading my legs open. Matt grabbed ahold of my waist and picked me up, turning around and pressing me against the door with force, making sure I didn’t bang my head on it.

He slid his big cock back inside me, bouncing me on him for a little bit— “Fuck, Matt…” I moaned, he eventually began his rough thrusts again, bounding me without mercy. My moans intensified into screams as I felt my next orgasm build up. He slapped my ass as hard as he could twice in a row, leaving behind a painful redness before aggressively pressing his lips to mine.

I moaned into his mouth as I came again, leaving it agape as I let my head fall into his shoulder. My brain melting orgasm lasted long, and that accompanied by Matt’s merciless pounding made it unbearable. “Mm..” I whimpered, hearing him groan as I scratched his back, feeling unable to even think.

“Look at me, you fucking bitch.” Matt spat out his words aggressively. “I can’t…” I managed to whimper out my quiet words. He grabbed me by my neck and pressed my head up against the door, forcing me to look at him. My vision was blurry, my eyes sleepy as I shut them roughly. “Too much.” I moaned.

“Fuck, baby, let me finish.” his voice came across softer as he kissed me gently. He stopped his thrusts to lay me down on the ground and pushed himself back into me in missionary.

Although his thrusts started slow, they intensified like always— becoming more rough and fast as he rode out his high. Our moans collided, filling up the silence.

He fell on top of me, his thrusts becoming sloppy as I felt his load shoot up into me with a hard thrust, his low whimpers like a song in my ear. My eyes widened at the sensation of him cumming in me.

After a few moments he lifted himself off of me, gently stroking my hair out my face as he spoke gently, “You okay?” He inquired genuinely.

“Mhm.” I nodded, my body still feeling weak. “I didn’t hurt you, yeah?”

“I’m okay.” I smiled softly before he gently took my hand into his and stood up— helping me up. I stumbled onto my feet, my legs feeling wobbly as I almost fell but was caught by Matt. “Come here, let’s go take a shower.” He said with a carefulness in his voice as he picked me up bridal style and carried me up the stairs and into the bathroom in his room.

The hot water cascaded down, enveloping me in its warmth. The steam rose around me, filling the air with a comforting haze. Matt’s hands find my hips from behind me, kissing my cheek then moving onto my neck. I hold onto his wrists gently as his right hand reaches towards my pussy. He rubbed circles on my swollen clit making me moan. His fingers slid downwards into my hole, pumping in and out a few times before he took them out and put them in my mouth. “Suck.” Matt demanded and I did as told.

“Good girl.”

[fitzs-space]

I want to talk about all the details I put into the Ties comic cause I worked on that thing for like a week and my brain likes to think about many things

Anyway, pspspsps I'm info dumping about my own designs gather round.

Notes for the character designs themselves

-The colours show if they are Red/Yellow/Green are different per character. Tango with bright colours, Skizz's are cool and dark, Impulses are more yellow, and Ethos are more desaturated. -Not all characters in the Life Games will get colour indicators in their eyes, the fact 3/4 of the designs here have it is unimportant shut -Impulse has a heart knot in his tie!! Look at it!! -Impulse cannot tie a tie. Tango does it for him. -Tango having his tie undone is his own choice -The choice of them having/not having pupils is intentional. -Etho only has the one on one side, maybe its cause the red eyes a little fucky in the vision, who knows though -Impulse has i's in the eyes -Skizz just straight up doesn't have em, but I normally don't draw pupils with that iris shape anyway. something something normally only draw that iris style with certain magical characters -I just stopped drawing with Tango with iris' at some point, idk -Skizz is designed as a fallen angel. that's why the halo's are all separated/broken, and why you can see darker feathers growing -maybe Impulse used to help him dye them white cause of some insecurity, maybe not -the lower his lives go, the less dark feathers are seen in his wings. like a cruel joke the watchers get a kick out of

-mullet Skizz MULLET SKIZZ!!!!!

-Etho is a sentimental mf /pos. they will keep and make a lot of patches for memory's and stuff. notable patches are, The NHO patch, a creeper cause of general Spazz, Canada flag cause Canadian /j, I normally add rainbow ones for the button saga of s7 but forgot to this time. -the rings are from all their divorces /J -the colours on the rings correlate to their owners (Bdubs, Cleo, Joel) lives. ie will be red if one of them is red kinda thing.

think that's the most of the design thoughts, now the Details in the comic itself,,,

-Skizz is the kinda mf who would fiddle//stim with random things in his hands. Many times its other peoples hands -dude will just hold peoples hands randomly when talking to them, team Ties just got used to it -That's why Etho took so long to notice the bracelet!

-their ass isn't phased by this kinda stuff anymore /hj -Skizz just enjoys contact man let me be -Throughout most of the comic Skizz has some sort of contact with Etho

-Tango and impulse also end up giving Etho bracelets as well -All the bracelets Etho gets share their colour indicator + the colour form the person who made it!

-you can see the colours slowly shift when Skizz ties on the bracelet, something something the magic of the world does some shit sometimes man.

-Skizz taught Impulse how to make the bracelets, so they have similar styles, Skizz's is more of a simple braid style though. -Tango went for something that took longer to do. it is a little scuffed /pos

-Ethos been getting their ass handed to them the episode before this, had to rightfully reflect that. you know? /j -the Slashes across their chest where form when Gem/Cleo killed them twice in that one episode. -The bite was originally supposed to be cause of Scars dogs. But someone in a reply made a joke about it, and frankly I think it'd be funnier if it was cause of Joel or some shit like they said.

-Had the axe as more of a battle-axe style. It was something Impulse made for Skizz (I forget who actually made it//Didn't want to go back to check) -I like showing characters having specific styles/ways they make armor and tools. -It's fun to show characters with tools and armor that can be distinctly seen as being made by another player

-That being an axe Impulse made adds more weight to the narrative of this moment and I want people to cry -something something for Etho its a moment of taking a weapon that Impulse made to protect Skizz, and using that as the tool that finally kills him -For Skizz this is a moment of his trust and care for his teammates. Being surrounded by people that he cares about and tokens that show their love for each other.

-Suffer, I could have been angstyier, and I will be actualy.

-Skizz is the one putting the axe to his own neck in this moment. Etho is putting as little force into it as they can. -Red king parallels who- -Etho also gets cut by the axe, something about sacrifice and how no life/time can truly be free in these life games -The blood wasn't actually intended to be golden ichor, I was just lazy and didn't want to draw red blood// wanted to have the cool lighting effect -Etho has the same colour in their blood too so, take it as you will

-I've had this comic planed since EPICODE ONE. had full intentions for it to go angsty in the end, and dam if the narrative didn't play right into my grubby little hands.

-I also just love how well I could parallel the moments in this comic. the comparison of the pages where both their faces are visible? the Joy in ethos face turning to complete anguish? the fact Skizz never stopped smiling? the way both moments start with an outstretched hand, and end with Skizz still holding onto Etho in a moment of trust? beautiful

-all the pages in the second part of the comic were framed specifically so I could avoid drawing Skizz ass.

[zeltqz]

Heeey niya how are you

You said you take requests so I had one but if you’re not comfortable with writing it it’s completely fine

Can you write about y/n and ran getting into a very bad argument and when ran moves a little y/n kinda flinches because her ex used to hit her and she thought ran was gonna do it as well and then ran feels very guilty and starts comforting her?

The front door slams open when you storm inside, the front door hitting the wall, throwing your bag onto the couch as you flop onto it, digging an agitated hand through your hair. “ Why are you so insufferable ?”

The sound of Ran’s chuckle does nothing but grind your gears, your jaw clenching tight when he closes the door behind him, walking towards you with his hands tucked patiently into his pocket. “You still won’t tell me what I did wrong...?”

“I didn’t think I had to. Or what, did your ‘flirty’ persona take over again?”

He chuckles again, and you shift away from him, brows furrowed, shoulders tensing, when he moves to sit next to you on the couch. 

Ran sighs, thoroughly gutted, stretching an arm out over the back of the couch to accommodate you, get you to calm down a little but you push him away. “You’re still mad at me?”

“Yes!” You flap your arms in the air. “I’m still fucking mad at you! I’m tired of you walking away with no accountability!” For the first time tonight, you turn to face him, turn to acknowledge his presence, and dig your finger into his chest, watching his eyes drop down to your finger trying to shovel your way into his heart. “I’m sick of you getting away with everything.”

“When are we gonna discuss your jealousy issues?” 

Your hand stops its digging, mouth falling open, blinking rapidly trying to process what you’ve just heard. 

“ My ?” You choke out the audacity, moving your hand from his chest. “I’m sorry— jealous ?”

“Yeah. Jealous.” 

You’re unsure what’s worse right now; his constant deflecting the issue at hand, or how nonchalant he is about the issue, spouting pure bullshit from his lips instead of owning up to his accountability.  

“I get in your last relationship, your boyfriend cheated on you. I get it; and that must be hard to work through.” Ran reaches out for your hand, and you’re in too much shock to push him off. “But projecting your insecurity, fear, and anger onto me? I don’t sleep with every girl I lay my eyes on.” 

When you stand up from the couch, irritated, he follows you, tugging uselessly at your arm to get you to face him. “You got anything else to accuse me of?”

“No.” 

“You sure?” 

He takes another step forward and spins you around quickly, breath catching in your throat when you take in the strong, ambrosial scent of his clothes, broad shoulders caging you in. Ran reaches out to cup your cheek and you push him away too quickly, like an instinct, an chasing impulse to swat his hand before he could make contact.

It was too fast to be driven out of irritation, the stuttering pattern in your breathing confirms his suspicions that it was a reflex. “What the fuck?”

“Just—” Your voice is shaky, fragile and unsteady, shifting away from him to create as much distance between you both as possible. “Just gimme a second.”

The walk over to the couch is silent, and he watches you with a furrowed brow, a hollow feeling in his chest when you sit on the couch, knees raised up to your chest, huddled, tracing the pattern of the rug with your eyes.

“You’re gonna tell me what that was just now?”

You shake your head quickly, sighing all the same. “It was nothing. Just go to bed.” 

He ignores your waving gesture to the direction of your shared bedroom, shifting to sit next to you, taking your limp form and pushing you down onto his lap. At first, you try to fight it, not wanting the comfort, the attention, the talk. But the tears were falling before you had the chance to control them, sliding down the couch to rest the side of your face on his lap. The ragged fabric of his jeans rub against your cheek, hiccuping your silent cries out as he’s running a delicate hand down the length of your body; a non sexual touch, but a light, soothing touch that tranquilizes your thoughts.

“I’m not gonna ask why you just flinched when I tried to touch you. But I have a feelin’ it has somethin’ to do with him.”

It goes unsaid by you both who him is, and you curl into yourself at the mention of your ex. 

“You know I’ll never do anything to you, right?” He jostles his thigh to grab your attention. “ Ever . I’ll never cheat on you, never hurt you, physically or mentally.”

You murmur, “I know.”

“Look at me.”

You decline the offer, wiping the tears with your wrist. “I look ugly right now.”

“When don’t you, babe.”

“Shut up.” You hit him playfully, gasping when he flips you over easily, so you’re facing towards him. He grabs at your hands before you could cover your face. 

“Lemme see your face.”

“No.”

“Stop fightin’ it. C’mon.” The sounds of your playful laughter is music to his ears, a deep belly laugh coming straight from the heart as you struggle to hold his hands off. You’ve stopped crying, and he continues distracting you with the action, tickling you till you can’t take it anymore, flipping the switch and pinning him down to the couch. “I guess that means you forgive me?”

You bite at your lip, smiling around it. Punching playfully at his stomach, before smoothening out the wrinkles on his shirt with your palm. “Yes, idiot. I forgive you.”

Ran’s hand slides down to the back of your head, bringing you down for a kiss; a passionate, delicate slide of your lips together. Your cheeks burn hot when he shifts upwards, sliding down on his lap, legs wrapping around his waist.

You pull away, pausing when your lips are just barely touching, breathing in each other’s air. “I love you, Ran.”

There’s something about the way he’s looking up at you, the steady eye contact you struggle to keep yourself together, the soft, proud expression in his eyes as dart all over your face, soaking in the sight of vulnerable you, his heart strings tugging at the realisation of you allowing him to see you like this.

“I love you too.”

[helpfandom]

Legion of Zoom Platonic Yandere Analysis.

As per usual, https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share is where I get my "Types of Yanderes"

Cars and Owners! Villains first and then the Batwheels, I actually had to cut this to two parts due to how freaking long it was getting.

This is long, by the by. I'm still mad that Tumblr got rid of the yellow font color.

@lonleydweller

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Quizz//Riddler: Clingy, Obsessive, Overprotective, and Impulsive. He feels the need to protect you from the Batwheels and of course has no problems just trapping you inside of him to keep you safe. He needs your approval of him and his riddles, and needs you to be his, to be his friend and no one else's. He's impulsive in that he doesn't think about what he wants to do in regards to you, and overprotective in that he is not allowing you to interact with anyone in the Legion of Zoom, and would only allow you to interact with Riddler. Speaking of, Riddler is: Impulsive as well, and Possessive, as well as Self-Indulgent. He feels nothing at your wanting to go with others, and thinks it's rather silly to want to talk to others. He's self-indulgent in the way that he would gladly take your affection from others, and possessive in the fact that he wants to signify that you are his apprentice, and would feel nothing at switching your clothing and merchandise to feature him and his 'copter.

Crash//BadComputer: Crash is Overprotective, Clingy, and Self-Indulgent. He's often hurt by those he helps and when you treat him with kindness, he sees it as you giving him attention and then he finds that he begins to need it. He needs your kindness. He's okay with the Legion of Zoom interacting with you, as long as you always go back to him. Showing favoritism means he might not do as good a job in fixing them up... And to reject him would lead to him falling into sadness, affecting everyone around him with his moping. BadComputer is Possessive, Sadistic and a little Delusional, thinking that (Reader) is a-okay with him being mean to them and poking fun at them, hence why BadComputer counts as sadistic, due to his mean nature. He's possessive in that he doesn't want you to ever be away from him, don't you understand that you're his friend? Don't you understand that when he douses humanity under the gas of hatred he doesn't mean you? Don't you understand that he actually cares for you?

Prank//Joker: Prank is Delusional, Self-Indulgent and Impulsive. He never thinks things through and is shown doing whatever he feels like doing at any point in time. He likes having your attention, and is one of the few who can restrain themselves in allowing the Legion of Zoom to know about his friendship with you, but after hanging around the others, he needs you to be around him and be his friend. He needs you to tell him how much you love being his friend and to feed his ego. Joker, on the flipside, is sort of a similar yandere in the sense that they share some traits, but he doesn't need you to tell him how much you love him and being his friend, he just assumes you do, due to his delusion. He's obviously impulsive, but that doesn't leak out into his yandere side, he's actually very thoughtful about his darling and he's clingy. Like... CLINGY. If he sees you walking about, even if he's chased by Batman or one of the Batfam, he will stop and hug you/pat your hair/ say hi before running off.

Jestah//Harley: Jestah knows she's awesome and that leads to her delusion. That seems to be a common thing among the villains... Anyway, she's Delusional, thinking you love being her friend due to how cool she is, and she's Manipulative, she's smart and has no negative feelings upon seeing how you want to see others, and feels nothing manipulating you into hanging out with her. She's a bit Sadistic in that she loves to push you to your limits, to test what you can do and tease you when you can't do what she wants. Harley, on the other hand, is Overprotective, Self-Indulgence is a habit of hers, and so is Impulsivity. She often goes on heists to steal random trophies, hence her impulsiveness, and she steals what she wants, hence self-indulgence, and so it obviously shows in her yandere-ness and care for you. She's quick to just nab your arm and put you in her ATV, not caring if she's about to run into a wall or even get caught by one of the Bats if it means you're safer. You're safer with her, and she's willing to beat anyone if it means you stick with her.

Snowy//Mr. Freeze: Snowy, he's soft-spoken and needy, quick to latch onto friends and focus on them and them only. He's Obsessive, and did I mention Clingy? He's a sad little guy who doesn't want to hurt his friends, and that's why he gets so attached to a little human who isn't his enemy, and knows what he goes through. He talks to you constantly and will insist you hide inside him when there's trouble on the horizon. He knows he's not supposed to, but he also knows that the rush that comes from his emotions overrides his sensibilities. Mr. Freeze is another yandere different from their vehicle, with a sadistic tendency to forget how normal people need warmth, and an impulsive urge to just do what he wants, because he can. He knows he can just take you from whatever you were doing, and no normal people will stop him. He literally kidnapped Ice Sickle because he didn't like the name of the snowman, he's impulsive with a capital "I" and he's possessive in that he just doesn't want you to be near or talk to anyone else, ever again, you have him, and he has you.

Ducky//Penguin: Ducky is... hard to understand, he's a clear thinker, but he has just enough impulsiveness to consider that a trait, and yet he truly does think things through from time to time. I think he's more possessive, that you're his and no one is supposed to be your friend, and sadistic in the sense that he will just go into water when you try to leave him, and now you can't go out or you might drown. He's not afraid to do that, or to begin a twisty turvey ride when you're inside him because he doesn't understand humans very well. Penguin is similar, because he thinks he's entitled to your attention, possessive and unafraid to show it, manipulative in that he, like Toyman, would leave his stuff around and use it as an excuse to see you and be around you. His robot penguins are just an excuse to watch you in your home. He also insists on hopping around to the Iceberg Lounge when he manages to wrangle you next to him, ignoring the looks from his employees for bringing around someone who likely shouldn't be in there.

Toyman: (No vehicle) Impulsive! Have you even met him? Manipulative as well, with his toys and leaving them around and gifting them to you to keep an eye on you, all of them flocking to you when he's arrested and taking over where you live, staying with you no matter what, even when you're at work, school, etc. He will find you. That is a threat.

Kitty//Catwoman: Impulsive, We've spent episodes on her impulsiveness, and Kitty is easy to distract already, so she's clearly impulsive. She could be considered manipulative, however she isn't cognizant of it, hence why I don't think she is, yes you have to make sure she's not distracted and that means you have have to be close to her, but she doesn't realize what she's doing. She's more-so super clingy, especially since Bam and the other Batwheels have a harder time keeping up with her distracted-ness and the Legion of Zoom are insistent on her joining them, and so to have a Darling that is neutral is a breath of fresh air and leads to a clingy Kitty because you don't try to force her into anything! Catwoman is another yandere who is very different from her vehicular counterpart, She's overprotective, most versions of her are, and she's self-aware, which is something that the other vehicular villains and other villains don't have. She's harder to realize that she has an obsession due to her self-awareness, and she's overprotective because she knows that Batman might just realize obsessions for what they are, and she doesn't want to lose her darling.

Poison Ivy: (No vehicle) She's impulsive, as seen by the few episodes we've seen her in such as the one where she attempts to make her own vehicle, and she's also a little sadistic from a bit of apathy, [Eat your Veggies, Gotham for example], but she's overprotective as well from a lack of caring in Gotham, so she's overbearing, making sure you eat everything your supposed to, that you're okay, you're not being bullied, etc etc. She's practically a helicopter parent from her neediness and demanding about your life and news.

[xoxoalette]

Maybe its only me who noticed this but is Eddie the fan favorite on here? I feel sad for Diva so lets give her some love and attention too! Are there any interesting facts about her that you want to share with us? Leave Eddie at home today lol

This is more of a personal one but does it ever bother you (the creator) when fans ask about Eddie more than Diva? You don’t have to answer this part if its too personal

Eddie sure is a fan favorite yeah !! I wouldn’t say it bothers me— I do get a bit sad but Ik the community prefers yandere men over women, so it makes sense for everyone to levitate towards Eddie. Not to mention I haven’t really done Diva any justice with my writing ^^

There have been times where I considered changing Diva’s sex but eh, I like her how she is rn :3 I just gotta work on her character

But onto the facts !!

Diva actually owns a collection of guns, her grandfather enjoys them and she picked up that interest from him. He’s also where she gets her interest in cars from !! She also has pretty scary aim.

Diva also does cam services, and it’s how she makes a lot of her income— glucose benefactors, onlyfans. That being said— she does it just for fun and would have no problem quitting once she got a partner and they voiced their discomfort towards it. That being said— Diva would not do twitch streaming, idk she’s just not v into gaming streams, so she’d probably get a job related to fashion/marketing.

I think a lot of people missed this since I’ve only mentioned it a few times and waaaay back— but Diva has a large scar on her back due to conflict with Eddie in the past. While she holds no grudge against him, I don’t think she cares too much about how he’s still hung up over it. (Not in like ‘get over it’ kinda way but like, ‘it’s not my problem’)

Diva doesn’t live in the same town as Eddie, she moved after getting a scholarship to a university a few towns north, so she lives in a city that’s a few hours away. While Diva typically comes off as a bimbo and almost airheaded, she’s very smart and it comes more naturally unlike Eddie who has to actually study.

Cannot cook, can barely bake. It’s just not in her genes and she has a hard time following recipes because she can be pretty lazy geehee… so she typically eats out or someone she knows cooks for her.

And here’s some things I’ve been thinking of rewriting/adding to her character:

Under read more cause I’m typing on my phone and done know how long this post actually is 😋 keep in mind, the canons below might not be set in stone

Cw:

Diva is still very social and bubbly, and she’s extremely friendly. It’s her natural personality, but also— it sure helps draw people closer, and those she’s interested in even closer.

Not to mention when someone likes you, they’re more malleable. Diva’s thoughts not mine !!

Her toxic trait? Poking a bear with a stick. But not in the sense that she wants to get people mad at her— in fact, it goes the other way, she wants to see how far she can push someone when they’re into her.

Unlike Eddie who is repulsed by his violent tendencies, ever since Diva moved to the city, she’s had bad influences. But at least when she needs people to disappear she knows who to call. There’s no blood or dirt on her hands. Usually.

Maybe she isn’t a yandere after all, maybe she is. All that matters to her is how far you can prove how much you love her :)

She wouldn’t stalk MC babes actively, but she would so put an AirTag on one of their possessions without them knowing just so if she did want to check on them, she can check her phone.

Impulsive. Impulsive impulsive impulsive. You’d think because she’s smart she’d make better choices, but Diva is only human.

[melkintoyou]

pleas write more stoner mark... im begging on my knees 🙏🙏

Mmm imagine Mark on tour and he calls you late at night, voice all groggy, audibility baked and needy. PART TWO

"YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL TO MEEEEEE,

TELL MEEE,

WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO AND MAKE THINGS SO COMPLICATED?"

You and Mark yell out in unison, singing Avril Lavigne through the phone. After a long, cold day at work, this is exactly what you needed.

It has been exactly two months since, your best friend kissed you and left for this tour. Nobody could've prepared you both, for this impulsive act of breaking down the bridge between friendship and love. You both agreed that, time apart would allow you to think about the next step... Except, you both couldn't go a second without talking to one another. You shared selfies and photos throughout the day, and ended nights with a facetime call. Even if it was 2 minutes, just to say good night. Mark made sure to hear your voice before he slept. Tonight was no different.

You had been on the phone for 20 minutes now. Your rooms dimly lit by led lights, both blue because you share a favourite colour. The coziness of your fluffy bedding and Mark's voice had every atom in your body relaxed. "And I met so many new people! It's crazy to see so many people fuck with the music over here" he rambled on about his experiences on tour. He talked about the feeling of being on stage and how comfortable he feels, like he can let go of everything. He describes it feeling as though the whole world disappears and the only thing matters is the stage and audience. Mark was born to do this. "I'm telling you dude, it's has all played out so cosmically. It feels like fate but also so unreal..." You listened intently by adding validating hums in between his sentences. Suddenly, you noticed the volume of his voice slowly fade into a silence, as he looked at you and smiled.

"But... man.. dude, I miss you" he pouted his lips, half smiling and looked away. "I mean.. It's whatever, just wish you were here you know"

"It all means nothing, if I can't share it with you" he said, coyly.

"AWWWWWW someone's obsessed with me" you teased him, making his face flush with a warm, red colour.

"Shut up, you're stupid y/n" he laughed, before clearing his throat.

"Also! Look what I got" he rummaged through his bag to pull out what seemed to be a small glass bottle, with a pipette dropper. "It's straight thc oil babe..It's so strong dude, so good." He went on, as he dropped some under his tongue.

"Yoo that sounds so good, I want to try!" You sat up, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip. Maintaining eyes on Mark, you refused to miss every moment of him gradually getting high. He looked so cute.

"Yeah for sure, I'll bring it with me when I come back. You're gonna love it.. It gives you such a body high" He said, now with his voice a bit deeper and eyes, a little lower. He let out a soft giggle. "Like, I feel so sensitive right now dude, this bed feels amazing..." He ran his hands up and down his torso. Eyes zoomed into you, with lips curling into a smirk. "We're gonna take this when I see you next..." "Yeah I'm down 100%" You say in between sips.

"Then I'm gonna touch you." He dead panned, as his eyes fixed on you, making you choke on the water and widen your eyes.

"Uh.." You lose all coherent thoughts as your heart starts beating in your ears and you felt your body slowly get hot. Mark chuckled, watching you get flustered over his comment.

"I'm just being honest.. I think about it a lot.. you know touching you" his voice was lower and raspier. Shifting his bed, he put his phone on his night stand and turned on his side. Propping himself up on his left arm. He ran his right hand through his hair. "All the pretty noises, you'd make." He continued, "Under me, on top of me.. You would be so sensitive to my touch, my fingers... my tongue. I want to kiss you everywhere y/n.. Can I do that? When I see you?" His eyes now sincere and big, yet filled with lust. It made you nervous.

"Urm.. yeah, I'd like that" you whispered, feeling his words go straight to your core. You slowly rubbed your thighs together, for some sort of relief, to your now steadily, growing dampened spot between your legs. You bit onto your lower lip. "Mark..."

"Yeah baby?" He licked his lips, moving closer to the camera.

"I miss you" you whine, almost needy at the use of a pet name.

"And I miss you."

You hummed, smiling at him. Head spinning with desire.

"Wanna make you cum when I see you next." He looked down at his bulge, now growing underneath the covers. "I can't wait to see you.. feel you around me" Mark palmed himself through his pyjamas.

"Can you uh do something for me?" Whisper fell from his mouth, trying to hold himself together.

"Mhmmm" you bit your lip and nodded.

"Can you be a good girl and touch yourself for me?"

____________________________________________________

[gx-gameon]

I feel like I'm always spamming you with messages so apologies for that but I just adore your au 🥹👉👈

Rereading some of you posts about Jesse and adore Seto being an overprotective father it's so good and I can absolutely see the rest the squad just messing with him once they've accepted Jesse. Like I can absolutely imagine Joey making an off handed remark that he wouldn't be surprised if Jaden and Jesse got married straight out of high school and Seto just short circuits while Yugi is just "Seto, Seto he was joking HE WAS JOKING PUT THE DUEL DISK DOWN!"

Don’t apologize. I’m having a great time. I’m so glad you guys love my little goblin brain child. And I love that you guys are interacting so much. It makes writing a lot more fun when I know people are enjoying it.

So don’t feel bad. Honestly you’re helping me organize my thoughts.

Oh Seto is so overprotective. Just look at how he is with Mokuba.

He finds out that Jaden has a potential boyfriend (they’re just friends right now) that sleeps over in Jaden’s dorm all the time (probably sharing a bed with Jaden) and he’s ready to overhaul the Slifer dorm. He knows Jaden likes it the way it is. But he’s about the put in “one student per room” policies and “no sleep overs” rules. Yugi and Mokuba look at him in exasperation because these are teens. They would break that rule so fast.

Joey thinks this is hilarious.

After all the dark world nonsense calms down and Jaden is safe. Things calm down.

Yes season 4 still happens and Jaden isn’t okay. But after he handles Darkness he calls home and tells them everything. Including that he got to meet up with Jesse again. He talks more about Jesse than he does about his actual enemy/adventure.

Everyone knows the two of them are back on track.

Joey makes a joke about Jaden following Yugi and Seto’s footsteps and marrying young. “He might even beat you and get hitched right after high school.”

Seto breaks something. Yugi has to talk him down. Joey, Tristan, and Duke think it’s hilarious.

The real problem comes when Jaden starts traveling.

It’s nerve racking enough having there deeply traumatized baby traveling the world ‘alone.’ Yes he has Yubel fused to his soul, his duel spirits, a cat, and his professors soul. But he’s still physically alone. Seto and Yugi were both nervous about this. The whole DM cast was.

Then Jesse reaches out asking where Jaden is. Yugi is honest and tells him Jaden’s plan to travel the world and help people and spirits. (Jesse has to fall more in love, Jaden is living his dream) Yugi just thinks it’s a concerned friend/crush asking questions but Jesse surprises him by saying he’s going to meet up with Jaden and travel with him.

It takes a bit of time but Jesse does catch up with Jaden.

Yugi and the others are relieved that Jaden has a traveling companion. And they couldn’t ask for a better one than Jesse.

Seto is in hell. He hates this. His precious baby boy is traveling with the Scandinavian boy all around the world. There is no supervision, no adults.

He can’t even be mad because he didn’t want Jaden traveling alone. But did it have to be Jesse? He doesn’t even have a valid reason to not like the kid. He’s an incredible duelist. Has a strong deck. Is loyal to Jaden. Has proven he will sacrifice himself for Jaden’s safety. On paper the kid is perfect. Seto doesn’t like him.

Yugi is constantly telling him it’s okay.

Joey, Tristian, and Duke are menaces

They are constantly saying things to set Seto off because they think it’s funny. Teasing him about wedding bells. Maybe Jaden will decide he likes living in Europe better. Just anything to push his buttons.

Duke takes it to far one day. “How do you know they haven’t eloped without you knowing.”

Seto can take a lot of things. He knows that they are trying to set him off. But just the idea that Jaden could get married without them even there. Horrifying. (And Jaden is impulsive enough he might just do it. Not because he doesn’t want his family at the wedding. No that’s probably the only thought that would stop him. But just that he and Jesse might find a place that does marriage ceremonies and just think, we’re already here, might as well.) (note this does not happen this is Seto’s imagination running wild)

He calls Jaden immediately. It’s the middle of the night/early morning where he is. He tries to get to his phone but he’s so sleepy and it’s on the other side of the room. It’s Jesse who gets up and answers. At this point neither are sure whose phone it is and just want the noise to stop. He sleepily answers with “hello?”

Seto hears Jesse’s sleep filled voice answer the phone and almost breaks it. “Where are you!” It’s not a question it’s a demand.

Jesse is wide awake now. “Paris. Is something wrong.” He’s trying not to panic. He doesn’t want to wake Jaden up more than he already is and he knows how important Jaden’s family is to him.

Sent does break his phone as soon as he hears the word Paris. He looks at the clock. It’s 10 in Japan (they were having brunch) making it 3 in the morning in Paris. It’s a 13 hour flight. Assuming the two boys stay in Paris he can be there by 4 pm their time. He’s about to take off. When Yugi comes and gets him. (Seto left the table to make the call)

Yugi is standing there looking very unimpressed with his husband. “No Jess everything’s alright. Some of our friends were making jokes and Duke made one about the two of you. Nothing bad. It just freaked Seto out… no we’re okay… I appreciate that you’re willing to wake Jay up to talk to us but it’s fine. You two get some sleep. I’m sorry we disturbed you. Good night.” He hangs up looking at Seto with a dry look “No. we’re not going to Paris”

Meanwhile

Jesse woke up out of a dead sleep by a phone ringing. Answers it without looking expecting one of their friends with no idea where they are or no concept of time zones to be on the other end “hello?”

“Where are you!” His best friend (boyfriend? I Don’t know yet) Oto-san’s demanding voice is on the other end. (Imagine waking up from a dead sleep to Batman yelling at you same vibe)

He’s instantly awake. “Paris.” He hears a crunch sound “is everything okay?” The line starts ringing. It’s dead.

Jesse is in a panic. What if Jaden’s family is in danger? He can see Jaden in bed. He’s curled back up blissfully unaware of any of this.

Jesse rushes to call Yugi. If he doesn’t answer or tells him something is wrong he will wake up Jaden and they will handle it.

Yugi is blessedly calm in the face of Jesse’s stressed out panicked whispers. He explains what really happened (baring the joke being that the two teens eloped) Jesse offered to wake Jaden if his dads were worried about him. He knows how Jaden gets sometimes after a nightmare and all he wants is Jesse or his dads. (He knows how he feels after a nightmare and all he wants is to be surrounded by his deck spirits and Jaden.)

Yugi appreciates the offer but declines and tells Jesse to get some sleep.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to get back to sleep after that. But he climbs back into bed anyways. Jaden instantly rolls over and curls around him. Oh that’s how he’s going back to sleep. He thinks as he gets comfortable curling around Jaden as well.

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty six - you bring me home

frank castle x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content minors dni! (car sex lmaooo, mxf nothing you haven’t seen before, its pretty sweet <3) swearing, canon typical violence, mention of scars, injuries, blood, literally packed everything into this chapter its a big one

a/n: wow. this was so rough oh my god. the entire first draft deleted itself and i had to re write the whole thing from memory, so i lost my planned chapter. i really hope i got everything in here, and im sorry for the wait AND how long it is lmao but i just. can’t believe i really finished it. ill rant at the end, but if you only read this part, i love you. thank you for letting me share the absolute vomit that is my brain. you are the best.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How was the drive?” Franks voice sends a shiver down your spine, even hundreds of miles away through a crappy phone line.

“Boring.” You sigh, pacing around the tiny motel room.

“You were meant to call an hour ago. Got me waitin’ up for you.” He sounds tired, and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s stupid, but the image makes you a little giddy. Waiting up for you. 

“There was… traffic.”

“You get lost?”

“Fuck you.” You bite automatically and he groans.

“So yeah?” 

“Yes, Frank. I got lost.” He laughs, the sound managing to take your mind off the dark room you’d managed to secure for the night, the bedside light doing nothing to brighten the small space.

“I gave you a map. It’s a straight shot from where you started.” Rolling your eyes, you look at the map you’d now bundled into a ball and thrown into the trash.

“Who uses a printed map? Seriously, how fucking old are you?” It’s playful and familiar, and all the frustration of driving for 10 hours melts into the bed.

Being a key witness in a now ongoing case apparently didn’t come with any frequent flyer miles, because both Matt and Frank had said you couldn’t risk going through airport security and being flagged in a system, so it meant you had to drive nearly 18 hours to Florida. You thought you didn’t mind road trips, but after today you think it’s only road trips with Frank you don’t mind.

“Maps don’t change, baby. Besides, you’d drive yourself into a god damn tree the second that voice in the car told you you’d missed a turn.” You hate that he’s right— even the thought of that monotone voice droning in your ear for ten hours makes you cringe.

“Whatever. Tell me about something. You said you were going to speak to Madani today?” He’s the one sighing now, and clearly the talk was about as fun as your drive.

“She’s all over the place. Some mishandled evidence fucked their entire case, and Bobby’s lawyers were too well paid to let it go. Murdock said they’ll be able to find more— the appeal’s already been approved cause of how high profile it is, but he’s got no new evidence. He said he doesn’t know if they can get him.”

“That’s… what I expected, I guess.” Frank agrees, and your sudden silence only serves to bring the real issue to hand. “You know where he is?”

“Yeah. I got it covered.” The line goes quiet, and you don’t really know what to say.

On one hand, you want Bobby dead. You know can’t do it- it wasn’t smart, and the last thing you were going to do is drag everything Matt and Madani had worked for through the mud for someone like him, let alone put Sam in danger. Some fucked up part of you is a little mad that it won’t be you, but Frank has every reason to hate him as much as you. You know Frank wants this, and that telling him to stop is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Your hesitation would only spur him to do it faster, be more impulsive. You don’t want to say anything to put him off.

On the other, you just want him with you. You worry like some love sick child, scared he’s walked out the door and isn’t coming back. You worry he’ll get caught, and end up in the exact spot he was trying to get you out of. You’re scared he’ll get hurt, or worse. Every time you close your eyes you can see him bleeding out, dark red staining your hands until you can scream yourself awake. There’s so many things that could go wrong, and ten hours staring over the hood of your car gives you way too much time to think about hypotheticals.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Frank says softly, and you flop yourself back on the single bed.

“Are you?” He huffs like the question is irrelevant.

“Madani asked about your dad today.” He ignores the question, and you’re too interested to poke him on it.

“Oh?”

“Asked what he knew about your time there. If he ever worked with the Gnucci’s.” A lump forms in your throat.

“You think she knows about the weird... blood stuff?”

“Don’t see why she would. Either way, it’s not gonna matter once he’s dead.” The bluntness of it almost makes you laugh. “He’ll be gone, and no one will come for it. Or you.”

“You don’t have to do this for me, Frank.”

“I’m not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Alright, I am, but not just that. The shit he said to me in there— the things he said about you. The way he looked at you in there… I watched that shit, and there’s no way in hell that asshole does what he did and lives.”

“What if he was found guilty? Would you of left it alone?” Maybe if you’d been more helpful to Matt and Madani, it would of gone better, and Frank would be here.

“You want me to answer that?” A part of you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. That wasn’t who he was. It shouldn’t make you feel the way it does to know that Frank would kill for you— just to make you safe. It does anyway, and heat flushes over your face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He agrees, a low sound rumbling from his end of the phone. “I spent most of the day wishing you were with me, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Turns out I fucking hate driving.” He laughs again, and if you could listen to the sound all night you think you’d sleep peacefully.

“You remember how mad you were that first time I didn’t let you drive?” Shaking your head, you flick off the lights slide under the covers.

“I was mad because you had a concussion and tried to fucking kill us.”

“Least I was gonna go the right way.”

“You tried switching drivers on the freeway, Castle.”

“Alright, I was a a bit out of it.” He says plainly and you smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “Wished you were here, too.”

“I bet you did.” He groans, and you hear him shift on the bed. Your bed.

“Too much space in here. Didn’t even know we had this much blanket.” He makes a real noisy show of it, tossing around the blankets you usually roll yourself up in. It’s meant to be a light hearted thing, but for some reason the idea of Frank spread out on your shared bed, one that you’ve both used extensively— it makes your heart race.

“Dickhead.” He groans again, shuffling around some more. “This one’s too small. Probably have to sleep on top of each other if you were here.”

“M’alright with that.”

“Not a lot of room to move, though.” You look around at the room, hardly enough space to stand in the corner.

“We’d figure something out.” You let your eyes flutter closed, humming high pitched at the idea. “What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“You.” You admit, and he seems to like it.

“Me too. Haven’t gone a night in this apartment without fuckin’ you in this bed. Drivin’ me crazy.” You hum again, pressing your thighs together to try and dissipate the heat that’s suddenly overtaken your whole body. “You thinkin’ about it now too, aren’t you baby?”

“Yeah, Frank.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He growls, and you bite your lip to hide your laugh.

“Why not, Frank?” You practically purr the word, drawing it out and saying it all breathy like you do when he’s teasing you.

“Cause you’re gonna make me drive ten hours just to fuck you in whatever dirty motel you pulled off into.” You’re still smiling, but you think if you keep messing with him, he’d do it. He’d drive ten hours, a hundred of them if it meant teaching you a lesson. Or just being with you. “I’ll see you soon. Real soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, knowing if you keep talking to him your entire plan will crumble in front of you, because you’re half considering driving home just to sleep next to him. “Soon. Be safe, okay?”

The words tumble out, and you try to hide the guilt you feel when you say them. He was only not safe because of you— because you couldn’t finish the job yourself. You’re glad he can’t see your face, because you hear him mumble on the other end and your eyes close listening to him.

“Always. Tell the kid I said hi.” With that, Frank hangs up the phone, and you slide it onto the table right next to the pistol you keep loaded and ready to fire.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank pulls the saturated beanie over his head, and it’s probably doing more harm than good at this point, but he doesn’t have a second to really give a shit. His eye-line is perfect— directed straight into the penthouse apartment Bobby Gnucci was driven to three hours ago. He’s been tucked away in the corner of the rooftop for just as long, watching the man pace and yell on the phone.

It had taken him a few goes to get the right frequency to listen in on the calls he was making, but once he had he took as much information done as he could. He’d had enough of watching, and now he was satisfied with the phones calls he’d listened to that the man was alone for the night; not counting his extensive security team layered through the apartment block. Frank felt the familiar hum in his veins, shoving his loaded pistol in his jeans and swinging the strap of a rifle over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs, across the street and slipped into the back of the building.

There’d be witnesses if he didn’t take the right route, and to make this work he needed every chance at an alibi he could get. He was so used to not caring— every time he’d gone into something like this, he didn’t have something to get back to. He had no preservation, no concern for what came after. Hell, if he was honest, he didn’t care if he went out doing something like this. He would of preferred it, maybe even hoped he’d die somewhere in the cross fire.

Even just talking to you on the phone had him itching to get back to you now. He wanted to be careful— something he never really thought of before. A heavy ache in his stomach that twisted something violent when he thought about not getting home, not making good on his promise from a few hours ago, it made him sick. He planned as much as he could, as much as he was capable of, and hoped to God it was enough.

Frank hid his body behind the corner of the wall. He hid his face, too, even though he’d already had Micro’s help shutting out the cameras. He knew it would set off alarms for the security team, but he planned for that. They’d spread out, follow orders that he’d listened to over the radio, three men on all the entries and exits, and then ten through the penthouse. If he timed it right, he could clear the first few levels before the guards arrived.

He didn’t care about making noise now— slamming his way up the fire access while Gnucci’s men no doubt got into position. He’d just past a number 6, and Bobby was on the top floor. 23. He kept going, not hearing any doors open. When he passed 9, the door on the level below him cracked open and he jammed through the next exit he reached, getting into position.

He could hear voices coming from his right, and steadied himself as he turned the safety off his gun. He had a small army of men to get through, but he knew if he could make it, landing the hit on Bobby would be easy.

He wasn’t nervous. Pure adrenaline flooded him, like it always did, and he didn’t think twice before standing out of cover and pulling the trigger.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How have you grown so much?!” You nearly shout, hugging Sam tighter as he all but latches onto your leg. “God, you’re gonna be my height soon.”

“I missed you!” He says, words muffled in your jacket. You don’t even have to bend really, he’s that tall. It is even possible for him to grow that much in just a month? “Come! I want to show you my stuff. Me and Niko share a room, and it’s the coolest thing…”

You let him drag you around the house, showing you the bunk beds that are set up for him and Nikolai. He shows you books he’s brought home from school, and it makes you smile how chaotic his room is. There’s piles of books and papers everywhere, stuffed under the bed and nearly toppling on the tables. It looks like it’s lived in… like a home, and your heart warms and breaks all at once.

When he finally finishes his impromptu tour, he pulls you outside where the rest of the family has set themselves up, and runs out into the giant back yard to chase after Nikolai. You hardly had a chance to say hello to them, but if you were honest you hadn’t thought of anything but Sam since you saw him.

“Did he show you the bunk beds?” The doctor— Zaed, you remind yourself, comes up behind you on the deck. “He hasn’t stopped talking about showing you.”

“I thought he was gonna explode.” Zaed laughs, and you turn to look at him. He’s still sporting a scar across his forehead, and it somehow makes his older features look slightly hardened. His face was still soft, something about him gesturing kindness, an observation you never made in the months you were locked away. “He told me you made them.”

“It took me weeks. I am not very… handy.” Smiling, you turn back to watch Sam and Nikolai screaming and laughing as they chase each other with Nerf guns. “I am sorry for what happened with the case.”

“So am I. If he’d gone away, you wouldn’t have to stay in Witness Protection.” He nods, turning away for a second only to return and offer you a can of something. “What is it?”

“It’s Russian. You’ll like it— it’s strong.” You crack it open and take a long drink, hoping to drown the rising anxiety that kneads the back of your mind at the thought of what Frank was doing right now. “We don’t mind it so much here.”

“Florida?” He nods.

“We want to stay. Corinne thinks the children— with what they’ve been through, shouldn’t move too much. They seem happy here.” You hum in agreement, listening  to the light squeals of the youngest girl, who’s name you haven’t learnt yet, who’s got the biggest Nerf gun of all and is shooting the shit out of both boys. “It was my idea. To offer to take him in. If you are upset, please lay the blame with me—“

“Upset? God, why would I ever be upset?” He blinks in surprise, looking to you.

“You are here with him, and yet you still seem far away. I figured the suggestion was weighing on you. We only offer because… well, we have all grown quite fond of him, and for you— to you we owe our lives. I thought if we could make any of this easier…” You shake your head, finishing the bitter liquid in the can.

“You looking after Sam is about one of two good things I have going right now.” Zaed seems to relax, leaning forward onto the railing as you both stare out to watch the kids. “I think he’s happy here.”

“He is. He misses you, but he is happy.”

“And safe.”

“Of course. I pity anyone who would try to get past Corinne now.” You laugh at the tinge of genuine anxiety in his voice, as if he imagines it, but his eyes are full of admiration.

“I want to talk to him about it… make sure he’s okay, but if he wants to, I think him staying here would be the best thing for him.” Zaed doesn’t answer right away, just lets the echoed laughter of the kids fill both of your ears before he nods simply.

“He will be safe. And I am sure you will learn to love Florida, too, with how much you will visit?”

“What?” Again, a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Sam did not show you the spare room? We have cleared a space for you— whenever you need it. You… it is the least I could do. You saved my life—“

“Hardly.”

“I owe you it. My families life. My own. Whatever you should need here, the door would be open to you.” You have to look away, because it’s too much, and you don’t know when you became so soft that shit like this made you tear up.

“You don’t owe me anything. You keeping Sam safe is everything I ever wanted. I think we’re even now.” You laugh, your throat suddenly feeling a little tight.

“I couldn’t help but notice you arrived alone.” He questions, and you hide your face, unsure if the way you chew on your bottom lip gives too much away.

“Yeah.” No amount of alcohol could drown out the thought of Frank. You hadn’t heard from him in a day. Zaed looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he assess you.

“I thought he was going to drown with you that night. When he saw you go into the water… I recognise that look in a man’s eyes.” It seems so long ago now, and your hand instinctively goes to your stomach, where Frank sewed you up the first time. “He is coming soon, I assume? I doubt he would let you get too far from him right now.”

“Yeah, he’s…” You trust Zaed— but there’s only one person who takes precedent over the people taking care of your brother. “He’s just finishing up some stuff with the case in New York. He should be on his way now.”

“Ah.” He says, his eyes lingering on you in question. You say nothing, just sink a little more of the can. “Well, when he kills the ублюдок, I hope he makes it last.”

Before you can recover and wipe the shock off your face long enough to ask him how the hell he guessed what Frank is doing, Sam and Nikolai are in front of you, and Zaed disappears back into the house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank grunts, a loud nearly animalistic sound vibrating off the walls as he clears the 23rd floor. Every time he breathes out, blood sprays out of his mouth. He can’t tell if it’s his own or he’s just covered in so much that it’s dripping off him. Either way he can’t help it, chest burning for oxygen after he laid the lower floors to absolute waste.

He’d ditched the assault rifle somewhere between the 18th and 19th floors, not even bothering to pull out his pistol. No— he’d fought every single one of them with his bare hands, and anything he could find scattered between dead bodies.

His right hand was fucked, and he’s pretty sure he got shot. Somewhere on the right side of his body, there’s a shooting pain between his thigh and his ribs, but it’s not enough to slow him down. He shoves his body weight into the penthouse door, throwing himself into guards he knows are ready and waiting for him. He reaches for his pistol, shooting three guys in the head before his eyes adjust to the dimmer lights in the room.

He hears them shouting orders, and he kills three more as he crosses the living room. One of them he puts through the TV screen, glass shattering under his hand as he crushes the man’s skull between the hard surface. The other two he shoots, and then moves towards the last four. All of them shield the door to the bedroom— putting their lives on the line for a man who doesn’t deserve the air he’s wasting.

Frank doesn’t have a moral compass when it comes to revenge. Not when it has to do with the people he loves. It’s why he clears the round of bullets in his gun on all four of them in less than thirty seconds, watching the lifeless bodies pile up in the doorway, there isn’t a single moment that he hesitates.

“Bobby!” Frank shouts, his voice horse and so loud he’s got no doubt the dead hear it.

He hears shuffling, and drops the pistol before stomping his way through into the bedroom. He sees Bobby, crawling across the floor in an attempt to reach for a gun dropped by one of the guards, but just as he goes to reach for it, Frank slams a bloody boot down on top of his hand, feeling the crush of bone under his weight.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and Frank smiles sickly, blood dripping from his teeth. “Get the fuck off me, you animal!”

Frank kicks him in the face, two of his teeth flying out and scattering across the carpet. As he rolls over, Frank grabs him by the collar and sits him up, watching his head lull to the side.

“Wake up.” Frank slams his fist into his skull. There was no way he was passing out this fast. Not after what he’s done. “Wake the fuck up.”

His hands shake with how hard he’s holding Bobby upright. So hard he feels the bone of his collar begin to give, and Frank chases the idea. Bobby thrashes, screaming as his eyes shoot open, the sound kicking Frank back into gear. He lets go of his shoulder long enough to pull back, only to drive his fist and crack the rest of his shoulder.

“Help m—“ Bobby tries to shout, but Frank shuts him off with another well placed shove of his weight into Bobby’s stomach, winding him. He wheezes, the pathetic sound something like music to Franks ears.

He punches him again— over and over. Not enough to kill him, though. No, Frank wasn’t done, he was just feeding the thrill. He’d been waiting too fucking long for this, and there was something satisfying about seeing this man— this weak excuse for a man being blinded by his own blood as he cries for someone to help him.

“Ain’t no one comin’ for you.” He growls, and grabs Bobby’s face so it hangs straight. His jaw is slack, but his eyes go wide when he feels the blade at his ribs. “You know that? That there ain’t a single person out there comin’ for you. No one gives a shit about you. You’re alone in here— your life in my hands.”

“Haaa—“ Bobby tries but whatever it is fades out into a scream when Frank slides the blade between his third and fourth rib. Slowly— real fucking slow. “They… they’ll come. Th-They’ll come f-for me.”

“No one’s comin’. Dead. All of ‘em. You’re alone.” He slides it a little deeper, watching the realisation wash over his face.

In truth, Frank wasn’t doing this for him. Sure, it felt fucking good, and Frank was enjoying the sight of the life draining out of his eyes, but he wants him to know why. Why he’s here, why he took out every last man in this building so he knew there was no hope. No one for him to go to.

He knew that’s what it was like for you. Frank couldn’t give you back those years, and he couldn’t take that much time with this— he’d thought about it, but he wanted this to end here and now. He could do this here, for you. Could make him know just how it feels to have all that power beat out of you, and know that there’s no one out there coming to save you.

“Stop…stop!” He wails, and Frank hits him harder. Every crack of his fist sends Bobby further into unconsciousness, and when he manages to stop himself, he shakes him awake again.

He gurgles on his own blood, dark red pools choking out of his mouth. His face is unrecognisable, already starting to blow up as he strangles in a few short breaths.

“I can… I have money. I can p—“ The effort of the words sprays another load of blood out of his mouth, and even though he’s exhausted, Frank laughs.

“You think I want money?” He leans down, yanking the knife out of his ribs and shoving it in again.

“Fuck! What do you—what do you want?!” Bobby wails again. Frank smiles.

“I want you to know that she’s the reason you’re dead. The last thing you’ll know is me— my face, and you’ll know it’s because you ended up just like you made her. Except she got out, and you never will.” Frank loses sense of time, his injuries starting to catch up with him as he yanks the knife out one more time, before slamming it home into Bobby’s skull.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m watching!” You shout as Sam lines up again, taking a few steps back before rushing forward and kicking the ball towards their make shift goal in the yard. You have to admit, for only been playing a few weeks, he’s got a hell of a kick on him.

“See! I’m getting better— my coach says next year I can try out for the first grade team if I keep training!” He’s smiling so big, and then he’s gone again, picking up the ball to take another shot at Nikolai who’s got goalkeeper gloves on, ready to catch it.

You’d be happy to watch this all day, but then Corinne calls out to you, telling you your phone is ringing, and you all but leap over the railing of the deck. When you race inside, you expect to see Franks name, and your heart sinks when you don’t. You knew he wouldn’t be able to call until it was over, but it’s been nearly two days since you’d heard anything. Then, you see it’s an unknown number calling, and your hands are shaking when you disappear into what is meant to be ‘your’ room to answer.

“Hello?” You recognise the voice instantly when she says your name. “Fucking hell, Karen. You scared me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but are you?!” She nearly shouts, and you are still coming back to your mind with relief it wasn’t someone telling you Frank was dead. “I don’t even know how you did it, but I don’t want to. The way they found him… Jesus.”

“Wait. What? Karen, I’m in Florida.”

“What?”

“I’m with my brother in Florida. I came up here two days ago after the trial.” She goes quiet, and you can hear the commotion in the background. Remembering it’s a Tuesday, and that she must be at work, it only furthers your suspicions. “Who’s dead?”

“Bobby is. They found him. They found his body— but…”

“Karen, tell me.” All you need to hear is Frank wasn’t found. That he got out of there before anyone saw him. It would be your fault— all of it would be your fault if he was found. You needed to get back, you needed—

“Sorry. Sorry, I just thought… with everything that happened before, I thought it might of been you. Bobby’s dead, but… there’s nearly 50 men in the building with him. They’re all dead. And Bobby; he was hardly recognisable. It took them nearly 24 hours to identify him.”

“24 hours?” Frank needed to get out of New York as soon as he killed Bobby. If the police had been crawling around there for nearly a day… “Karen, I gotta go. Thank you for calling.”

You cut it off before she responds, and call the only number saved in your phone. It only rings twice before he answers, and you could nearly cry when you hear his voice.

“Stop fuckin’ ringin’ me, Murdock. I don’t know shit and I’m busy.” He grumbles through the phone, and you choke out something between a laugh and a sob. “Oh, fuck. Sorry— hey, sweetheart. Was just about to call you.”

“It’s… did the— job go okay?” You try to calm your voice as best you can, knowing that if anyone traces the call he’s done for.

“It took me longer than I thought. Had to get stitched up, then Curtis drove me halfway— passed out for most of it.” Before you can ask, he answers. “I’m fine, don’t do that.”

“You’re okay?” Relief floods your body, phone nearly slipping out of your hand with how hard you were gripping it. “Everything’s… everything’s okay?”

“Come see for yourself. I’m pulling up.” Like a kid on Christmas, you toss the phone and basically sprint to the front door, hearing an unfamiliar truck rumble down the isolated street.

He’s driving, clearly having ditched Curtis, but when he gets out he’s got a limp, and his hand is bandaged. You don’t run, instead you stand in the driveway and soak up the image— Frank; leaning against the door of the truck, sunglasses covering up what you have no doubt are black eyes. Alive. Favouring his left side and still with dried blood on his head, but fucking here.  

“You’re hurt.” You say it when you finally reach him, but it sounds pathetic, closer to the tone you’d whimper his name in.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says huskily and reaches out, yanking you forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

The soft touch of his bandaged hand is opposite to the greedy grasp of his free one, the one wrapping around your back and fisting the material of your shirt, pressing so you were flush against him. Both of your hands cup his face, feeling the rough surface of his skin. You lose yourself in the taste of him as your fingers trace the patterns of scars peppering around his head— a constellation you’ve memorised a million times over, and yet it still feels as illuminating as the first.

He groans your name, sliding his hand up to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip. You lean back slightly, staying at close to him as possible. His eyes look you up and down, and there’s a glint in his eye; a hunger that never seems to be satiated when he looks at you. He’s still feverish for it, and it makes your toes curl in your shoes.

“Fuckin’ missed you.” He mumbles against your lips, and it makes you smile against his.

“I can tell.” His other hand forgets it’s injury as he searches your body, gripping your hips and pressing you closer.

“Get Sam. Let’s go home.” He tucks his head lower, mouth kissing under your jaw, and as much as you do want to get the fuck out of here with him, you pull away.

“He’s… he’s staying here.” Frank pushes the sunglasses off his face, looking at you through what is actually only one bruised eye.

“Staying?” You nod. “You sure?”

“I talked to him about it. He fucking loves it here, Frank. He didn’t want me to go again, but you should of seen him with them. They treat him like their own, and he adores them. It’s so much better than anything I could of thought.” Frank wraps his arms around your back and hugs you right, and your eyes flutter closed. “And you can’t just leave. They’re expecting you to come in and say hi.”

“Why?” The way he says it makes you laugh, as if you’d just asked him to drink gasoline.

“Come on.” You tug him by the wrists, and even though he groans and leans on you up the driveway, you both stagger inside and follow the sounds of Sam’s laughter, leaving everything else behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“They were being nice.” You haven’t wiped the smile off your face since you slid into the passenger seat this morning. “Well, I slept great. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“Mhmm.” Frank grumbles, clearing having a much worse sleep than you did.

It was sweet, and truely, you wanted to take them up on it. When Frank dragged himself through the front door of  where Sam had been staying, everyone had nearly jumped on him. Sam couldn’t contain himself, clearly trying to play it cool but simultaneously thinking Frank was the coolest person he’d ever met. It was sweet, the way Frank was with the kids, the sight making you both smile and want to cry.

Either way, when Corinne and Zaed had offered for you both to stay the night, Frank agreed and all but dragged you down the hallway after dinner. The spare room was nice— set up clearly for two people, and you were only human.

It would have been perfect— had the room not been sharing a wall with your brother and his new best friend. A very fucking thin wall. One that was nearly vibrating with how loud they screamed every five minutes playing some game on the TV. The louder they were, the more it became apparent that neither of you would be getting a lot of sleep, and not in the good way.

Having Frank that close all night but not being able to do anything about it reminded you of the start of this whole thing. How you shared a bed with him but had to force yourself to keep your hands to yourself. It was borderline painful, but eventually you managed to drift off to sleep, not missing how hard Franks hands were gripping your hips like he had to physically cement himself to stop from fucking you through the bed.

When you woke up, Frank had all your shit shoved in the car, and was outside cooking pancakes with Sam. You took your time saying goodbye— making sure to thank both Corinne and Zaed properly, and then promising you’ll be back. Soon. ‘So soon you won’t even have time to miss me’ you’d promised Sam, and he grinned and hugged you before disappearing to get ready for school.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Frank looked to you before shifting in his seat, one of his hands resting on your thigh and squeezing.

“Got a stop to make before getting back to New York.”  You’d been driving for a while now— about half way between New York and where you’d left Sam. You turned in your seat, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be cryptic.” You try to sound assertive, but you can’t seem to hold any resentment when you could feel the warmth of him palm on your thigh.

“It’s close, alright? Promise.” The words eased something in your chest, the same way his smile did when he looked at you.

A small silence drifted between you as a Billy Joel song hummed softly on the radio, and your head dropped, eyes tracing over the bruises left on his knuckles. Your fingers dance around them, careful to keep your touches light. You follow the lines of black and blue up over his wrist, watching them disappear under the arm of his jumper. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and when you push up the sleeve just slightly, you swear loudly.

“Fucking hell! Is this broken?” You pull the sleeve up higher, and you tighten your grip on his wrist when he goes to pull away. If you hadn’t watched him so closely, you would of missed the way he winced, and you let go immediately. “Sorry. Sorry— fuck, Frank. Is this all from—“

“I’m fine. Just a couple scratches.” He says, keeping his blackened eyes trained on the road. It would of been easy to miss— not seeing him without clothes since he’d come back. Bile rises in your throat at the thought he was hurt because of you— because he was doing this for you. Suffering for you. Like he has the entire time.

“Are you lying?” He shakes his head, and you lightly poke him in the side. He hissed loudly, flinching away from you and swerving the car. “Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.” Frank groans.

“You’ve been driving for hours, just—“

“It’s fine. We only got a few more miles till—“

“Please.” There must have been something in your voice, some kind of soft vulnerability that even he isn’t used to hearing, and then the car is pulling off the side of an empty highway, dusk rolling over the hood of the truck.

You reach out, pulling the sunglasses off his face to reveal him slowly. This part you’ve seen, but it still knocks the wind out of you. The cut along his cheekbone, not deep enough to need stitches but you know it will scar over. His right eye is a deep purple, the left nearly green. You go to draw your fingers over his face, but hesitate, worried you’ll hurt him. He sees you pulling back and catches your wrist, placing your palm between his cheek and his own hand.

“Don’t do that.” You choke out a laugh, smoothing your hand over and back into his slightly longer hair, pulling him closer over the console of the car.

“I’m not doing anything.” You say softly, something guilty in your voice. When he hears it, he shakes his head at you.

“Can read you like a book. You got nothin’ to do with this, alright?”

“I have nothing to do with it?” You want to laugh. “I’m the reason you were there. The reason all this happened.”

“I would of been in the same place with or without you. This part?” He gestures to himself, his torso that you know all too well is littered with scars. “This isn’t a part you blame yourself for.”

“But it is. My fault.” He opens his mouth but you talk first. “All of this… watching those kids today, watching Sam— all I ever did was put him in danger. And you. It’s better for him to be there, away from all this. Away from me. Maybe now all this is over, it would be better…safer, if you—“

“Stop. I don’t wanna hear that shit. You know how selfish you sound?” You blink a few times, eyes meeting his. At some point he’s leaned even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body thawing you out. “You’re right— I wouldn’t of gone back to New York the past two days if it wasn’t for you. You know why?”

“Listen—“

“No. I wouldn’t of gone back because I would of killed that asshole six months ago and been home in time for dinner. I’ve been doin’ this a long time, and there’s nothin’ you could of done that would of changed how this ended.” He holds your face up to his, rough hands holding you as gently as they could, and his thumb traces the scar just above your eyebrow. “Sam is safe with them, but don’t think for one fuckin’ second he’s better off without you. God knows I’m not. You’ve done nothin’ but good for that kid, and I’d… fucking hell. I’d be dead without you, you know that?”

“No you wouldn’t.” Your voice was so soft it hardly broke the silence, but he leaned in, his forehead pressing to yours. “You could probably jump out of a building and walk it off.”

“Maybe. But now I gotta be careful nd’ come home to you, don’t I?” He smiles, and then kisses you and you forget where you are. Words die on your tongue and are replaced by the taste of him, mind freezing over when he touches you. He does it every time. Every time he manages to take your breath away with one whisper of your name, one swipe of his thumb over your mouth. It’s intoxicating and dependant, something you never thought you’d want, but it feels so good with him. His hands drop to your waist, their pull demanding and needy as he yanks you up and over the centre console and onto his lap.

“I’d do it again. All of it. Kill every single—“ You kiss him again, squeezing your eyes shut, and he groans as you shift on his lap. “Fuck, baby we should wait till…”

“Till when?” You say breathlessly, and despite his words his hands are already sneaking underneath your shirt, his cool hands meeting your feverish skin. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and your hips roll forward again, seeking him out. “I want you now, Frank.”

“Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” He says and then crashes into you, your back nearly pressing against the dash with how quick he moves. Your gasp of surprise is lost in his mouth, and you can feel the sparks he makes in your chest crackling their way through you, toes curling in your shoes.

Your half bent backwards, legs in either side of his as he keeps your chest pressed to him, both arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. You tug at his shirt helplessly, getting it stuck around his arm and he smiles against your mouth, leaning back to look at you before whipping it over his head.

In the dark of the room last night you wouldn’t of seen it, but now the lights streaming in from the car window, and Franks torso is nearly a rainbow in it— blue, purple and green bruises all up his side, with a short but deep cut on the low right side of his abdomen. He’s taken the bandage off it too early, the stitches still healing, but you can tell it’s expert work. Much better than the botched job you did a month or so back, something he still bares the reminders for.

“Just… just a couple scratches, huh?” He grunts something illegible and hauls you back to him.

“Shut up.” He keeps you pressed close, not giving you a chance to say something back, but then his hands dip lower and you’re a goner.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah. Fuck waiting.

He’s got you here— now, on top of him, and he can’t even fucking think of anything else. Your hands are being so gentle and cautious when he really couldn’t care less about the pain, but you do. You always do.

He wasn’t gonna waste another second, and seeing your eyes close the second he got your pants off and dipped his hands between your legs… it’s pretty much as close to heaven as he was going to get.

You fall forward, Frank catching you with one arm and pulling you close while the other continues slow, teasing circles just how he knows gets you all worked up. Your head tucks away into his neck, and he lets you hide for now, but when he’s got you home— real home, then he’ll be able to look at you as much as he god damn wants.

Your hips move against him, chasing his slow rhythm, and he feels your teeth scrape agains this neck, wordlessly rushing him along. 

“You need me that bad?” He says lowly, and watches in awe the way his words wash over you and yank you closer to the edge. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t of left you so needy—“

“Fuckkk… right there—please.” Your voice was so high it cracks a little, and it fucking sets him on fire.

“Get my belt for me, baby.” He whispers, feigning a bit of self control as he watches you quickly fumble with the buckle. The slight brush of your hands could finish him then and there, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to try and remember why he wanted to wait. He had just one more card to play— one that you’d seen him play a few times before, but he doesn’t think you expect it this time, and he needed some semblance of composure to remember it.

A real house, white picket fence and all, smack bang on halfway between New York and Florida. He couldn’t leave New York, not ever, but he had a new anchor now, one that deserved to have it all.

Frank planned to take you straight home. Make a ten hour drive and keep his hands to himself, but how the fuck could he when you were like this? Looking like you do, touching him so fucking sweet and soft and saying how much you missed every part of him— it was a dream come to life, and one of the few moments he’d let himself go in.

You shuffle as close as the seat allows, your now naked chest pressing against his. He dips his head, kissing your jaw, and he’s suddenly surrounded by you. Arms around his neck, warm and soft as your fingers thread in his hair, both of you moan at the feeling of him sliding into you. It’s white hot and nearly painful, how even with the way you’re dripping down your thighs, it still takes you a second to take him all the way. You wriggle your hips, trying to settle yourself and Frank nips at your neck, slowing your pace just slightly. He can hear you sigh, but you listen. You always fucking do.

“Shit— so fucking good. You can take it.” He hums and runs his hands over your skin. You lean into the touch, and when you sigh again he sinks your hips lower, a short punch of your name bursting from his chest when you slam yourself down. “Fuck. There you go.”

He’s a wreck underneath you, and your hands slither away from his hair to his face when you pull him up to kiss you. As much as he loves the feeling of your hips grinding down ever so slightly right now, it’s this part he loves the most. The slow intimacy of it— how he knows he can stay right here for the rest of the day and nothing will change. He can feel how much you love it, how much care you handle him with, and it cracks something old and hard in his gut.

You shudder as he lifts his hips, keeping your mouths together and kissing hungrily. He’d think you’d both been starved for a year the way you two act, but he’d admit it to anyone that asked that he was gone for you. He knows it well and true, in his chest and in the way you bounce in his lap, moaning into his mouth like he’s breathing air into your burning lungs.

“Fuck— fuck, I love you. I fucking… Jesus Christ, you’re so good. I love you.” He can’t shut himself up, and your breath gets faster. He knows you love it when he talks. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you— wanna feel you. I know you want to.”

“Slow… Frank, you’re gonna hurt yourself—“ You suck in a breath and squeeze your eyes shut. His hands stay tight on your hips, and he feels the pleasure buzz under his palms, your skin nearly alight with it on top of him. “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He wraps his forearm around you and fucks you harder, any pain and injury burnt out by how tight you are around him, and how perfect you fit him. He’s close, so close that he’s hardly able to kiss you now. You both collide in a mess of tongues and sighs, and when he hears you croak out his name into his mouth, he knows you’re cumming for him.

He can’t hold himself back, chasing you into that high with blinding abandon. It hits him like a freight train, bowing him over you like he’s taken a hit, but it feels so good he can’t register that he isn’t breathing like this. He keeps kissing you until he’s sure he’s going to pass out, and only stops when you pull away, eyes darting to the highway where headlights slowly flicker on the horizon.

“Shit.” You say breathless, and you laugh. He can feel it, the sound shuddering through him from where he was still deep inside you, and your giggles soon turned to something less innocent when you heard Frank groan into your chest. “C’mon. Someone’ll see us.”

“Don’t move yet.” He puts his hands on your waist, fanning them out to reach as much of you as possible.

“Mhmm.” It’s like your body gives out at his request, slumping forward and moulding into him like you were made to fit this way. This was what he was talking about. The way you fit together— something that should be out of the question for him fits so right. “I love you, too.”

“Mhmm.” He copies and feels you smile against his skin. His hands trail up your spine, tracing the line of bones lightly to leave goosebumps in his wake. “What time is it?”

“Who gives a fuck?” You mumble, the words half muffled into his neck.

“I want you to see the house in the light, but you wanna go at it blind, be my guest.” It takes you a second, a scoff coming out of you before you sit up abruptly, making him groan again.

“House? What house? Another safe house.” Frank couldn’t keep a secret to save his life when it came to you.

“It’s a house. Twenty minute drive from here.”

“But New Yorks not—“

“I know. Good thing we got cars, yeah?” Your eyebrows are crossed together, and Franks thumb slips over the small scar he left on your face. The movement shifts your gaze to something softer, and he feels the brush of your eyelashes on his finger as you blink up at him.

“You did it on purpose. It’s right in the middle.” You say softly. “Jesus, Frank. You didn’t have to… I mean you—“

“Take a breath. I didn’t buy it. Was a gift from the US Goverment. One thing those guys are good for is their money. I just picked the spot.” He could nearly hear the rave of your heart, and you crushed yourself into him, words hushed and mumbled into his ear, but they melt him to the core all the same.

He’ll never get over hearing you say things like this to him. That you’re grateful for him, that he’s doing a good thing. It’s like nothing he did before you was ever good enough. There was always the next job, always the next group to track, but nothing would be enough. There wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for him. But here you were, telling him that he was the reason you were gonna be alright, and if he squints he can see it. The flicker of something hopeful, and if he holds onto you as tight as he can, he might just live to see it light him on fire.

“Did you say… you said twenty minutes from here. Why didn’t we just wait until—“

“Would’ve ruined the surprise.” You laugh again, and the feeling has him gripping you tighter. He leans closer to whisper in your ear, his voice low. “And I wanted to fuck you here and now. Don’t want there to be a single fuckin’ surface where I ain’t had you.”

“Better get driving then, Castle. Sounds like you got a job to do.” The glint in your eye nearly makes him drag you outside and bend you over the hood, but the kiss you give him after is sickeningly sweet, so much so that he lets you slide off him and back into the passenger seat without so much as a nip of his teeth. “Tha–”

“Wait. Wait til you see it.” Frank said, and something about the way he looked at you had you nodding simply, and watching the trees race by as he sped you home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were asleep on the balcony again, and Frank moved as slow as he could to let you stay that way.

In the two weeks you’d been here, he could count on one hand how many times you’d actually slept in the bed. There were no neighbours for miles, nothing interrupting the stretch of sky all the way to the hills. Even Frank had to admit it was a killer view.

He came inside, pouring himself a drink, and a strange pit in his stomach settled after the burning liquid soothed his throat. He can’t seem to kick that feeling when you’re asleep. When you were awake, next to him, there wasn’t anything else he could think about. But alone, walking around a house he owned, a life he might try and live staring him in the face, he felt guilty. There were parts of him he wouldn’t ever get back, but this wasn’t something he thought he’d ever have. Peace and quiet, time to himself. A woman he loved within eyesight, buried under blankets cause she was too stubborn to come inside when it got freezing. He couldn’t figure out why now, of all times, was the time to be thinking of Maria. The weight of the ring around his neck was like an anchor. He knew it was stuck on the bottom of the ocean, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go. He would sit there, hand cut up and bleeding, holding on for dear fucking life if no one moved him, waiting until he drowned.

Your footsteps were soft, in a way that he knows you can’t help. You tread through the open double doors, and Frank would roll his eyes at the way he could hear your teeth chattering if he wasn’t so distracted.

“You should of woke me.” You say, voice muffled from the mess your head was buried under. He took a step toward you, pushing it back so he could see your eyes.

“It’s late.”

“Couldn’t tell.” He can hear the smirk in your voice.

“You finally frozen to death, smart-ass?” You grumble something in reply, and he catches a few curse words before you look at him again. It’s nearly scary, the way you can read him with one sweep of your eyes. You clock his tone, the way he isn’t leaning into you with his full weight, and squint your eyes.

“What is it?” Frank sucks in a long breath, and kisses you.

He’s a complete idiot. That’s what it is. He can feel the buzzing pulse you wake in him, every movement of your lips on his rooting you deeper in his soul, chipping off ice until theres only warmth. How’s he supposed to tell you, after you’ve just kissed him like that, that he was thinking about his–

“You can talk to me about her, Frank.” You say with your head against his. Not it, her. Before he can ask, you smile a little. Even just a hint of that smile and he’s forgetting how to breathe. “You play with the ring when you’re nervous. It’s actually a bit of a tell.”

“Yeah?” He manages, hands trying to search their way through the blankets for you.

“Yeah. You have a lot of tells. For someone in your line of work, it’s actually a bit worrying.”

“You got me all figured out.” He says and means it, but you just roll your eyes.

“And you lean to the left when you think you can’t make a shot. You think it helps your angle.”

“Who woulda thought you were so observant.”

“You know, I actually did watch you when you were teaching me how to shoot.” Frank smiles, your skin finally under his palms. His hands splay on your back, and you lean closer.

“You were trying to fuck me the whole time. Don’t blame me for being surprised.” You try to whack him but your arms are pinned under the layers. Your laughter carries through him, skittering into his chest until he can’t help but laugh too.

“You came onto me.” He laughs harder. “It was very unprofessional. I was there to learn.”

“Damn fucking right I did.” His voice is low, and you shuffle around under his hold until your hands snake up behind his neck. His hair is too long, but he hasn’t cut it just yet. He tells himself that he hasn’t had time, but truthfully he likes the way it feels when you sift your fingers through the ends of it. Like now.

“You can tell me.” You say again, softer. He’s softer too– more malleable now you were here.

“I can’t help it.” He looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to where the sun is now just starting to rise. “She woulda… woulda liked it here. The kids, too.”

“You think so?” He nods, still staring into the orange sky.

“Probably would of had a lot to say about the inside, though.” You wrap around him tighter, head on his chest. “She was so good with those things. She loved when we painted our house. She had all these colors painted next to each other on the wall. All these different kinds of green. Everyone kept sayin’ it all looked the same but she... she could tell the difference. I could see what she meant when she put the couch next to it and shit, you know? She was real good with that stuff.”

“We could use her help around here. This place is sort of… ugly, on the inside.” He laughed again, his throat feeling tighter as he looked around. There was those same colour swatches, but none of them were coordinated like he was remembering. Pinks, blues, oranges and grays were all mixed together in big, sweeping strikes along the wall, stopping right above where your arm would be able to reach. “What would she have gone with?”

He looks down at you, your face washed in the light of the sunrise.

“The light orange. It looks good with the brown.” He nods over to the couch, an old leather one you’d made him pick up off the side of the road.

“We’ll do that one, then.” You tuck yourself under his chin, sighing.

“I think about ‘em everyday. What the kids would have looked like now. What they’d be doing. How Maria and I would of… raised ‘em. I was away all the time, but I just-”

“I think you would have been just fine.” You say into his chest, and Frank takes a shuddering breath.

“Why’s that?“

“Cause she was in love with you.” His chest tightens, and the grip he’s got on your waist gets a little tighter. “I’m… I’ll never be able to fix…that. It’ll always be with you, and nothing will change what happened, but I want you to know that they will always have a place here. You don’t have to apologize for talking about them– the kids, or Maria. I will never, ever not listen, and it will never be something I don’t want to hear. If they’re always with you, they’ll be with me, too.”

Frank takes two steps forward, and your feet pick up just in time to catch yourself before he throws you back on the couch. He’s never been good with words for things like this. He doesn’t think he should try to shove it all in a sentence, either. Not when theres so much he wants to say, but even more he wants to do.

You lay back, and he moves slowly. He wants you to know every move, every brush of his hand and his mouth is by design. He wants to know every square inch of you inside and out like you know him. He wants his hands to pull the strings, letting you hear all the things his mouth could never possibly form.

“Perfect.” Frank sighs against your mouth, over and over again. It was. You were. Are. The pit in his stomach disappears, pushed out and engulfed by the flames in his chest. There was no room for anything, not a single other feeling or word could possibly fit the way you two fit together. Your fingers tug at his shirt, and he takes it over his head. Your hands run and smooth gentle lines over his chest, over the healing wound on his side. It's jagged and wonky, and it nearly spelt your name. Frank thinks it’s the first time he’s looked down at himself and not hated to see the scars.

He unravels you like a gift to himself, savouring every moment even when you try to shrug off the blanket. You hadn’t dressed since last night, and Frank liked it even more this way. You sighed his name, and Frank shuddered, sealing his mouth over yours again. When his eyes opened for a split second, he could see your face, washed in orange light, and your hair swept to the side. He shut his eyes and kissed you again, the image seared into his mind forever.

Frank had faced a lot of bad things in his life. He had been shot, stabbed, pulled apart and put back together more times than he could remember. He thought he’d seen it all, felt it all before, but there was nothing like this. Nothing made him as weak as your fingers in his hair, and nothing made him as strong as the way you moaned his name. Nothing felt as good as sliding inside you, and nothing felt as empty as when you were gone. It made him lightheaded and brought him to the brink of consciousness, but he knew that this was right.

It could of been minutes or hours that had passed when he let himself go, but no amount of time with you under him would stop him from wanting more. The sun was up now, and Frank had you tucked to his side on the small space of the couch, legs tangled together in the blankets and each other. He felt you shiver against him, and the blankets wrapped around you had come loose. He bent to fix them, and when he moved you did it again.

He looked down, seeing the cold line of metal pressed against your bare back. The ring at the end was hanging over your ribs, and when Frank touched it, it was freezing. Holding it in his palm, it didn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and when he read the engraving on the back, he still felt cold.

Looking down at you, how you rolled over and sought him out even with your eyes closed, he leaned down to kiss the scar on your forehead. Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, he slipped the necklace off over his head, and placed it in a neat circle on the coffee table next to his head.

They would always have a place here. But it wasn’t them who gave him warmth anymore.

When he tucked himself back under the covers, he knew it was you. It was always you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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okay theres going to be an epilogue at some point, but it will probably be small and have very little plot, so this is the end of the main story. so, heres a little rant for you. if you read it, thank you, and if you dont, thank you anyways. knowing anyone is reading my words is a gift enough.

i think i have been writing this series for like 5/6 months ish?? thats fucking wild. i dont have an exact word count, but all i know is its fucking long. i cannot believe i wrote this much about a fictional character, but damn. that is a lot.

basically all i want to say here is thank you. to anyone who has read, interacted, or will read in the future, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it might be a lil dramatic but having people read stuff i write, let alone actually enjoy it makes me so incredibly happy. starting to write on here, and for frank especially, is probably one of the best decisions ive ever made. this series was a struggle to finish for so many reasons, mainly my incredible lack of planning and overall dumb writing schedule, but i have met so many incredible people along the way, and i am just so grateful to have a lil space to share my work.

frank castle will probably always own a giant spot in my heart, so thank you for letting me share my version of him. and letting me add as much smut as i want to this with no complaints bc i fuckin needed it okay!!!!!! i love you all. rant over. series over. damn!

p.s. i am never not going to write frank. dont worry. i already have an idea for my next series lmao!!!!!!!! luv ya!

[ewsean]

As an active validation seeker, I wanted to post my current WIP for an upcoming Ghostbusters cross Spiderman fic? I've never once written Fanfic before (at least that I can remember?) and I wanted to take it to Tumblr to get the general community opinion. Fic Intro / Snippet Below !! (Is this something you'd be interested in reading? Feel free to ask question about it too ?? I'm just here to share my shit really LOL)

Raymond Stantz was your normal New York student. No really, he was! He attended Columbia University, went out on the weekends with his friends, worked an honest part-timer down at a Comic Book Store about a subway’s stop away from his dorm. He was all completely normal- normal bar one thing.

He was New York’s one and only Spiderman.

And while you’ve probably heard that a lot before, Ray Stantz really was New York’s one and only Spiderman, and had been since he was 15 when an unfortunate incident had happened during an after-school science experiment that had gone wrong. He’d told himself to never feed untested food to insects without studying the ingredients, but curiosity got the best of him, and the rest was history.

It was less than ideal, really. It wasn’t like he had chosen this life. It was almost like destiny, or fate, as his close friend Peter would tell him. That was another thing that was less than ideal- Peter’s involvement. Ray had sworn to himself to never tell anyone, not even his parents, out of fear they thought he was absolutely nuts, or worse, got affected by his status as a ‘Hero’. Friends had been hard to keep throughout his High School life, despite his outgoing and bubbly personality. College wasn’t any different, until he hit the jackpot with one Peter Venkman. Peter would claim Ray attached himself to him, but truth be told, it was the other way around.  They found themselves as roommates in the first year and grew closer as friends the longer they spent together. It was hard to keep his secret identity hidden from his incredibly nosy friend, and it was only a matter of time before Peter found him out. All he could do was pray it wasn’t anytime soon. It was probably because Ray didn’t believe in any higher power that his prayers did not get answered, and three months into their friendship the bomb was dropped.

“Didn’t take you as a midnight bachelor, Stantzie.” Came Peter’s smooth and sleazy voice in the dark. Ray froze in his spot, one foot halfway through the window of their bathroom. It may be dark, but Ray swears he can see the mischievous twinkle in Pete’s eyes as his shit-eating grin expands, “Nice costume. Wanna tell me where you’ve been?”

Part of Ray thoroughly believes that if he stands still long enough holding his breath, Peter will get bored of waiting for an answer and fall back into his bed to sleep the night away. There’s no luck in this though, as his best friend’s voice carries through the air, accusatory, “Stop holding your breath, idiot. I can see you. I’m not mad.”

That was a good thing, at least? Ray was clutching at positives here, because in this very moment, all he could see was negative scenario after negative scenario. He always had had a problem with acting impulsively and dreading to deal with the consequences of his actions afterwards. “Stantz.” It’s met with silence. “Ray. Raymond, hello? Come on, you’re going to fall over.”

Well, if Peter wasn’t going to let this slide, he might as well let his body fall with the sweet release of gravity, finally pulling his other leg inside the building from the window and collapsing onto the floor in a large heap, softly groaning out at the abrupt hit of the ground.

“You’re a moron, you know that, right?” “Yeah .. You tell me every few days, Pete. I can’t forget.” Ray responds, though his words are muffled and it causes Peter to strain his hearing, finally getting up from his bed to pad into the bathroom where his friend laid, defeated. 

For a moment, they sat on the bathroom floor together, each contemplating what to say next. There were a lot of words that needed to be exchanged, but neither man could quite figure out how to get them out. For once in his life, Peter Venkman was stunned into silence. Ray would not be the first to speak first, subconsciously zip-locking his lips and throwing the key away into some dark cavern of his brain. The burden fell to Peter to speak once more.

And speak he did.

“So … I gotta’ find a new favourite Hero now that I found out mine was you after all this time.” 

Why was he like this .. ?

“Spiderman’s your favourite?” Ray asks, hopeful, chin tilting upwards just enough to peer out from the crook in his arms that he’d buried his head previously into to avoid Peter’s expectant look. 

“Was. Remember, I just said I needed to find a new one.” Ray knows Peter’s only joking, because he says it with that light tone of his and his eyebrows soften, a look Peter reserves for Ray and a handful of other people. With a study pat on his shoulder, Peter is up and hauling Ray to his feet, “Alrighty, pal. Let’s get you to bed. Seems like it’s been a rough night.” Ray can only snort. If Pete had any idea what he’d gone through. 

“Yeah. Thanks Pete, we’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

But they never did. Not like Peter hadn’t tried; In fact, it had become almost a daily occurrence. Ray couldn’t leave the dorm room without being asked where he was going, who he was seeing, or what trouble New York City had found itself in. Even waking up for class early, or to go study with a few of his classmates, Peter was hot on his tail, ready to catch any action that arose. The action never arose, though, at least not in Peter’s vicinity. And at least, not for a good three weeks.

[arxiel]

CRIMSOM THUNDER

Rolan x F!Tav

BACK --- NEXT

Chapter 6: Amentia

Rating: Mature (Strong content and blood)

Words Count: 6.426

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER INDEX

Or... read Bellow

Sleepless hours passed and the sound of the fire didn't help to organise his mixed feelings: sadness... anger...

hatred? 

love? 

All those mixed thoughts were driving him to the edge of madness, he had to think about it calmly, but everything would gather together and it would overwhelm him completely. 

Rolan carefully got up to look for Yvainne who was lying looking at the empty sky of darkness with a bottle of wine next to her in the centre of their camp. 

The smell of cedar, flowers and blueberries was all around her, bringing back memories of that night at the waterfall. Making his feelings even more complicated.  

"Are you okay?" she asked before getting up. The spell had faded immediately.  "I'm perfectly fine." Rolan replied, trying to look into her eyes. 

"You look overwhelmed..." She would say with a concerned tone. "Just overwhelmed? It must have been a big surprise with everything I've been through so far." Rolan's sarcastic tone caused her to be startled. 

Realizing he'd shake his head, it was more complicated than he'd thought. 

"I'm sorry, I just... don't want to be alone. And seeing as you've saved me..." He sighed his words looking at the ground. 

"'Well, you see... I think you deserve to know this... Lia and Cal are brother and sister, but I don't share blood with them. 

And before you say anything else, no, I don't remember anything about my real family, I stopped wondering about that until I met my real family.... 

I've spent years alone, searching for food trying to survive until that day someone showed compassion for me... 

Since then, along with Lia and Cal, I haven't been alone anymore, our mother gave everything to make sure that we never lacked anything and that we lived happily...  

We three of us were inseparable, even in Elturel. That damned day I received the letter of acceptance from Lorroakan and then disaster struck. 

That complicated me even more, as you can imagine I spent years taking care of them, working and studying everything for them, because I promised her to look after them and I didn't make it...  

They rushed to the cultists to let me protect the children and run away.....  

I blame myself completely for being the first to fight to make others run away and they both followed my lead....  

That's why I wanted to go to Moonrise alone, because everything was my fault and they are my responsibility, because I'd give my life and soul to save them". 

Rolan interrupted himself as he looked at Yvainne whose eyes had glazed over. He needed to let out his sorrows, his chest felt less heavy as he told her.  

"I'm sorry, I'm tired of this, of everything..." Rolan looked down with shame, she slowly approached him to give him an unquestioning embrace, he hadn't expected such approach. 

It had crossed his mind to immediately push her away and leave, but his own impulse decided to return the same embrace. 

"You're too hard on yourself... Please enough." A worried, monotonous tone could be heard from her lips.   

"Forgive me, of course, someone like you wouldn't know...." Rolan closed his eyes to take a deep breath and sink his gaze close to Yvainne in her embrace.  

"I know well how it is... I lost my family and I grew up under the rule of the one who condemned them for many years until fleeing with the hunters... Of course I know how you feel..." Rolan opened his eyes at her answer, but did not pull out of her arms. 

"I should stop opening my mouth..." He would be embarrassed by his own words, Yvainne wordlessly prolonged to hug until he felt that his heart would be completely calm. 

Although they both felt that moment eternal, it was absolutely intimate, those moments of silence in their embrace. The tiefling's tail would begin to encircle her, but without touching her. 

"I will save them... I promise." A terrible sleep came upon the tiefling, before he realized that she would have used the sleeping spell on him. Yvainne tried to keep him on his feet to make him lie down on her mat to sleep near the fire. 

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

Slight daylight and conversations in the middle of the camp would awaken Rolan, disconcerted. 

"Yvainne you little..." Rolan rise up slightly annoyed, she used a sleeping spell on him without his consent and worse, avoiding any further commentary on their time together. 

"Wow, I didn't think it would take that long to work, or you were really exhausted." Shadowheart's snooty voice captured his attention, Rolan's eyebrow arched in confusion. 

"Oh, I think she's overdone it..." Shadowheart examined his eyes closely, Rolan moved to stand up. 

"You knew she would put me to sleep," Rolan snapped, forcing his gaze up. 

"It was everyone's decision to be honest, to prevent you going back to moonrise," Rolan stared at her even more confused than before, it hadn't crossed his mind to try it again. 

"And we'll escort you back to the inn." Gale walked over to give Rolan some coffee, which he automatically refused. 

In a short time, Scratch and the owlbear cub arrived running around the camp in a playful mood. The dog had seen him during the tiefling party in the grove, but the owlbear would be new to him, it seems that she really likes to shelter those in need. 

"Where's she?" They would both avoid his question and set about packing up camp. 

"Chk, you know it's useless not telling him anything, I'm not going to play your games," Lae'zel would approach with a scowl. 

"She's in moonrise... she decided to go to rescue the prisoners. She has left with Astarion, Wyll and Karlach" Gale sighed in anguish. 

The tiefling's heart would shrink at hearing the truth, but it was clear that if her companions would escort him to the inn, it would be to prevent him from going out on another adventure into the shadows. 

At least having the blade of the frontiers and the infernal champion would ensure her safety, although with Astarion he would still have that insecure vibe. 

"Impressive, we expected a different reaction, you're not such an empty-head after all." Lae'zel would cross her arms before heading off to gather her belongings. 

"I know when I'm outmatched" replied Rolan, folding his arms.

Eventually the members of the camp would make their way to the inn to set up camp just outside of the inn, and once the camp was set up Rolan made his way to the inn with uncertainty, Gale accompanying him. 

"I don't think they'll be too happy to see me," flashed through his mind. He had been horrible with the survivors after that fateful day, it would be normal for the tieflings to treat him the same way for acting like a jerk. 

"Many things on your mind?" The tiefling would snap out of it at the sound of the human's voice. 

"Let's say that Yvainne wasn't the only one I hurt with my words." Rolan sighed in regret for what he had done in his drunkenness. 

"I don't justify your attitude, but with all this, I think anyone would lose their mind, but the good thing is you recovered your way." Rolan inhaled lightly to lose the fear of putting a step to enter the inn. 

"Rolan!" A familiar voice pulled him out of his frightless thoughts, it was Alfira, she had a relieved expression in her eyes. 

"You're alive! The only thing we knew was that Yvainne was going to look for you," Rolan looked at the situation stunned, unsure of what to say. 

"Rolan spent a few days in our camp to plan how to infiltrate Moonrise, and right now she went to rescue the prisoners." Gale stepped in, avoiding the part that would embarrass Rolan, he nodded in gratitude. 

"Thank goodness, you both must be hungry, we can wait in the bar if you'd like..." Rolan and Gale nodded silently to move on to the inn, with Alfira explaining what Gale had said it would make Rolan's presence less awkward. 

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

After successfully gaining access to the gates of the moonrise towers and meeting the famous Ketheric Thorm, who would be giving the death sentence to Minthara, the Drow who was leading the assault into the grove. She would be taken to where the prisoners' cells would be. 

With the sentences finished and dealt with the Goblins who pleaded for their freedom, the group headed for the dungeons. 

Yvainne stealthily entered the room where they would be torturing Minthara to change her, she would feel her agony with the tadpole . Parts of her memories would be seen by her, she realized the manipulation behind the cult, and they were breaking her mind to turn her into a puppet of the Absolute. 

She gave the signal to Astarion to perform together a stealth kill to save the drow. 

"Have you lost your mind?! She tried to kill us." Karlach covered Astarion's mouth to avoid making more noise. 

"I agree with Astarion, why would you want to do that?" Wyll tried to persuade Yvainne to stop her from doing something even more stupid. 

"She'll be good for us as an ally, I saw her memories, she's furious, she's been manipulated - Now let's make quick work of this so that no guard will be alerted, look for the others, now." Yvainne silenced the group with her firm decision. Astarion sighed, he couldn't deny her anything anymore, after all she  treated the vampire humanely by not letting him bite the Drow alchemist who yearned to be bitten by him.

It owed her more than anything, it made him grow a genuine affection that would not easily be lost.

"On command my dear." Astarion and Yvainne drew their daggers at the same time to sneak closer to the two torturers. 

When they got close enough, she gave the signal and both would pass the daggers through the neck for a quick exsanguination. 

Both fell leaving free a confused Minthara. She immediately kicked both corpses with extreme fury before turning to Astarion and Yvainne. 

"I thought it was the real end of me, those bastards betrayed me... I joined the absolute, obeying the voice of its deity. I thought I had found a home... a purpose... but I owe you my life and my eternal gratitude..." Minthara's broken voice made her true feelings clear, the artifact she would bring with her allowed to connect with her to connect their minds and show all that had happened, all the truth that she would accept without question, she had no choice. 

Astarion brought his lips close to Yvainne's ear to whisper to her. 

"I understand your good will, but if we're going to rescue those useless tieflings, I doubt they'll be happy to see who you're taking... " She nodded and reached into her bag for an invisibility potion; her duty here wasn't over, but she couldn't leave Minthara alone while she accompanied the tieflings. Yvainne passed her a map with the location of the camp, hoping that her companions would not harm her and take her in.  

Minthara drink from the potion to head in haste before the guards noticed the escape of an even more dangerous fugitive. 

Yvainne's team would gather once more to make their way through the cells. Until in the distance she spotted a couple of familiar faces, Cal and Lia. 

She breathed a sigh of relief to see them alive, but in a terrible state. She returned her gaze to her companions to give them a clear instruction to distract the guards so she could converse with them and investigate if there was any way to open the cells. 

With the guards distracted she walked slowly towards them, hoping that they would be glad to see a familiar face with them. 

Their faces looked haggard from lack of sleep, their skins were bruised and scratched. They seemed distracted trying to listen to what was going on in continuous cells until they noticed Yvainne's presence. They didn't seem at all glad to see her, and their eyes showed the same displeasure that Rolan showed before. 

Lia approached aggressively and Cal stopped her grabbing her arm. 

"Let me guess... - ‘Absolute is the only way.’ Don't bother." Lia spat in disgust. "Why don't you and Zevlor take a long walk off a short cliff?" her heart skipped a beat at the despicable words towards that leader. From the inn the refugees turned to him in pain, she would not blame them, they felt betrayed. 

"Listen to me, Rolan is alive. He's in Last light inn..." Yvainne mentioned them in a low voice to avoid attracting attention, the exhausted eyes of both would gleam with hope. 

"He made it? He's all right?" Lia's voice started to crack, Cal let out a long sigh of relief. 

"Told you. He's too stubborn to die." Cal hugged his sister tightly. 

"If you're not at the Absolute's beck and call, why are you here?" Lia turned to see her with a worried look on her face. 

"I thought it was obvious, I came to keep my promise, do you know something else...?" Lia smiled at Yvainne's determination. 

"Gnomes next door are up to something. They've been whispering like mad." Cal turned his gaze to the continuous cells as an indication. 

"Let's make it quick before the necromancer returns, please, there's only four of us left." Cal would take Yvainne's hand and she grabbed his hand to calm him with her determined gaze. 

"Tell it to the other tieflings, I won't leave them here, we're all leaving here even if it costs my life." She continued towards the cell leaving both brothers to get ready. 

Astarion, Karlach and Wyll approach Yvainne with news from the surrounding area. 

"Well, what do you have for me?'" Yvainne's words showed caution in case anyone overheard them. 

"I spoke to the gnomes, their leader Wulbren have an escape plan, there's a boat behind the wall, it looks like it was one of the old escape tunnels and they're willing to help the tieflings escape, but we need his hammer." Wyll mentioned pointing towards the door of the Warden's office of the prison. 

"Well, the bad news is that they are a lot of guards and they seem to be devoted paladins, it's going to be terrible if a fight breaks out here." Karlach mentioned with a thoughtful tone. 

"The levers for the cells are in the office, the good thing is that I got his hammer back." Astarion pulled out Wulbren's hammer. 

"That... was fast... what did you do?" Astarion just smiled mischievously at Yvainne's question. 

The Warden immediately stormed out of the office in a fury. It was to be expected that the fidgety Astarion stole the prisoners' belongings to make a small fortune, although in the team this was how they got gold, but in this case it was riskier, she quickly passed the hammer to Wyll to make Wulbren's plan go into action. 

In any case, thanks to their pale friend, they will have to get rid of them in the hardest way. 

She pulled out of her pocket her precious hairpin gifted to her by that tiefling who was in her thoughts at the time, she tied her hair into a ponytail. Astarion and Karlach looked at her hairstyle, impressed by her face. 

"Gods you are beautiful." Yvainne choked on her own spit at Astarion's comment, it wasn't the time or the place for such comments. 

"You should leave it like that much longer, you precious porcelain doll." Karlach touched Yvainne's cheeks.  

"You three, what are you doing here?! There's been a theft here and I demand to know who did it." The Warden looked at the three of them furiously, Yvainne waved his fingers behind his back to indicate that they should get ready. 

She looked around to distract her long enough to try to stab her in the stomach with one of his daggers. 

But another of the guards spotted Wyll passing that hammer between the bars. 

Yvainne quickly made an attempt to kick the Warden to make her fall to the void but missed. 

"Shit Wyll I should have done that job myself slippery fingers." Scolded Astarion letting out his bow to shoot some of the guards. 

"Let the game begin babe." Karlach pulled out her trusty axe to attack another of the guards fiercely.

Wulbren easily broke the wall to pass through to the other side, the Warden turned around to make way for the opening of the cells to open them and finish off the prisoners. 

Yvainne jumped on top of her to stop her from advancing any further. Between the two of them, they struggled to the death to break free of her grasp. Until Yvainne was under the grasp of the cultist who already had both hands firmly around her neck, the warden had even more strength than her and with all her might she tried to pull her hands away from her neck trying to reach her eyeballs in an attempt to break her grip, but she couldn't reach out and touch her. 

"We really don't care about keeping these prisoners alive, we do it to please the damn necromancer... But he won't care if anything happens to them," The warden pressed hard on Yvainne's neck making her breathing more difficult, she took advantage of her hate speech to desperately try to claw her face with extreme force to distract it with her own pain to break free from her grasp. 

Yvainne breathed a deep gasp of air as she let go as she reacted to the wound on her face. She tried to get up to deal a final strike, but one of the guards casted hunger of hadar spell, making her unable to see and being hurt by the spell. 

With her fine hearing she identified the opening of the cells, however it was foolish to try to run in the dark, she might fall off the bridge heading to her own death.  

‘’More guards are coming, Astarion, Karlach go to protect the tieflings, I'll try to break that bastard's concentration.‘’ Wyll's voice would help Yvainne try to locate herself, she carefully moved forward trying to hold off the damage of the spell. 

The noises of the tough battle didn't help her orientation very much, but she was doing her best to try to listen for another sound through her fine ears.

"Yvainne!! listen to our voices, if you hear us we are over here don't fall into the void." Lia's voice would be most helpful, she stepped forward slightly faster until, the spell was gone. 

The shock from receiving all the light took her some time to react, she was almost at the end of the bridge towards the gnome's cell, there were Cal and Lia armed to help. But their determined looks said it all.

She didn't like the idea of them again trying to help, they did enough saving the refugees they could. 

But then suddenly the determined expressions from both brothers changed to absolute terror. 

A sharp stab of pain was felt across her back, as she glanced down at her stomach she noticed her leather armour cracked by the tip of an arrow from a crossbow that had pierced from her back. On impulse she'd touch the arrow stuck out to try and break it and pull it out. 

‘YVAINNNE!’ They shouted in unison, her gaze flicking to the warden who was reloading her crossbow ready to take another deadly shot. 

"In the end your effort was in vain, but at least you will see them die under my crossbow, you tainted blood." The Warden's venomous voice made her even angrier, she stepped hastily to draw her own arrow from Yvainne's back to provoke a quick exsanguination. 

She fall to her knees to press down on the pit of her stomach hard, but her blood loss was getting stronger, making her vision blurry. 

‘’Hang on. You're not dying. Not on my watch.’ Karlach's worried voice would be heard trying to struggle and advance towards to help her. 

"No, you can't die. Get up damn you!" Astarion's anguished voice would barely hear an echo. The blood loss was already critical, she needed a healing potion as soon as possible, however she was so weak that her fingers hardly brushed against the mouth of her pouch.  

It never crossed in her mind to die on a cold floor attempting to rescue Tieflings and Gnomes from prison. She had always thought about death when she had closed the eyes forever of that wizard who had made her suffer. 

But now death finally seemed to reach her shoulder to reunite her with her family in a short time. 

But deep down she thought that this was not going to be her end, not yet.

Her desirous heart wished to see Rolan's reaction to see his siblings again....  

She wished with all her heart to help finish off the cultists to be that heroine they cheered from the grove. 

"Not now, not after all you've been through.... You must do it, I know you don't like it, but you have no choice!" Wyll's echoing voice would make her senses resonate. 

"This is not my end..." It flashed through her mind trying to force her eyes to try to get up again. 

If she really want to live... she must resort to the magic she had been forced to do when she was under the thrall of her master. 

She saw her younger version of herself in front of her, without hair and with Thayan makeup with dark reddish tones, dressed in a robe crimson like her blood, her version when she was with her master eager to take advantage of her power. 

A dark aura filled the bridge, Yvainne would rise with the wound closing with dark eyes and her skin filled with symbols with a red glow. 

‘clamate ad me’ 

As she spoke such words the warden would begin to scream in agony as Yvainne would gesture extending her hand. She had removed her skin like any other piece of clothing, the other guards focused their attention on hurting Yvainne and even if they succeeded she regenerated almost fast as Ketheric Thorm, panicked among them to trying deliver physical strikes to which the damage rebounded, similar to armor of Agathys causing their deaths by necrotic damage. 

"By Balduran's bones..." Wyll watched horrified at the magic. 

"I don't think I'll ever bother her again, I don't want to lose this beauty skin..." Astarion took a step away. 

"What's happening to her?! Yvainne!" Lia attempted to approach, but would be stopped by Karlach. 

Lia and Cal looked shocked at the scene, she didn't look like that Yvainne they had met in the grove, not even her own brother Rolan's magic was matched, she was so much stronger in their eyes. 

"Soldier it's all over!" Yvainne will let herself fall, her rune marks still dormant. Her eyes looked at the scene she had caused; the tadpole had limited her abilities, but being on near death had caused her to release her power to save herself from the mortal wound, only her armour was marked with evidence that it had been pierced. 

"You did the right thing, these people didn't deserve mercy, it's all right." Wyll stepped forward to comfort Yvainne who remained in shock. 

She had promised herself that to never use Thayan magic again, it was a twisted and cruel magic. 

A magic that her master had forced her to learn for his own benefit. 

She coughed loudly leaving her hand stained with blackened blood making clear her price for using Thayan magic to regenerate herself.

When she turnered around she saw her party and the siblings worried for her well being, her eyes blurred as she looked at them all. 

"I will understand if I am considered a monster after this..." Yvainne stood up addressing her words to Cal and Lias who seemed frightened of what happened. 

"I will strangle you with the chains if you ever belittle yourself like that again." Lia grabbed Yvainne's arm. 

"You saved us and the rest of us here, that proves more what you are than those magic." Cal would grab Yvainne's opposite arm, their words would make her heart shrink.  

"Oww that's sweet! Can we get the hell out of here before any more guards come?" Astarion's voice was interrupted by a smack from Wyll and a laugh from Karlach. 

Everyone went down the escape tunnel, there was a boat standing nearby. 

The tieflings, gnomes and Yvainne's party boarded the boat to sail to the last light's inn. 

The siblings snuggled on Yvainne's shoulders during the journey, Lakrissa and Danis watched the towers getting further and further away, The gnomes focused on rowing. 

Karlach watched the sweet scene as Wyll did it too, and Astarion scraped the dirt from his fingernails with his knife. 

The silence reigned in the boat, everyone seemed to have been through so much while they were imprisoned, the darkness seemed almost more welcoming than the cold cells of moonrise. 

Yvainne looked anguished by what happened, she would have died if she hadn't resorted to Thayan magic. She hated having too many details about it.

Although that magic is very useful in the battle to come, she must control enough of it but must also avoid being severely wounded in combat so as not to resort to the painful magic of regeneration.  

Only her pain would disappear if she let herself die and then concentrate all her power essence into one object to keep herself alive, although she would slowly become an undead putrid.

As the raft was docked everyone would disembark, and one of the harpists will come speeding towards them. 

"Stop there! You can't just dock and disembark strangers like that.... There are protocols." Yvainne rolled her eyes, not wanting to go through another process like Jaheira did. 

She moved aside to let the harpist make sure the people weren't infected. 

"There's no need to fear, they just want to do a check-up." the old prisoners relaxed their posture and lined up for the procedure. 

"If you like, go to the bar or to the camp, I have some things to attend here, I'll see you in the evening." Wyll and Karlach nodded and started on their way. 

But Astarion didn't move, an unusual attitude coming from him. 

"Odd, you're usually the first to leave when I'm going to talk about heroics things with other people." Yvainne turned to Astarion with a wry smile. 

"Heh... it's something more I want to discuss with you before you go witness a cloying family reunion." Astarion took by the hand to lead Yvainne away, but they'd keep an eye out if they were done with the inspection. 

Astarion's conversation would turn to a burden he carried: what he did to attract victims, and being separated from his master and afraid for his safety he planned many times to charm her to gain his security, but her rejection and their closeness kept him confused and even more when she protect him from that Drow that wanted to force Astarion to drink her blood. Now he genuinelly adore her and consider her a wonderful person despite everything.  Yvainne affectionately took his hands to tell him that she considers him one of her most trusted friends and that is what he needs after he has spent two hundred years making lovers against their will and handing them over to his cruel old master. 

Astarion let out tears after a long time and hugged her tightly, no one had ever considered him a friend or at least did not remember him as well as his eye colour or his own parents. She warmly returned the embrace. 

"Even though the compliments in the past was all lies to try to cajole you, this time I told you the truth back in the cells." Yvainne let out a soft chuckle at Astarion's confession. 

"At everyone's request, I'll get my hair up then." She broke the embrace, still smiling at Astarion. 

"Well I'll leave you, I'm going to the camp, well if we still have any left since you decided to let Minthara in... oh by the gods..." Astarion looked up at the sky thinking of the worst case scene with her on the team. At the end he placed one of his cold hands on Yvainne's head in an affectionate gesture. 

"Later you can tell me what happened, little flea. - Without all the cloying details." Astarion gave one last mischievous smile before leaving her alone. 

Cal and Lia tapped Yvainne's shoulder, who gave a start, but at the end she was glad to see them calmed down compared to the cells. 

Together would make their way up the stairs to the inn. 

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

The hours Rolan would spend alone in the bar seemed endless, as the wizard of waterdeep had called him to an emergency in the camp.  

His distracted and disturbed mind kept him from being able to concentrate again on his studies and the modification of magic, even apologising to the refugees he thought he would recover his concentration. 

They would offer him wine and ale, which he politely declined, something even the refugees would find strange about him. 

Rolan leaned against the bar immersed in his thoughts as it was the only thing he could do to wait for any news. He would spend ignoring his surroundings even when there seemed to be more noise than at earlier occasions in the bar. 

He couldn't stop thinking about the different possible scenarios of Yvainne saving or failing to save his brothers. 

He felt footsteps coming towards him. 

"Hey, arsehole." A very familiar voice brought him out of his troubled thoughts and his pulse quickened, making him jump to his feet. 

"Rolan..." As he turned his gaze he could see his two brothers, slightly wounded followed by Yvainne who seemed to have had a hard fight with the armor ripped from her stomach and blood in her hair. 

"Oh, thank the gods..." Rolan murmured to himself, tears were in his eyes, they are well, they are alive, but that happiness will be cut off by himself. 

Rolan scowled and turned to both brothers with a stern look. 

"Did you enjoy the glory of being heroes for five minutes instead of running away with the rest?! What were you thinking" Yvainne bowed her head, she didn't have in mind that the loving family reunion would end in a family feud. 

"I'm sorry we saved you from some murderous lunatics." Lia replied as fiercely as Rolan. 

"I thought you were dead, you ass. Both of you!" Rolan's anger and despair was coming out, the remnants of his depressed facade in the camp. 

"We're all safe, Rolan- that's what matters." Cal says relaxing his shoulders to calm his brother's attitude. 

"Rolan was in bad state without you two..." Rolan turned his gaze to Yvainne, his heart began to race as he saw her with the hairpin, he felt a lump in his throat that would be hard to disguise. 

There was no lie, he felt like the worst of men without his world. 

"It was just... overwhelmed. It doesn't matter..." Rolan kept his sad look on his face as he looked at his brothers who looked regretful. 

"I'm sorry... i just can't could stand back and do nothing... We should have followed you..." Rolan would shake his head at his sister's comment. 

"No, no... you two did the right thing. I shouldn't have shouted - I'm sorry..." Rolan approached his siblings giving them a tight hug. 

She moved a few paces away to better witness the touching moment before retreating. 

"Thank you - for saving me- And the two idiots." Cal would glance back at Yvainne. She smiled at his gratitude. 

They broke the hug, Lia and Rolan rubbed his eyes to prevent it from showing that they'd been crying from the familiar embrace. 

"You went out of your way to help us, it's only right you get something in return. I hope this is useful to you." Rolan grabbed her hand to give her a pouch of gold and she immediately pulled her hand away to avoid taking it. 

Rolan arched his eyebrow in total confusion at her behaviour.  

"Don't you dare act like a little girl. It's the best I can give you, don't be greedy" Rolan will try to take her hands again to give her the bag of gold, but she will raise her arms to prevent him from trying to do it. 

"I don't want to, it's alright, keep the gold, please." He would redden with shame for trying to pay her in thanks, in her word and posture he realized that there was no deception, she was really happy to help. His gaze paused for a moment at the opening in the armour at the level of his stomach. 

"Humble too? imagine that..." Lia smiled at her desicion.

"She has no cause to be humble, she brought us back together... a task i failed miserably at. I've been a real idiot and she didn't deserve it, so... please this is the least I can give you for all you've done for me, and for all of us..." Rolan reached out his hand with the bag of gold in an attempt to persuade her again. Yvainne closed Rolan's hand with the gold. 

"The hairpin is enough for me." Yvainne smiled as she pointed to the hairpin that he had given her the night before. 

At her comment Rolan remained static looking at her, his heart seemed to be about to burst, without realizing it his cheeks and stomach felt an impressive warmth. 

"Wouldn't you like to rest? After what you went through for us on Moonrise..." Yvainne would raise her hand to the Cal's comment as a sign for him to stop. 

"I'm fine, please, take your time with each other, I'll go to my camp and check that they haven't strangled themselves...." She would have left the inn leaving the three brothers in peace. 

Rolan watched her go, wanting to say more than a simple thank you for doing so much for him, but he wouldn't know how. 

Seeing his brother and sister he instinctively served food and passed them a couple of bottles of wine, their condition looked more deteriorated than his own, his heart felt broken at the sight of their wounds and they seemed more silent than usual. Normally they would have bothered him over her.  

"How bad was it? in Moonrise." Rolan's direct questions would cause his brothers to stand in awkward silence.

"Mind if we talk about that later, Rolan?" Cal's low voice was enough for him to understand that it was the worst thing they'd ever been through.

"Of course, of course! Take all the time you need, please have a meal..." Rolan stroked his brothers’ backs to make them eat some food. 

"heh... And I thought I was the mother hen..." Lia sipped some of the wine with a weak smile at Rolan's concern. 

Cal and Lia would fill their stomachs with grilled rothé ribs cooked by the harpists, Rolan could barely eat as he watched around him as the refugees reunited with their loved ones who were in Moonrise. 

Even Alfira declared her love to Lakrissa so that they would never be separated again, something that touched a lot in the inn. 

His attention snapped as Cal collapsed from exhaustion. Rolan immediately grabbed his brother's arm to support him with his own body to keep him on his feet. 

"Let's go to the rooms, you can rest better there." Lia and Cal nodded, Rolan led his siblings to one of the rooms that the harpers provided for the wounded in order for them to rest. 

"This accommodation leaves much to be desired, but it will suffice for now. - Here i still have your blanket." Rolan spread the blanket over his brothers to cover them. 

"Don't worry, it could be a lot worse, Rolan - trust us..." Lia's sad tone was enough to make him understand that he should change the subject so that they would forget the bad time in Moonrise. 

But he wouldn't know what to tell them, he hadn't seen them and it was obvious that asking them about the weather would make him look even more stupid. 

"Hey, Rolan .... when you said what Yvainne did for you..." Rolan thought at Cal's question. He would decide to tell them the truth. He'd been an idiot to the refugees, he'd drunk till he lost his mind from the pain, he'd chased Yvainne away when he tried to encourage him not to lose hope....  

And he'd mention his failed attempt to rescue them and being rescued by her. Not just physically rescuing him from being mortally wounded by the shadows if not emotionally, his short moment with her was enough to find some light in all the darkness. 

"Rolan, you idiot... You're crazy about her and you haven't realized it..." Cal snorted with laughter at Lia's comment. 

"Since the party in the grove, we know it..." Cal replied after chuckling a little. 

He looked to the side of his brothers bed to think, with all that was going on and his focus on learning he didn't give him time to concentrate on himself. 

"I can't allow myself to have those feelings right now, my destiny." Lia silenced her confused brother with a sound to interrupt him.

"Don't you dare to name your position as apprentice, you know that's not everything." Rolan bristled at Lia's comment, but would not reprimand him. 

"If you only knew what she went through for us and what she did for you, you have a chance, you fool." Rolan sighed heavily at his sister's words. 

"Yeah, long may love live, please can we sleep? I really can't...and I need to sleep..." Cal growled, Rolan would pat his two brothers back.

Rolan would get up quietly to head for the door. Leaving his brothers sleeping in bed, questioning in what condition they would have survived several days in those cold and horrible cells. 

But the words of his exhausted sister would keep him intrigued. 

‘What she went through for us’ And having looked at her condition she seemed exhausted from the fight, she was bloody and had a considerable perforation in her armour, but had no apparent wound. 

It wouldn't do any good pressing his brothers to inform him of what happened, but it would keep him on his toes for her. 

And more that Shadowheart wasn't there to heal her wounds fast enough. 

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BACK --- NEXT

CHAPTER INDEX

[bitbybitwrites]

It's been FOREVER since I've done one of these - I really am grateful to everyone who's been tagging me, even though I've been letting it slide doing this on time ( which is kind of well, my thing, isn't it 😂)

Its been a while - just time, inspiration and utter exhaustion have gotten in the way from really writing. I was finally able to finish one Klaine fic recently (yay!) - so I'm slowly plugging away at everything else I've got on the back burner.

Under the cut will be bits from If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - my Klaine fic that is approaching a year😳 since I started writing it! (Where the heck did the time go? 25 chapters and 102, 599 words later and I'm still plugging away at it!) Also an excerpt of the next chapter of Puppy Love - my sweet RWRB kid!fic. Can't wait to write more of this adorable story also!

Thanks for being patient with me folks and for reading my stuff and just tagging me in these things . . .💖💖💖

*****

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home (Klaine fic - Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang 2023) cc @datshitrandom

Kurt shook his head.  “I know.  You’re right, Maggie."  He took a deep breath.  “I guess I feel like an idiot.  I messed up something great and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.” “Nonsense,” Maggie huffed as she slid the box in her hand into the shopping cart.  “Let me tell you no couple is perfect together all of the time.  It’s hard.  It's hard work to get two people who can be so different to share a life together. And let me tell you Ralph and I were like oil and water on many occasions.” “She’s not wrong, “ Clara confirmed.  “Ma and Pop had some really big blowouts when I was a kid. Remember the cracked bowling ball argument?” Maggie snorted.  “Oh god and one about the fishing weekend he took with your Uncle Al and never thought to let me and your Auntie Anna know. Thought they were dead in a ditch somewhere.” Clara laughed along with her mother.  “And the hat - the one about your new hat that he thought . .” “Looked like a bird had died on my head.” Maggie cackled.  “Oh I was so insulted.  I loved that hat!” Clara wiped away a few tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes.  “At the time, it seemed like the end of the world. But it wasn't, not really.” “We never stayed mad for long.  And we worked it all out.” Maggie admitted, a wistful look in her eyes as she recalled all those moments. “I don’t know if he wants to talk to me anymore, Maggie.  That’s the problem.  I think I might have missed my chance.” Maggie took Kurt’s hand in hers and squeezed it firmly.  “You’re never going to know if you don’t try, Pillsbury.” “Talk to him, Kurt," Clara added.  “You owe yourself that, don’t you think?  Let him know how you really feel.  Talk about everything that's been bothering you . . and then, see what happens.” “I’m rooting for you, Pillsbury,”  Maggie told him softly.  “I’ve got a good feeling about you and Monty.” “We both do.” Clara chimed in.

****

Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic - RWRB NYE Gift Exchange 2023) - cc @omgbarbiegurl

Alex mostly operated on a “full-steam-ahead” way of living life.  He jumped off of cliffs - made big decisions and went with them, often with very little mulling over or introspection, basically throwing himself wholeheartedly into life.  Some of his family thought it was too reckless, too thoughtless, too rash. He preferred believing he was going with his gut instincts. Alex did that when decided to drop his law studies and go to vet school.  He did that when moved in with his last partner.  He went with his gut when he decided to adopt Raf,  and also when he made the decision to move to NYC to start a new chapter in his life and to start the animal rescue with June. So far, Alex couldn’t say he was disappointed with any of his impulsive life choices.  Well, he slightly wished that Jessica and him had ended on better terms. But he couldn’t dwell on it. She was the one who didn’t want to be a parent and that was a deal breaker for Alex. He refused to give Raf up and change his mind like she had after the fact. Alex loved his son with all that he had. It was him and Raf together till the end.  Alex was determined to make their new life in New York the best that it could be.  Having June and Nora alongside him for this adventure was comforting, and Alex couldn’t deny that they were keeping him grounded most of the time.  They knew his tendency to hyper focus and prodded him enough to keep him from doing it too much to the detriment of his family time with Raf.  But getting the rescue up off the ground was harder than they had expected. Even now after they had been established for quite some time, there were days whenthe siblings would wonder what they had gotten themselves into. Creating a business from scratch, juggling to manage everything and taking care of the animals as well was overwhelming and chaotic on most days. Spencer and Liam coming aboard last month was not only a pleasant surprise,  but a nice shot of relief for June and Alex. Certainly once the holidays were over it would be even easier. They could start to mange more realistic shifts at the rescue and begin to maintain some sort of normalcy with the extra help. Alex would be the first to admit that whenever prioritizing his life, even with his chaotic schedule, Raf came first, then his work and then . . well his personal needs and wants last.   After he and Jessica had parted, Alex pushed any thoughts of dating - or even random hook ups out of his mind. There really was no time for that.  And in no way was there anyone who even piqued his interest enough for him to come surfacing out of his self-imposed exile from the dating world. Or rather, that was true until an abandoned beagle and the gorgeous man who rescued him waltzed into his life.

****

OK . . so many thanks to the following lovely folks who have tagged me in the past few weeks for Six Sentence Sunday/ WIP Wednesday :

@porcelainmortal, @wordsofhoneydew, @duchessdepolignaca03, @forabeatofadrum, @littlemisskittentoes,

@agostobuwan, @nocoastposts, @sheepywritesfics @taste-thewaste @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

@iboatedhere, @itsmaybitheway, @onthewaytosomewhere, @myheartalivewrites, @magicandarchery

@fallevs. @daisyishedwig. @welcometololaland and if I forgot anyone, I so apologize! ( I really tried keeping a list every time I missed one!)

So going to open tag anyone who might want to share what they're working on . . but I'll also tag for the hell of it, if they want to jump in:

@kirakiwiwrites, @madas-ahatters-world, @coffeegleek, @gleefulpoppet, @little-escapist

@spaceorphan18 @yadivagirl

[plumadot]

The other day you were talking about how you wanted to incorporate Mean Gills at some point so that got me thinking about how the story could progress and have the teams of the other series.

(If you’ve already thought about this or don’t like the idea absolutely no problem, this is your AU and your opinions come first! I just had these thoughts so I thought I’d share)

WARNING LIGHT ANGST BUT I TRY TO MAKE IT ALL BETTER

Before the big battle between our main crew and Dogwarts (which I’m assuming happens?) somehow or other Scott and Jimmy get into an argument (I’m under the assumption also that they are together at this point). Then they do the battle against Ren and Martyn and stuff. Uhhmmmm and then Scar dies somehow. IM SORRY DONT GET MAD AT ME HES MY BELOVED TOO BUT JUST HEAR ME OUT! Scar dies, maybe Grian’s fault because of the warlock pew pew. And Scott is still so upset with Jimmy, he decided he just can’t travel with the party anymore. So *Scott has left your party*

Now it’s just Jimmy and Grian, couple of Sad BoysTM. But, they end up meeting Mumbo and Impulse (and maybe making nice with Martyn? Idk how that would work so maybe not) and they form the Southlanders!

MEANWHILE there’s a possibility that Rendog also died during that last battle (perhaps at Scars hand like in canon) (that would also explain why Martyn isn’t with Ren anymore). For sea queen reasons, Lizzie resurrects Ren and he like, pledges his allegiance to her (that’s what happened in Last Life right?). And just to prove to his wife that he can totally resurrect people (she was teasing him) Joel also resurrects some guy whose body was conveniently close to Ren’s body. Aha! He resurrects Scar! My bard is back!!!

Then I had some half baked ideas about the Southlanders returning to the Crastle Tavern, in which Impulse is reunited with his old friend Skizzleman, and Skizz introduces his friend Tango (Jimmy is enamored quite quickly). Scar has also returned to the Crastle because Cleo and Bdubs are his only other friends and you can imagine the SHOCK Grian has at seeing his previously thought dead friend/partner/employee/maybe lover just up on stage perfectly fine.

Oh and while this is all happening Scott has been pals with Pearl.

Another idea I had was Etho owns a decently sized sailing ship, but he’s not a huge sailor or anything. Joel is a sailor on some kind of mission and he’s hired a crew, so he needs a boat. Etho supplies said boat. Joel’s crew is like, all the Southlanders (Aha! 🔭🏴‍☠️) and Scar, and probably Bdubs… Que hilarious shenanigans as Joel tries to be the awesome captain and call all the shots and Etho keeps undermining him because it’s technically his boat.

*gasping for breath* I’m sorry I got so carried away. I hope most of this is coherent and that you enjoyed imaging my ideas! Once again DO NOT feel like you have to incorporate ANY of this. This is your AU so you decide what happens! This is just me theorizing what could happen next 😊

(Sorry I did not get to anything about the Mean Gills, my phone is about to go off)

Love anon 🍕

my GOSH your brain is huge jgfdkjgkfjd this is so elaborate it makes my head spin /pos

i never really planned for the au to span across like. multiple life series seasons. and it's insane that you're somehow making that work???? gfkdjkgjfdkg i just!!! i just wanna say it's really cool!!! i probably won't incorporate it in the (admittedly, way simpler) story that i have so far, but it's. it's so cool gkfdjgk

JIMMY AND SCOTT FALLING OUT DOES MAKE ME SAD THOUGH FGKDJGKJFDG /hj

also in the - sort of - story i have in mind, scar does get resurrected at some point hehe kgjfdkgjfd

gfjdkgd please don't apologize for getting carried away i really enjoyed reading your ideas :O !!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 thank you!!!

[karizard-ao3]

My reactions to Evangelion episode 18: Ambivalence

It sounds like this episode is going to be intense based on the preview from the last episode. It was something like, "It's great everyone got to be happy for a little bit before tragedy struck" and I'm wondering if it's time for the spoiler i saw about Toji when I was looking up his last name :(

Kensuke, you do not want the job.

God, what's he going to do when he finds out his two best bros are both pilots

They mention the second impact a lot at this school.

I'm not sure why Asuka is taking out her issues with Toji becoming a pilot on Shinji. I feel like I missed something in the last episode. Although, thinking about it, Toji being a pilot has made Rei worried about Shinji, so I'm now thinking Asuka is worried about him, too, but is expressing it in a very... uh... vibrant way. I guess they're worried about how he's going to take it when he finds out, since I'm sure he doesn't want any of his loved ones going through that kind of pain/struggle. I thought she was mad about having to share the limelight with someone she dislikes, but I don't think that's really it. When/ if I rewatch this, I'm going to have to pay closer attention when I watch the last episode again.

Kaji talking about not ever really being able to know someone reminds me of the stuff about how many different versions of oneself there are. I do really wonder what effect piloting the Evas has on the selves. I feel sure it's doing something to them, but I don't know what.

Oh, class rep brought the lunch for him :(

Ugh what if Shinji finds out Toji is the pilot after he's dead?

Wait wait wait. An Angel in the Eva or the Angel was the Eva? I'm rewinding.

Are they using the dummy capsule or whatever its called?

I am still mystified.

Did anyone survive?

Oh fuck they're going to make Shinji kill Toji. He's probably going to deliver the killing blow and then find out.

Fuck, Asuka!

She can't do it because she knows him.

Oh, shit! Rei!

Fuuuuck.

Rip the entry plug out, Shinji!

This reminds me of what happened to Shinji's Eva with the sphere. Like, how it was roaring and tearing things up.

Gendo, that is your kid!

Shinji, my beloved!

Switching to the dummy plug, huh? Unit 1 is about to go apeshit

And Shinji, who refused to murder someone, has to sit there and watch.

Did I know Evas could bleed?

Oh, fuck... Toji.

He's alive for now, it sounds like, unless they were referring to a different living pilot and Shinji (and therefore us) thought they meant Toji. Either way, what a gut punch

In Conclusion

I feel like I need time to let this one settle. Like, there wasn't a lot revealed about NERV or anything like that. This one definitely seemed more character driven. We for sure saw Gendo prioritizing the Evas and the war on the Angels against Shinji's well-being, which is like... How are you going to sit there and watch your son choke to death? He was really quick to sever Rei's arm without turning of the nerve link or whatever it's called, but I feel like that could also be interpreted as him being much more quick to save her than Shinji.

Also, the Evas behavior when they are not synced with a human feels very significant. I feel like once I reach all the reveals I'm going to be like, "Oh, duh!" but I'm still kind of turning it over in my head. We've seen time and again through the series that they are erratic and, except for that time with Shinji in the first episode, they default to violence when they are not under a pilot's control. It must be mentally exhausting to control something so alien and feral for sure. Maybe it's because a personality without a heart/soul regresses to the worst parts of itself. Which part of the psyche is the one that succumbs to all its impulses? The id? Anyway, I don't know but I'm wondering if this was the Angels' plan when they vaporised Base 2 (?). Infect unit 3, get it back to Japan, and then rampage.

We got to see a side of Shinji that we usually don't get to see, where he refused to take orders based on his own sense of right and wrong. I'm proud of him, especially since he stood up to his father in the process. It's awful that he had his agency stripped away from him and was forced to watch himself do it anyway. What a violation.

Anyway, I have to get to bed but I'm hoping to get another episode in tomorrow.

Lol what if it's the dark glasses are making Gendo evil and if he put on a normal pair of spectacles again he would become a chill guy. I kid, I kid.

So long for now!

[coeluvr]

Since the fire route got brought up again, I did want share my own MCs stances on their choice to burn. Both did choose to burn Farah's room to give Luceris a taste of his own medicine, but the triggers that cause the choice and what they got out of it ended up being different.

Miles was bottling a lot of things up the years before the fateful room burn. They tried so hard to remain calm, remain kind and were just given crap for their attempts time and time again. But even in those moments, there was always this little fire in their belly that flickered to life in occasion. For them, nothing in particular from the night triggered their urge to burn; it was just everything that's happened over the years hit them at once while in that room. Lancelot's incessant need to fix something that he helped Luceris break, Helios being able to smile even after they revealed to him the monster that the king is, the servants treating him like trash for who knows how long because of king spreading lies about this family, the rage of how Luceris took everything from them, the grief of feeling so alone and unheard...it was like someone poured gasoline on that little fire and it came out roaring. Something about burning the room released a giant weight off them

Brigid, in comparison, has been fighting every step of the way since being dragged to Rosea. No one could ever deny this girl was brimming with the passion and of ferocity of a dragon. But those years of constant fighting were taking a toll on her own fire, that was slowly getting weaker and weaker as nothing around her changed no matter how hard fought for it to. The triggers for her were Vincent's easy discovery of her and the play; something about how seemingly easily Vincent saw through the disguise that left her distraught with the thought she couldn't even have that small taste of freedom for herself without one of Luceris' people knowing about it. Seeing the play just really hit with how many people support and glorify the Rosea king's madness and it was...disheartening. She burned the room with less impulsive action than Miles, but the lashing out did nothing to dispel the heavy weight that that fell upon her that night: she can never be free and so many side with the mad king. The fire in her is now armor by a thick layer of ice that both protects the little that is left, and keeps it hidden now from the outside world.

Both stayed to face Luceris head on, one taking pleasure with the look on his face and the other feeling nothing. Maybe even Luceris sees just how off their smiles are now, with Miles' sharpened with a almost maniacally glee and Brigid's holding nothing but a cold emptiness. Now the games between Luceris and these two are truly about to start.

No one can blame MC for burning down the room because let's be real he deserved every bit of it. It's interesting to read about your two MCs who even if they have a different journeys within themselves, they end up in the same spot.

I just hope they can find some sort of peace (acting like I'm not the author) because what the hell they really deserve it.

[nirikeehan]

For Thalia x Hawke - A steaming mug of something hot, pinned down and mirror sex. If you please <3

All riiiiiight I've resurrected this terribly mediocre ship for one night only!!

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2319

Rating: E for the smuts

---

The mug of mulled wine steamed on the table between them. Thalia watched the vapor rise off it as an excuse not to look at him. Hawke had his own mug in front of him, also untouched. The silence between them extended as the Gull and Lantern’s minstrel tuned his lute. His last song, about Scout Lace Harding, had been off key. 

Hawke cleared his throat. “So. You got my letter.” 

So she had, a couple days earlier. She’d been perfectly baffled by it. Inquisitor, it had read, I really enjoyed having a drink with you the last time we were together. Perhaps you’d like to have a drink again. I’ll be staying in Redcliffe village for the next week, if you’re available.

South Reach was only a day’s ride away on the Imperial Highway, so Thalia had saddled her horse and left Garlic with her sister-in-law that morning. Now at evenfall, Hawke sat before her, looking much the same as he had the last time she’d seen him: still too tall and too muscly, the unkempt beard and hair hiding an otherwise handsome face. She chewed her lip. Getting an answer to her question almost certainly hadn’t been worth the effort to come here. 

Thalia picked up the mug and took a sip of the hot wine, sweet with honey and strong with cloves. 

“Did we?” she asked. “Have a drink together last time?” 

She watched Hawke flush a deep red, almost as vibrant as that strange bit of war paint he always insisted upon smearing across his nose. A forty year old man, playing dress up. 

“I don’t seem to recall that part,” Thalia continued. 

Hawke cleared his throat, averting his gaze. “Yes, well. I don’t know. Spies could be anywhere. And it sounded less absurd than ‘I fondly think back on the night your mabari bit me.’” 

“You think back on that night fondly?” Thalia asked, bemusement only deepening. 

Hawke looked at her sharply. “You don’t?” 

Thalia frowned, now worried they might have two very different memories of the night in question. “I’d assumed you’d—” She glanced around the tavern, which was full enough that the din drowned out their conversation, but his mention of spies had spooked her. He kept the hood up on his cloak and her prosthetic arm was well-hidden in hers. Her hair was much shorter than it had been when she’d been traipsing through Redcliffe those years ago, long enough that everyday citizens rarely recognized her by sight. Still, the Champion of Kirkwall was technically a wanted man. She had a penchant for those, it seemed. “I’d assumed it was perhaps something you’d wished to forget.” 

She had, certainly. A dumb, impulsive thing she still couldn’t quite believe she had done while half-mad with grief. A knot of guilt formed in her ribcage when she thought about it for too long, especially while living in the cottage she’d shared with Cullen. 

Hawke leaned back in his seat, his expression difficult to read. She didn’t know him very well — that was the truth. One could read a great man’s biography, and still come away understanding little about him. Varric had told her all about the phenomenon, and the burden of being a chronicler of history. The lies he put in there, to protect his friend. The lies he put into All This Shit Is Weird, to protect her. 

“Why on earth would you think that?” Hawke asked, more startled than ever. 

Thalia was beginning to regret coming. “You said I reminded you of your sister!” 

“Once. When we first met. When you were young and in over your head with all that Inquisition business. Certainly not when we were—”

He broke off for modesty’s sake, but Thalia’s memory filled in the blanks. Fucking on my living room floor, she wanted to supply, but didn’t dare voice the words. She sipped her wine demurely. Hawke’s grip tightened on the edge of the table. He had evidently not expected resistance from her. Which made her wonder what he had expected. 

“Anyway,” he cut in again with a twitchy smile. He was less charming than Varric’s book made him out to be, that much she had learned when they’d first met on the battlements of Skyhold. He carried too much pain for that. To be known as a hero, only to have so few of your actions matter. Thalia felt a small bit of pity for him, suddenly. “I just thought it would be nice to see you, that’s all.” 

He wants to do it again, Thalia realized, her face flushing hot. He sent the letter on a whim, unsure if she would show up, but show up she did. It was far too late in the evening to turn around and go back to South Reach; she’d be riding all night. So she’d have to stay here and leave in the morning, no matter what. He’d already told her he was staying here, had a room upstairs. The more she thought about it, the less surprised she was. 

“Does Varric know about this?” Thalia demanded. 

“Why would he know?”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure why the idea made her so queasy.

“Why would he care?” Hawke leaned forward, his bright brown eyes searching her face. “He’s not my father. Nor yours.” 

Thalia stared deep into her mug of wine so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“If anything,” Hawke continued in a musing tone, “I think he’d approve. I think he’d want us to be happy.”

“Oh, being happy, is that you’d call this?” Thalia shot back. “And not just desperately, pathetically lonely?”

For such a large man, Hawke shrank with impressive volume when hurt. His eyes grew distant as he drained his mug in one grimacing gulp. He slammed it down on the table with enough force to rock it, and lurched to his feet. “I see I have been made the fool once more, Lady Inquisitor. Forgive me for thinking you held me in higher esteem than it appears you do.” 

Well, now you’ve done it. Regret flooded through her. “Hawke. Hawke, wait.” 

He paid no mind, shouldering through the crowd. 

Thalia let out a sigh, but resisted the urge to go after him. She nursed the rest of her drink, growing warmer and more morose with each sip. When she finished, the minstrel seemed determined to butcher Andraste’s Mabari, and Thalia stood. She thought about finding the innkeeper and renting her own room for the night, but the thought depressed her even more. 

She left the tap room and ventured up the stairs, searching for the room number Hawke had casually dropped at the beginning of their conversation. She found the correct one and knocked before her shame could kick in. 

After a few minutes the door opened. Hawke filled it with his massive frame and leaned against it, scowling down at her. His face and ends of his hair were damp; cheeks and nose were pink from where he must have just scrubbed off that ridiculous war paint. He looks better without it, Thalia thought, her stomach flopping. 

“Yeah? Can I help you?” His posture and tone were not kind. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Thalia said quickly. “I was terribly rude before.”

“You certainly were.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, biceps straining against the fabric of his tunic sleeve. 

She licked her lips. “Can I come in?”

His eyebrows shot upward. “What for?” 

Thalia felt herself blushing. She averted his gaze. “I’d rather not stand in a public space and argue with you, that’s all.” 

Hawke took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly. “Right. It’d probably be all over the broadsheets by morning.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. 

She stormed inside, and he closed the door with a firm click, leaning his weight against it. The Gull and Lantern had nice rooms: a wide featherbed with an embroidered cover dominated the room, and the stone walls were covered with oil paintings of the Ferelden elite. A full length mirror with a gilded frame stood in one corner, in front of which stood Hawke’s pack and belongings. But she didn’t come here to gawk at the decor. 

She turned to face him. Hawke stood before her, his expression stony. “Well? Have you come to keep throwing my feelings in my face, or do you wish to beg for forgiveness?”

Thalia swallowed thickly, her gaze straying to the bed. “Are those the only two options?”

---

“As I was trying to say,” Thalia said, straddling his naked waist, “it’s just that I don’t know you very well.”

Hawke’s hands gripped her hips as he helped her line up with his erection. He chuckled. “And you don’t think this counts as getting to know each other?” 

“I don’t know what this counts as.” She inhaled as they pressed against each other. It was both a relief and terribly annoying to feel him inside her again. She wriggled for purchase — he was sitting at the side of the bed, her in his lap, kneeling on either side of him — and let out a sigh. “Maker. Okay.” 

“Just okay?” He rolled his hips against hers and leaned in for a kiss. “I’d like it to be a little better than that.”

Thalia pressed her hand against his chest and closed her eyes, trying to focus on the feel of him. “It’s just— last time, ah—” She matched his slow rhythm and felt a nice little ache spreading from her pelvis. “It took us awhile.” 

“And that’s why you’re on top this time, yes?” He nipped at her ear. “I can be a quick study.”

“Be that as it may,” Thalia said, breath growing shallow, “This isn’t normally something I do, you understand.”

“And what is ‘this’?”

“Sex.” Thalia gasped as he grabbed her breasts and squeezed. “With near strangers!”

“I wouldn’t say we’re that. We saved the world together, remember?”

“Mm. I suppose.” His chest was warm and sculpted, beneath the thick hair that covered it. She ran her palm along its contours. She had always found the largeness of his body comforting. 

“Survived the Fade, side by side.” Another slow, purposeful thrust, as he stroked her nipples with his thumbs. This drew a little cry from her; he grunted in appreciation. “I admired your tenacity then.” 

“You didn’t say anything.” She tested out how it felt to slowly raise herself up and down on her knees, feeling the length of him. Good. Pretty good. She shuddered pleasantly. 

“You were busy. And young. Fuck, yes, just like that.”

“I’m still young,” Thalia reminded him, the thrill of the encouragement mixing with her ire. Cullen had never sworn when they made love. 

“Younger than now. And I was full of bitterness, grievances.” He adjusted her, tried a different angle. Better, she thought. Maker, I think I’m enjoying this. 

“Well, what a coincidence—” She gasped, grinding against him. “Now I’ve got those too.”

“So it works?”

“Maybe.” She was growing impatient. She shifted, and with better leverage, began to bounce harder and faster, abandoning pretense, her breaths coming in short gasps. 

“Bloody hell—” Hawke yelped. He leaned back, groaning. He fell flat on the bed, and Thalia gleefully straddled his waist and rode him, her breasts heaving. He cursed and muttered her name and pawed at her. “Fuck,” she said back, trying it out. Crude, but she liked it, if she allowed herself to, this messy copulation with a man she barely knew. She thought maybe she could bring them both to climax like this, call the deed done, but she slowed before they reached the tipping point, her knees betraying her. She sat back a little, her one good hand splayed on his panting stomach, hair obscuring her face, and tried to catch her breath.

“You’re real gaatlok when you get going, you know that?” Hawke demanded.  

Thalia bit her lip. “Thanks. I think.” She felt strangely shy all of a sudden, which was absurd because he was cupping her breasts and moving slowly inside her to get her going again. “Do you think — we can get there together this time?”

Hawke smirked. She didn’t see him smile much, and she had to admit the softening of his face made him more attractive. “We’re the Inquisitor and the Champion of Kirkwall. I believe in us.”

“I don’t think our previous accomplishments qualify us for this task.”

“Not with that attitude.”

She laughed, genuinely surprised at his humor. Garrett Hawke had always seemed so dour to her, preoccupied with the world and all its failings. Her laughter died, however, when he reached between her legs and found a certain spot with his thumb he had massaged last time on her living room floor. She gasped. “Oh, Maker….”

“Why don’t we try it?” he asked, putting some pressure there. Thalia bucked against him, causing them both to moan. 

“That isn’t fair,” Thalia whined, meeting his crescendoing pace, feeling herself losing more and more control. 

“Why? You think you’re the only one who can drive someone wild?”

Words were lost after that, lost to panting and grunting and epithets hissed through teeth. “Hawke,” she said, like an accusation; because that felt impersonal, she tried, “Garrett.” He returned the favor, saying her name fervently, like a prayer. 

Just as she felt herself about to slip over, she arched her back and threw her head back into the feeling. It was then she caught a full reflect of herself curled around him in the full length mirror. “Sweet Andraste!” she cried in horror. 

Hawke angled his head, amused. “So that’s what we look like.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. How unseemly.”

“You don’t think we look thrilling?”

“Certainly not!”

“Keep looking,” Hawke urged, and Thalia, too absorbed to disengage, obliged. 

She begrudgingly admitted it had a certain appeal, after. 

[faewritesfanfic]

Halloween Night

Just a short ficlet I put together of Kore and Bailey hanging out on Halloween while they wait for Eden to get back. This is almost entirely tooth rotting fluff, with a little bit of lore.

Enjoy!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

It was late Halloween night, and Bailey and Kore were sitting on a bench waiting for Eden. Trick-or-treating could be overstimulating at times, and along the route the siblings had planned were several safe spots to pause and take a moment to rest or smoke a joint. Eden had taken a moment alone to run into a nearby store to get himself some water and maybe something to eat. Kore and Bailey had stayed outside to keep an eye on the machete that went with Eden’s Jason costume, and swap sweets.

“You got gummy bears?” Bailey asked, looking over at Kore’s bag. Kore was in her candy corn kitty costume, while Bailey was dressed as Leatherface.

“Mm, I have Gold Bears.” Kore said doubtfully.

“I can still use those. Gimmie.” Bailey motioned with his hand, and Kore handed him the sweets. She felt a little bad for whomever was going to be on the receiving end of Bailey’s plot.

“Can I have that apple in exchange?” Kore asked, pointing.

“You are so weird. Why do you want the apple? I have Flake bars in here.” Bailey gestured to his bag, but got Kore her apple.

“It’s not weird! I just…” Kore took the apple, pouting as she tried to gather her thoughts. “We don’t get a lot of fresh fruit. I feel awful saying it, but the apples are sort of the best part of Halloween for me.”

There was a long moment of silence as Bailey started to feel a vein throbbing in his head. “Fu-uuck.” He growled out at last.

Kore leaned over to get a better look at him. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” Bailey grumbled. “My fucking sister gets decent food so rarely she thinks apples are a treat. Fuck me.” Bailey pulled his Leatherface mask off, and shook his head when he saw the look of worry and apprehension on his sister’s face. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at Oakley.”

Mr. Oakley had been the caretaker at the orphanage for as long as anyone could remember. He was an unpleasant, plump middle aged man who’s thinning hair had already gone white. Oakley syphoned all the money he could from the orphanage, but it was never enough for the miserable git. He extracted whatever money he could from his wards, and ruled them with an iron fist. They all had at least one scar that was caused by him, and many was the time an orphan would disappear only for Oakley to scrub all trace of their existence.

Kore wrung her hands nervously, but tried to look hopeful. “He has to let us go once we graduate. He’ll have no excuse then.”

“I dunno.” Bailey shook his head. “Something tells me Oakley’s got another way to screw us over. I can just feel it.”

Kore was quiet for a moment, then scooted closer to Bailey to lower her head and speak conspiratorially with him. “Hey, this isn’t forever.” She said, gently bumping her head against Bailey’s. “We’re going to stick together, and we’re all going to get out of this. By this time next year we’ll all three be sharing a flat. We’re going to be working, and because we won’t have Oakley leeching off us we’ll have all the fruit we want. I can work full time at the spa, Eden was thinking of learning a trade, and you can take that beautiful mind of yours and go to university.”

“You don’t know that, Kore.” Bailey sighed, shaking his head. “Anything could happen between now and then. We’re still not in the clear.”

“Be that as it may, I refuse to live in fear of what might happen.” Kore said with a shrug. “Bailey, if you go through life only expecting the worst case scenario you’re going to drive yourself nuts.”

Bailey leaned back, looking up at the ominously red moon. “Yeah, I know.” The truth was that Bailey always felt like he had to be on the lookout for the next problem his family would face. If something bad happened and he hadn’t seen it coming he felt like a failure. He doesn’t tell this to his sister. It’s a selfish impulse, but he doesn’t want her to worry over him. “Hey, what are you and Eden gonna get up to after this? Unless it’s that. Don’t tell me if it’s that.” Bailey said, casually nudging Kore with his knee in an effort to lighten the situation.

Kore rolls her eyes at her brother, but reluctantly goes along with it. “We found a book of Victorian ghost stories at the library. We’re going to read that, have some sweets, Eden will braid my hair, and we’ll turn in early.”

“Wait, what was that?” Bailey asked, arching a brow.

“Well after all the excitement of tonight it’s best to rest and–”

“No, not that part. Obviously.” Bailey snarked. “The part where Eden braids your hair?”

“Oh, that?” Kore shrugged. “Eden likes to help me brush and braid my hair. It feels nice, and frankly I have quite a lot of hair so I appreciate the help.”

“You two are forty and married. Unbelievable.” Bailey gave a defeated gesture. “Well, don’t wait up for me. Me and some friends are going to go throw rancid eggs at Leighton’s house.”

“That sounds like a lovely evening.” Kore said with a nod. “Remember to put sugar in his car’s petrol tank.”

“Knew I was forgetting something. Thanks.” Bailey leaned over to look in Kore’s goody bag again. “Hey, can I have those jalapeno chips?”