#i made 3 little ficlets~

[riconas]

Is Aeon going to get anything gentle from Rain? I'm sorry that just felt uncomfortable at the end I didn't expect it I'm sorry

Please don't be sorry, it's alright. I am sorry for not tagging better - I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable! I hope this makes up for it, and if you wanna talk to me you can always send me more anon asks, or chat to me in dms. 🧡

cw: a safeword, a splash of angst, and a very loving handjob

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He doesn’t remember what it is that Rain says, but he does remember how it makes him feel. Something derogatory, something cruel, a word that Aeon would have begged for in different circumstances, but can’t stand the sound of now. Slut, maybe. Or whore. Point is, it rolled off Rain’s tongue so easily, but went to Aeon’s head like a knife.

“Yellow,” Aeon says brokenly. “Please don’t call me that.”

He still can’t see very clearly, not with his vision wet and blurry, but he feels Rain pause in his tracks. The pressure around his throat disappears all at once, as does the discomfort of Rain’s hand on his cock. Relieved, Aeon lets out a shaky exhale, and turns his head away as he tries not to sob.

And then: Rain’s hand on his cheek, gentle and painfully familiar. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, guiltily. “Are you okay?”

Aeon looks into Rain’s eyes, heedless of the tears filling his own. “I just wanted to be good.”

Without warning, Rain’s getting off of him, kneeling beside him, not touching him anywhere anymore. Aeon grabs his hand before he can go any further. He doesn’t want to be left like this.

“I know,” Rain says, and Aeon thinks he detects fear in Rain’s voice, cold and dark and oily in the aether. “I shouldn’t have said that, baby. I’m sorry.”

Rain shouldn’t have. Aeon agrees. Doesn’t change the fact that he did.

“I just want you to touch me,” he says quietly. “I don’t want the—I don’t want the rough… shit, and all that.” He sniffles, holding back tears. He doesn’t understand why it’s different today. He doesn’t want to cry.

“Okay,” Rain replies. “I understand, sweetheart.”

Rough shit be damned, Aeon’s still hard. He hoists himself up on shaky arms, shuffling back to lean against the headboard, and pointedly avoids eye contact with Rain, even when Rain grabs a pillow and tucks it behind his back. He doesn’t want to face Rain’s pity while he’s jerking him off.

“What would you like me to do?” Rain asks kindly, placing a hand on his knee as he kneels between Aeon’s legs. “We don’t have to keep going. You want to clean up? Go to bed?”

“Use your hand,” Aeon says without hesitation. Then, more demandingly: “Make me cum.” He looks up at Rain, into his lovely blue eyes, and feels a little bad. “Please.”

Rain can be so gentle when he wants to be. Aeon closes his eyes and tips his head back as Rain starts to stroke him, not too fast, not too hard. He’s getting better at asking for what he wants, getting better at saying no, and he is terribly grateful for Dew, who chewed him out non-stop until he’d dropped the people-pleasing. After all the prior meanness, he’d nearly forgotten how it felt to be pampered. He’d missed this.

“Thank you for telling me,” Rain murmurs, squeezing his hand reassuringly, working Aeon’s cock like it’s his life’s goal to make Aeon feel good. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner." He thumbs over the head, just how Aeon likes it, exactly how Aeon taught him. The thought makes Aeon want to curl up into a tiny ball forever.

Carefully, he cradles Rain’s hand in both of his hands and holds it to his chest, so that Rain can feel the way his chest heaves as he gets close, the way his heart is pounding. All because of him.

“I wanted this,” Aeon says, tremulous, his head lolling to the side. “Not the choking, and the teasing. Wanted you to treat me like—like you loved me, or something.”

“I do love you,” Rain says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Aeon cums with his mouth pressed to Rain’s, lips parted, Rain’s tongue against his teeth. He’s quiet about it, groaning softly as he shoots all over Rain’s fingers, dribbles onto his own stomach. It feels like a big weight being lifted off his shoulders, the first breath after diving into the water, and when Rain noses gently into his hair, murmuring praise long overdue, Aeon forgets what he meant to say.

“There you go,” Rain murmurs, as Aeon shudders against him, burying his face in the crook of Rain’s shoulder. He digs his nails into Rain’s wrist, but Rain doesn’t complain. He stops jerking when Aeon starts to whimper, instead of dragging him into a second, more painful orgasm, and wipes his hand on the sheets instead of Aeon’s thigh.

Unfamiliar concepts to Aeon, but not unwelcome. He smiles drunkenly, gratefully, kissing Rain’s knuckles, nuzzling his hand. He’s got nothing to say, really. Nothing more he wants Rain to know, and he doesn’t want to waste his hard-earned breath on meaningless words. He kicks up a purr, groping clumsily at Rain’s waist, until Rain scoots in nice and close and presses their bodies together.

“Was that okay?” Rain asks, concerned. He puts his palm to Aeon’s cheek. “It felt alright?”

“Yeah,” Aeon mumbles tiredly. “You’re very good to me.” He pokes Rain’s chest until he detaches himself from Aeon, and then he dips a finger into the little droplets of cum on his stomach, swirling them around. So much angst, just for that. He should bring Rain a gift basket. He should return the favour.

“Should’ve told me you didn’t like it rough,” Rain says despondently, as he swipes at Aeon’s tummy in a sad attempt to clean him up. “All this time I’ve been making you feel terrible.”

“I do like it rough,” Aeon says, emphatic. “Just not today. Needed you to pretend.”

Rain kisses his forehead. “I wasn’t pretending.”

Aeon will unpack that later. He’s very tired now, and he deserves a break. He rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes.

[thevioletcaptain]

I know the ask is about ships but could you make a non ship one with Dean and Carlos from the Winchesters? I can't think of an exact thing for Dean to say, but the first sentence can be what Dean would say for their first meeting. Thank you if you can (*^‿^*)

"I like your hair," Dean says, staring up from where he's clinging to the bottom of Mary's winter coat, and Carlos grins wide when he adds, with all the breathless gravity of a four year old eager to impress their opinions upon a new friend; "It's swooshy and it's pretty like Mommy's hair, and your-- your beads are pretty and shiny and shiny is my favorite color."

"Swooshy and pretty and shiny is exactly what I was going for, so thank you, little buddy."

Even with almost six years between now and the last time he'd seen Mary, Carlos is relieved to find that they still have a good sense of one-another -- can still communicate silently, swiftly, like they used to when it was life or death. He meets her eye, and her face softens, and understanding passes between them before he slides one of his lucky beaded bracelets -- the bloodstone one -- free.

Dean's eyes light up when he takes it.

When he smiles, he looks just like his mother.

[for this askbox game if anyone else wants to send me a prompt]

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

[gatorbites-imagines]

can i request for power bottom Butcher (the boys) overstimulating subtop male reader until he's basically crying and shaking? :3 bonus points if reader has powers (but is not a sup)

Billy Butcher x Supe male reader

Ficlet

This lit something in my brain, but I am also tired, so the writing might be kinda messy. I didn’t have any specific powers in mind, but spiderman was in the back of my mind, so kinda based off that.

It’s been hard to get in the smut writing mood for a while, so im tryna dip my toes back into it. Hopefully it’s still good even though I’m rusty.

not proofread 🤞

The motel room was hot and humid, sweat running down the side of your forehead and into your hairline. You could taste the salt whenever you licked your lips, the dingy mattress under you soaked from all the sweat and other bodily fluids that had left not only you but Butcher as well.

The yellowed sheets were streaked with dirt from his heavy boots as he crouched above you, your chest shuddering as his strong hands grasped tightly at your calves. If it wasn’t for your healing factor, dark bruises would have dug into them a while ago, but they faded as soon as Butcher left them on you, making him grumble something about supes and their stupid powers.

You were the only one naked out of the two of you, body glistening in what little light passed in through the blinds, your hair a mess and eyes wet from unshed tears. Butcher had only kicked off his pants, even dragging them down and off, leaving his boots on before he had clambered up onto the bed and shoved your legs up by the knees.

Amazon position, you think it was called, something you had only seen online once or twice. But here was Butcher, smirking down at you as you grip at the sheets, tearing the cheap covers like tissue paper as you panted and moaned. There was something feral in his eyes as you tried to hump up into him, but the way he held your legs and pressed his weight down on you made it almost impossible, even with your super strength.

“B-Butch” you pant out, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to find the words, tongue feeling thick and useless, leaving you floundering like a fish out of water. You two had been going for hours, or rather, Butcher would push and pull at you, put his mouth on you, or jerk you till you were almost there. But then he would pull back, patting you on the head and telling you “Be good” before doing something else.

It could be anything from scrolling through the few channels on the cheap motel tv, to him going out to smoke a cigarette, or leaving to just wander the area or going to the store. The last one he had done before he came back to climb on top of you as he was now, his sturdy body bearing down on you so deliciously.

You were so close, close enough that it made you feel like you were about to cry. Something Butcher could easily tell, if the growing predatory smirk on his face meant anything. A warbled cry left you as he pulled up and off you again, a slick wet noise sounding as his hole pulled off your cock. You didn’t need to look to know that your length was a deep pained color, your balls so full and heavy that they felt almost as tortured as your cock.

Butcher laughed, voice heavy and dominant in the way that made your brain feel like mush melting out of your ears. Your bottom lip drew up and wobbled as you tried hard not to beg or cry, vision growing so blurry with tears even as Butcher’s hand reached down and patted your cheek. “Come on pup, you can take it, can’t ya?” he laughed, his voice so deliciously taunting and cruel that it made you throb, precum pouring out of your slit and down your sensitive aching shaft.

“Ya wanna be good for me, I know you do. My little supe” Butcher purred, leaning down just enough to ghost a kiss against the crown of your head. His satisfied tone made the tears spill over, a shaky sob leaving your chest as you dug your fingers into the mattress, a loud rip ringing out throughout the motel room.

The tsk that left Butcher made your heart ache, another pitiful pained sob leaving you. But this time it was not from the gut aching need to cum, but the very idea that you might have disappointed him. As his hand cradled your face more surely, you couldn’t help but nuzzle into it, kissing at his callused palm as you whimper out broken slurred apologies.

The silence felt heavy and loaded, but in the end, Butcher just sighed like one would sigh if they found out their pet had chewed up the carpet. “Can’t expect a supe like you to control himself. But ya did good enough, good boy” he rumbled out. And before you knew it, that tight wet heat was swallowing up your cock once more, punching the breath out of your chest as you keened, lost for words as Butcher started riding you like he was punishing you.

“come on boy, cum for me, show me what a supe like you has to offer” he growled out in that hot purred way, his weight slamming down on you as he worked his knees. You felt dizzy, sweat pouring off your body as you gasped and let out noises closer to a bark than a moan, the noise punched out of you every time his weight fell on your own.

It was almost enough, but there was something missing, even Butcher seemed to realize this. So, as you cried out tears of edging and sensitivity, Butchers strong hand grasped your chin, pressing his thumb and fingers into your jaw to make it unhinge and hang open. Your vision cleared up just enough to see him purse his lips, and watch as he spat into your mouth.

You couldn’t even tell if his spit had hit your tongue before you came, a noise coming from deep inside your chest as your entire body shook, jolts and quivers rushing through you as your entire lower body burned. It felt like you were underwater, his deep voice nothing more than a pleasant hum as he presumably praised you, his body pressing down on yours more insistently until you could only imagine he had finished too.

You felt like a well loved toy when he rose up off of you, standing on the ruined torn mattress as you spread out like an unfolded piece of paper, silent tears still running down your cheeks as you shivered from the aftershocks. A shaky whimper left you as you sensed Butcher getting off the bed and leaving to somewhere, but he was back before you could start crawling out of that blurry but pleasant spot you were in.

Butcher pressed kisses to your sweaty hair as he wiped you down, his voice low as he rumbled more praise and words of affirmation, even though he knew you couldn’t fully register what he was saying yet. His beard tickled as the kisses traveled down to your cheek, before they pressed against your own, Butcher leaving a sweet lingering kiss on your bitten lips.

Easily Butcher picked you up, moving you to the second bed of the motel room. There was no saving of the torn monstrosity that had been the bed he had played with you on all day, with the large rips and the stuffing spilling out. Hed remember to leave extra cash for it when you two left.

With a sigh Butcher shrugged off the rest of his clothes, crawling into bed beside you, letting you melt into his hairy chest as Butcher scrolled through the few channels on the tv. He settled on some Spanish telenovela, a loving huff leaving him as he felt your hands sticking to his chest as you lost grip of your powers. With a last kiss to the top of your head, Butcher settled back, letting you take all the time you needed to come back to earth. After that, he would get some food and drink in you, and a shower, you both needed that.

[steddiealltheway]

(Happy happy birthday Noelle (@frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe) thank you for all your amazing fun facts which are the source for this little ficlet. I hope you enjoy <3)

For some reason, The Party had decided to rent Friday the 13th for their upcoming movie night at Steve's house. With all the shit they've been through, Steve thinks that maybe it's a strange choice, but he knows better than to question the kids.

"What a nice choice," Robin says sarcastically as she looks over Steve's shoulder at the tape. She hasn't quite grasped how defensive the teens can get, but they seem to respect her more than they respect Steve. Figures.

"Isn't it?" Dustin snarks back as he grabs the tape from the counter.

Max rolls her eyes and adds, "I said the same thing."

"Yeah, because you want to watch some shit like Cinderella," Mike whines.

"Does it ever hurt your tiny, sexist brain to think of those weak insults?" Max asks with her eyebrows raised.

Lucas tries to hide a laugh as Mike glares at him.

"Alright, alright, this is the Family Video. Take it outside if you guys are going to bicker," Steve says with a sigh as he moves to restack some tapes Dustin had nudged just to be annoying.

"You and Robin bicker all the time," Dustin says defensively.

Steve gives him a look. "Do you want to lose Harrington house privileges?"

Dustin sighs, looking like he really wants to argue before he turns around to the group and announces defeatedly, "Alright, let's get snacks before tonight."

As they're filing out the door, Dustin runs back to the counter and adds, "I almost forgot. Is it fine if Eddie comes?"

Steve shrugs, trying to look unphased by the question. "Sure," he says, voice cracking a bit.

Dustin instantly lights up. "Great! I already invited him, so that would've been awkward. See you later!"

Robin comes up to him and lightly shoves his shoulder. "Sure," she mocks him. "You're so smooth."

"Shut up," Steve says with a sigh. God, Robin will never let him live down what he thought to be his deathbed confession of his crush on Eddie. In reality, he was just put on so many painkillers in the hospital that he had gotten confused when he woke up in a hospital room.

And yeah, maybe the crush still hasn't gone away and Robin definitely knows, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

"You're going to be at the movie night, right?" Steve asks.

Robin groans. "I've already told you, I have my parent's anniversary dinner tonight."

"So, you'll be at my house tonight," Steve jokes.

"I wish."

Steve nudges her shoulder. He's already seen the obnoxious pictures of Robin and her parents from every year of their wedding anniversaries lining the walls of one particular hallway. It's endearing really, but Robin hates it.

"You better call me later if anything new develops between you and Eddie," Robin whispers although there's no one in the room.

Steve just nods, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as he still refuses to verbally acknowledge the ridiculous crush that maybe fills his stomach with butterflies and all those obnoxious things.

He sighs and turns to Robin. "How am I going to survive tonight without you?"

"The world may never know," she says dramatically.

And really, the world may never know. At least, that's how Steve feels.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Okay, maybe Steve is a little bit of a mess.

Sure, Eddie has shown up, and Steve has been playing it cool, but it's like he can't take his eyes off him. He's made so much eye contact, he's sure that he's creeping Eddie out a bit or giving away his huge crush.

But he’s Steve Harrington. Like Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Inventor of the Harrington charm. All that stuff. And… Eddie has absolutely melted him into a puddle of goo. Christ.

By the time the movie starts, Steve’s head is practically buzzing with all his thoughts of Eddie is sitting next to me. What do I do? The kids are here, so I can’t make a move. But I don’t even know if he likes me.

Then, Max’s question breaks through the thoughts as she asks, “When is the next Friday the 13th this year?”

“Well, fun fact, any month that starts on a Sunday will have a Friday the 13th,” Eddie says with a proud grin.

Steve ignores the kids’ responses asking when that month is and the subsequent response from Eddie saying he doesn’t know, but he just knows the fact.

But for some reason, the fact is absolutely blowing Steve’s mind.

And yes, maybe it’s because it came from Eddie, but truly, when Steve associates fact with something, it is never fun. But this truly is a… fun fact.

He must have a look on his face because Eddie eyes him and asks, “What?”

Steve just shrugs and says, “I just… really thought the fact was… fun.” Jesus, did his Harrington charm just evaporate or something?

But he thinks the honesty of it works for Eddie who smiles softly at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

Eddie swings an arm casually over the back of the couch and leans in. “I’m full of fun facts, Harrington.” He gives him a winks before leaning back.

Steve leans into his space, trying to close some of the distance between them. “Tell me another one.”

Eddie laughs, “I’m going to max out my fun fact limit to one a day.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

Eddie tilts his head toward him. “It’s fair if it gives me an excuse to talk to you every day.”

Okay, yeah. That was blatant flirting. Which Steve is about to match, until the kids decide now is the best time to interrupt and yell at them to be quiet as the movie starts.

As the movie goes on, Eddie and Steve drift closer together while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible in front of the kids. They haven’t talked about it, of course, but Steve’s pretty sure neither of them want to scar the kids. Or maybe, Steve just doesn’t want the kids to very accurately point out his feelings for Eddie and force him to deal with them.

Unfortunately, this also means that Steve doesn’t get a moment alone with Eddie to further flirt with him or try to push him for another fact. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Especially since Eddie gave him an excuse to talk to him tomorrow.

-:-:-:-:-:-

“What’s another fun fact?” Steve asks as soon as he hears Eddie on the other line.

“Christ, I just woke up. Give my brain a few seconds,” Eddie groans into the phone, voice rough with sleep.

Steve smiles. “Good morning by the way,” he says sweetly.

“Good morning,” Eddie replies back, sounding a bit less grumpy. There’s a bit of shuffling on his side of the phone before he says, “It’s illegal to feed pigeons on the streets of San Francisco.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “There’s no way!”

“Go ahead and feed a pigeon there then,” Eddie says with a laugh.

“Maybe I will. If you come with me and promise to bail me out.”

Eddie hums on the other line. “I don’t know. I think it would be fun to spend a night in a jail cell with you. Maybe I’ll join you in your crime.”

“Scratch that, I’m bailing you out.”

“That’s sounds about right, Bonnie.”

“Bonnie?” Steve questions, feeling like he’s missed something.

Eddie gasps on the other line. “Like Bonnie and Clyde!”

Steve doesn’t respond, waiting for Eddie to fill him in.

“Okay, this doesn’t count as a fun fact because this is just a story of one of the greatest crime couples to ever exist,” Eddie says excitedly, rambling on about the two.

Steve sits back, cheeks hurting from smiling a little too hard as he listens to Eddie and tries not to linger too much on the fact he compared the two of them to a real life couple.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The phone calls continue every day, but the fun facts really are just a starting point to a long drawn out conversation about whatever’s on their mind.

Robin has pretended to get tired whenever Steve calls her right after Eddie has to hang up or spends hours talking about Eddie during their shift at the Family Video. But he knows she’s secretly just as enthralled about the fun facts as he is.

“Did you know that the Statue of Liberty wears a size eight hundred seventy nine shoe?” Steve asks Robin, still in disbelief over the fact.

“Sounds like you’re talking about me,” Eddie says, somehow coming into the store without Steve noticing.

Steve’s heart beats a little harder as he turns to him. “All good things of course,” Steve says with a wink.

“I was scared you were passing off my facts to Buckley as if they were your own for a second there,” Eddie says, leaning across the the counter.

“And what if I was?” Steve challenges, leaning on the counter.

“Then, I would have to revoke my daily fun fact.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “You’d never.”

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe you’ll just have to see.”

Steve just laughs and shoves his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing here though? Coming to deliver my fun fact in person?”

Eddie blushes and looks down. “No, I was actually just… wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Steve says automatically, not even stopping to think if he has any other plans.

“I’ll see you after your shift then?” Eddie asks, tilting his head a bit.

“I’ll see you then,” Steve confirms with a smile.

Eddie nods and turns to leave.

“Oh, wait!” Steve calls out.

Eddie turns around.

“You haven’t told me your fun fact for today.”

Eddie smiles. “You’ll just have to wait until tonight. After all, it’s a pretty good excuse to make sure you come over.”

Steve scoffs, “As if that’s the only reason.”

Eddie just pulls his hair in front of his face as his smile gets a little wider. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” Steve says, waggling his fingers at him.

“Holy shit,” Robin says, startling Steve. “I thought you said your crush was hopeless.”

Steve just shrugs. “It’s Eddie, he flirts with everyone.”

“Not like that.”

Steve pauses and thinks back on their conversation and all the flirtatious banter leading up to this moment. Maybe she’s right, but also he remembers… “Did you know that bubble wrap was invented by accident?”

Robin runs a hand over her face and says, “You two are going to be the death of me, I can already tell.”

Steve just smiles and thinks maybe they will be.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, he shows up at Eddie’s, trying not to overthink things too much.

They were just hanging out. Just… two people… hanging out… alone… who flirt all the time…. And one definitely has a major crush on the other.

Eddie opens the door to the trailer immediately after Steve knocks only a single time. “I heard your car pull up,” he explains as soon as the door is open.

“Been lingering at the door for long?” Steve teases.

“Hours,” Eddie replies dramatically. But there’s a hint of nervous energy that Steve can’t help but pick up on. “Come on in.”

Steve steps inside and is hit with the smell of spaghetti and breadsticks. “Did you make dinner?”

“Nah, I picked it up from Enzo’s,” Eddie says with a smile before closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch where two plates are laid out. “I thought we could… watch a movie while we ate or… something.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Steve replies with a smile, noticing the way his response relieves some of the nervous energy that is consuming Eddie.

“Perfect, right this way madam,” he jokes as he leads Steve to the couch with his hand resting on the dip of his lower back.

Steve sits down and can’t help but ask, “So, what fun fact did you make me wait for?”

Eddie freezes and curses, “Shit, you were supposed to ask that after all of this.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?” He asks nervously.

Eddie fidgets with his rings and mumbles, “Okay, you can do it.” Then, he turns back to Steve and says, “Fun fact… I’ve been dying to ask you out for a while now, and… I was hoping that this could be a date? And further fun fact, I will absolutely shut up forever if I read things wrong, and I’m so sorry if I did. Oh shit. Did I? Because really, I thought-”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts him quickly, placing a hand over his. “I think it’s finally time that I share a fun fact with you.”

Eddie nods, eyes wide and scared.

“Fun fact,” Steve says and takes a deep breath, “I’m really upset that you beat me to asking you out because I’m a damn chicken. And fun fact, I’ve liked you since I saw you interacting with Dustin for the first time. And you can confirm the fact with Robin who I told while I thought I was on my deathbed.”

Eddie’s expression slowly morphs from fear to relief to happiness. “And that’s really all a fact?”

“Yes. Fun ones I hope.”

“Very very fun,” Eddie says with a laugh. He worries his bottom lip before saying, “Fun fact, I really want to kiss you.”

“Fun fact,” Steve echoes cheesily. “I would love to kiss you.”

And he does exactly that.

(Later on, Steve calls Robin from Eddie’s house and yells, “Fun fact, I just kissed Eddie!” Into the phone so loudly that Robin complains that his “fun fact” is giving her ear damage. But she also lets him know that she’s happy for him, as long as he doesn’t keeps phrasing everything as a fun fact.

Only, Steve can’t help it, when everything involving Eddie becomes the best facts he knows.)

[codtrashsammy]

oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts

okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3

also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.

if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3

You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.

But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.

ba ba baba ba

With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.

A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.

So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.

Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.

Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!

Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.

You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.

"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.

"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.

You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.

So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.

Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

There's apparantly a ratty little blanket that Astarion brings with him into whatever tents and caverns he goes to that has been dubbed his "safety blanket"-- and now I'm obsessed with seeing a ficlet about that. *puppy eyes* <3

Hiiiii sorry for the long wait. Been busy since school started and also really tired. Hope you enjoy!

You let out a quiet sigh, staring up at the roof of the tent as you have been for the past…you've lost count how long it's been since you first laid down in your shared bedroll with Astarion. Tomorrow is the day you take the fight back to Ketheric Thorm and despite knowing that his immortality has been removed, you can't help but feel nervous about the fight that lies ahead.

Turning over to your side, you realise Astarion is just as restless as you are, and is fiddling with the worn blanket you've caught only glimpses of previously. He hugs it closely to his chest, playing with a corner of the fabric and you lean in closer.

"Can't sleep either?"

Astarion scowls in response, quickly stashing his worn blanket away and turns over to face you, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss to your lips. You smile when his gaze softens, even if it's just for that split second and laugh when he huffs in response.

"I was about to trance when you disturbed me."

"Sure you were," you hum, tucking a white curl behind his ear. You feel him shift, pressing closer against you and feel his arms wrap themselves around your waist. Each breath you let out ruffles his hair and you feel his cool skin beneath your fingertips. His ratty blanket peeks out from where he hastily tucked it beneath the corner of his pillow and you gently pry it out, the rough fabric scratching against your skin.

"I'm surprised you keep something like this. I pegged you for someone who prefers luxury and comfort."

You feel Astarion tense, his clawed fingertips pricking your skin and you shift, wondering if you should give him some space. Your worried gaze meets his crimson eyes and you sense a hint of sorrow in those eyes. He shakily inhales, then exhales and crumples into your embrace.

"That…" His voice trails off. "That's one of the few things I ever owned. Before you, before all of this."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have."

He shakes his head, "you were bound to find out about this some day."

He blindly reaches for the blanket, hugging it to his chest when you hand it to him. He looks so small, so vulnerable when he curls around the blanket, it makes your heart ache for him. His scars shine pale underneath the moonlight, yet another reminder of the life he once led, of the shackles he has yet to fully throw off. In that moment you vow silently once more to help him strike his chains off, to watch as he tastes true freedom.

When Astarion speaks again, his voice is soft, the complete opposite of his usual tone.

"All the spawn always fought over the beds in our room, all the beds except one, tucked away in the corner. That bed was always reserved for me, everyone knew I always came back covered in fluids and no one wanted to go anywhere near the bed that was possibly contaminated with those fluids. No one wanted to touch the blanket on it either, but I was fine with that. It meant the bed was mine, the blanket was mine, and I was happy about it. Cazador stole everything from me — my life, my body, my everything. To have something to call my own, it made me happier than anything ever could. It felt like a small defiance in Cazador's face, to still retain something when he tried to strip me of everything. When I fled the castle, the only thing I could bring along was this blanket and the clothes on my back."

He plays with a loose thread dangling from the edge of the blanket, letting you gently rub circles on his back. He presses against you, leaning into your warm touch. You press a kiss to the top of his head, relishing in the comfort your beloved vampire brings simply by being right next to you.

"I'm surprised it's still in one piece," you trace a finger over the fabric, feeling the little bumps where it has been stitched over. "Did you patch the holes up yourself?"

"Of course I did. As if I'd let anyone else touch something so precious."

Still, he makes no motion to pull his precious blanket away from you. Your hands brush against each other, sending tingles up your spine, a quiet chuckle slipping from your lips.

"Will you teach me how to sew?" His eyes widen at your suggestion, and then the smirk you're all too familiar with forms on his face.

"Under my tutelage? You'll learn well, but you won't ever be as good as me."

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "That's all I need."

He smiles a genuine smile that lets his fangs peek through, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Underneath the moonlight he looks ethereal, the moon's glow outlining his figure. He then closes the distance between the both of you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that you wish will never end, but your lungs beg for oxygen and you are forced to break the kiss.

"You have more than just the blanket now. I am yours, every fibre of my being, forevermore." You press your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you breathe in his familiar scent. He cradles you in return, soaking in the warmth you exude.

When you open your eyes once again, there's a glimmer in his eyes that wasn't there before. He nuzzles into your shoulder, smiling contentedly and drifts off into a trance, his worn blanket left forgotten. You hold him in your arms, feeling sleep finally take over, all stress forgotten.

There are words left unsaid, but they will be spoken in due time, that you're sure of. After all, a life waits for you at the end of this journey, wherever it may bring you. Somehow deep down, you know this to be true. The words can wait until the time is right, but until then, you're contented to know that you are his and nothing can ever change that.

[lexirosewrites]

This Slick Sunday I'm thinking about older (early/mid 40s) Omega Steve being stuck in a marriage of convenience to "Beta With a Complex" Tommy. Who doesn't ask, but tells Steve that he's opening the marriage because "your libido isn't very high anymore and I have needs, Steve. It's the least you can do for me."

Steve isn't as upset about it as he thought he would be - he's honestly kind of grateful that Tommy will be making someone else endure the mediocre sex for once. And then one day Tommy messages him.

Met a girl, going out tonight. Don't wait up.

Something about that stings, and Steve decides to actually listen to Tommy for once. He goes to a bar that's a little out of the way because he doesn't want to accidentally bump into Tommy and his date by going to their regular spot.

And that's where he meets Eddie. An Alpha who is probably too young for Steve (he's 29, but still), who looks at Steve like he's a treasure, not a prize.

Eddie, who calls him baby and sweetheart, who tells him that he's beautiful, and makes Steve actually feel desired for the first time in a long time.

Eddie, who takes Steve home and makes him come more times in a single night than he thinks Tommy has in their entire marriage.

It makes Steve realize how neglected he's been, especially when he wakes up the next morning to pancakes and coffee and realizes that Tommy has never once made him breakfast before, for any reason. When Eddie asks about the sudden sour tang to his scent, Steve explains, and the Alpha frowns.

"You deserve so much better, Stevie. You deserve to be doted on, to be cared for."

Tommy is pissed when Steve comes home smelling like Alpha, and Steve throws in his face that Tommy is the one who wanted the open marriage. How he isn't allowed to complain because he still smells like perfume and unfamiliar Omega.

Steve continues to see Eddie, and when Tommy has one too many failed dates he tries to close the relationship, only to be served with divorce papers Steve had his lawyer draw up.

The divorce is clean thanks to their prenup, and it's barely a week after everything is settled that Eddie gives Steve his first official courting gift. - @matchingbatbites <3

oh fuck yeah! i love a good divorce ficlet where steve realizes his worth and gets to be appreciated by someone who will actually love and cherish him!💕

[dalliancekay]

We'll be Okay

(I posted something similar on Twitter so I will here too just in case someone needs to hear it, have a little comfort)

The husbands that hold our hearts together are a story that has a happy ending. They belong together, they always have and always will. We will see it eventually too.

There isn't a single universe where they don't end up in each other's arms. And if you think of them as existing before and after the Universe has, they always find a way to each other within it and outside it too. Whatever the fate throws at them. So their story is in a way finished, they are one. And we are going to see how. One version of it. The one Terry wanted for them. The others are outlined in the many many artworks this talented fandom is sharing now for 3 and half decades. And I have a feeling will do even a long time from now.

And remember, don't ever feel bad for loving something good, something beautiful. The fault here is not with you, it never is, it is entirely with someone else. Remember this if you ever fall for a wrong person, give your friendship to someone who hurts, uses you. Your love and your kindness is not diminished by someone who harms others and you are certainly not to blame for your trust. Loving things, being kind and enthusiastic and open are good qualities. We need more of this. Don't let the shadows of the world lessen your light. This is not what you deserve. This is on them.

GO3 will be made. Share your fav art. Love. Widely. (in both senses of the world)

I write (if it can be called that) tiny lil' ficlets where the husbands are happy, or talking about the things that worry them because I feel that's what they need (but is most likely what I need). Please do feel free to share and reblog with your comforts!

[ahllohehn]

HERMITS AND THE OLYMPIANS MASTERPOST (07/31/2024)

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

Hermits and The Olympians/Emperors of Olympus is a Hermitcraft/Empires SMP based Percy Jackson AU based off my art and headcanons!

(Please do not use the tags for other PJO AUs as I use them to specifically label what's based off mine.)

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

Seperated by art/doodles, headcanons/discussion, fanfics:

# 1 MUMBO PORTRAIT # 2 GRIAN, PEARL, SCAR & MUMBO ART # 3 HaTO FAN CREATION GUIDELINES # 4 GEM, CLEO, DOC PORTRAITS # 5 ETHO & BDUBS THANK YOU CARD # 6 STRESSMONSTER THANK YOU CARD # 7 CAMP EMPIRES FIRST APPEARANCE; BAD BOYS DOODLE # 8 OUTDATED CAMPERS GODLY PARENT SUMMARY # 9 CHIBI MUMBO THANK YOU CARD # 10 GRIAN CLOSE UP # 10.5 WATCHERS CAMEO??? # 11 BDUBS & SCAR; DEMETER CABIN'S HONORARY CAMPER # 12 RENDOG PORTRAIT # 13 MUMSCARIAN / RE: AU SHIPS # 14 IS THERE A CANON PLOT? Answer: I stick with what is canon to me, but I do not force others to follow so. As I am too lazy to do an actual plot. # 15 CHIBI STRESS & MUMBO # 16 BDUBS..? # 17 ETHO PORTRAIT / 1ST AU FICLET # 18 I JUST THINK THEATER KID ARES KID REN IS FUNNY # 19 JOEL AND LIZZIE; SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE # 20 ORACLE GEM...? # 21 oh snappers! (LOW QUALITY ETHO DOODLE) # 22 AT THIS POINT, DIONYSUS, ARES, AND APOLLO SHOULD FIGHT TO THE DEATH TO SEE WHO GETS CUSTODY OF REN # 23 SKIZZ & IMPULSE PORTRAITS / HEADCANONS # 24 ZEDAPH PORTRAIT

# 25 Camp Oracle’s Journal; Hermits and The Olympians # 26 GRIAN - THE DEATHLY ACTIVITIES MANAGER # 27 ISKALL & TANGO PORTRAITS # 28 KERALIS & XISUMA'S PERSONALLY MADE CAMP PIN # 29 I REALLY LIKE MAKING FUN OF REN /AFFE # 30 I ALSO REALLY LIKE INCLUDING MARTYN INTO THE MIX /AFFE

# 31 TREEBARK ARE MY BOYFAILURES # 32 RENDERED CAMP LOGOS (PNGS IN DISCORD SERVER) # 33 SHELBY & SCOTT PORTRAITS # 34 ETHUBS MY BELOVEDS :) # 35 INTRODUCING: GIGGS # 36 RE: CAMP EMPIRES AND CAMP HERMITCRAFT DOUBLES # 37 LET OLD MEN BOND LIKE OLD MEN (ETHO & TANGO) # 38 OFFICIAL HaTO DISCORD SERVER ANNOUNCEMENT # 39 MYTHICALSAUSAGE PORTRAIT # 40 XISUMA PORTRAIT # 41 HaTO FIRST COMIC SHITPOST # 42 FALSE, KERALIS, & BEEF PORTRAITS # 43 WELS & HYPNO PORTRAITS # 44 MUMSCARIAN FIRST MEETING DOODLE # 45 WHY IS WELS AN ATHENA KID? # 46 HOW IS GEM THE ORACLE # 47 HaTO SECOND COMIC SHITPOST (PRIDE MONTH) # 48 DESERT DUO ANIMATIC; INSPIRED BY BEAN'S TRAITOR SCAR FIC

# 49 MARTYN PORTRAIT / HEADCANONS # 50 IF SCAR WERE TO BE APHRODITE'S.... # 51 REN VS JARS # 52 LIZZIE PORTRAIT # 53 HaTO SCAR & GEM EMOTES # 54 HaTO CHIBIS BOUQUET DOODLE # 55 GRIAN AND HIS SON # 56 KATHERINE ELIZABETH PORTRAIT # 57 MUMSCARIAN MATCHING ICONS FOR PRIDE # 58 HOW ARE YEAR ROUNDERS GETTING EDUCATION? # 59 SHINY DUO MATCHING ICONS # 60 AROACE PEARL (PRIDE MONTH) # 61 BISEXUAL CLEO (PRIDE MONTH) # 62 CAMP CUDDLE SESSIONS # 63 TREEBARK COMEBACK # 64 When Does a Man Become a Monster?; Hermits and The Olympians

# 65 BOAT BOYS MATCHING ICONS # 66 WHAT DOIN'? CAMP HERMITCRAFT EDITION # 67 "I'M A CHILD OF DIVORCE" GESTURES TO ETHUBS # 68 MORE ETHUBS HEADCANONS CUS IM GAY AND SO ARE THEY # 69 DO NOT ANGER THE NON-ZOMBIE WOMAN, MR. ETHO # 70 NATURE WIVES # 71 I COMPLAIN ABOUT THE HEPHAESTUS CABIN'S ABILITIES # 72 TREEBARK MATCHING ICONS # 73 OLI PORTRAIT & HEADCANONS # 74 IT'S NOT ME IF THERE'S NO ETHUBS # 75 WELCOME TO HERMITCRAFT: GRIAN TEXT ADVENTURE # 76 GEM'S ORACLE CAVE TOUR

#77 THE BOYS (+ GEM) GO SHOPPING FOR SUITS #78 PEARL CHARACTER CARD #79 Camper Files; Hermits and The Olympians #80 STRESS PORTRAIT #81 CUBFAN PORTRAIT #82 FWHIP PORTRAIT

#83 PIXLRIFFS PORTRAIT #84 RANCHERS #85 WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH TREEBARK IN MY INBOX? #86 IDK HOW SAD I'M SUPPOSED TO MAKE SCOTT #87 LONG TIME, NO NATURE WIVES? #88 AREN'T WE ALL A LITTLE SILLY FOR GRIAN SOMETIMES? #89 I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW I JUST BE SAYING ANYTHING ATP

# SECOND MASTERPOST LINK

OTHER HaTO Related Links:

HaTO Roleplay Blogs Masterpost by gem-the-oracle HaTO Archive of Our Own Series HaTO Discord Server

[melancholiaincarnate]

hell-bent

warnings: brief descriptions of pain and injuries

note: helloo :3 this is another little ficlet to this fic . im going to make a series masterlist - eventually - but i cannot be bothered to do so right now. anyways - if u wanna see more of them lmk or send in requests hehehehehe

"oh she is the cutest!" feyre swoons, her arms extending towards the child that's hiding behind temperance.

"say hi, piper." you look down and behind your legs to where the girl is clutching onto your pant thighs. though she's got a small fear in her eyes, she still peeks out slightly, taking in the view of your family. five very intense pairs of eyes stare back at her. "it's okay, pip." you whisper, "they're my family."

"hello everyone." she says softly, her voice no higher than the squeak of a small kitchen mouse. "where's azzy?" she questions, looking up and big eyes stare at you.

rhys looks at feyre, a knowing smirk playing upon his face, and a matching one on hers. they've both got that look in their eyes that they get when they're communicating through the bond - you roll your eyes knowing that they're never going to let azriel live down the nickname.

"he'll be here soon. he's just a little busy right now." you smooth down her hair with a gentle hand and she frowns, stepping behind you more as cassian approaches, a grin on his features.

"since when do you have a kid?" he questions, crouching down to eye level with piper. he cranes his neck to attempt to see her but she tucks herself behind you even more. "ooh! lemme guess the father. lemme guess - it's az, isn't it! i always knew you two were fucking."

"she's not mine. and watch your mouth." you huff, kicking cassian lightly and he topples over. "remember the mission rhys sent me on?" cassian nods from his spot on the floor. "i found her." you wince at your choice of words - you definitely could've phrased that better. piper seems to be unaffected by your words, instead choosing to let her shadows sniff out cassian.

"what do you mean you found her? you can't just take people's kids, dude. that's super illegal." cassian scoffs, "how do you 'find' a kid and just take her? rhys, that has to be illegal-" he sits up, but his eyes furrow as he sees little tendrils of black whirling around his arms. "isn't that-"

"there's another shadowsinger in velaris." rhys muses from his spot at the table. "we thought it best for her to come here and train here with our shadowsinger."

"so you just.. took her?" cassian looks bewildered, "dude.. this high lord shit has to have some rules to it. you can't just take kids!" he stands up, stretching, before peeking around your legs to see pip staring back at him. "hi." he grins, "i'm cassian." then, he bends down to whisper, "i'm kind of the coolest one here. everyone else here sucks."

"pip, don't listen to him. he's a moron." you sigh and hear little giggles from behind you, whispers of shadows trailing up your arms. there was one shadow though, that stayed nestled in your neck. it didn't belong to the girl, no, it was one of azriel's shadows that had seemed to take a strong liking to you and preferred you over its master.

"you're very silly mr. cassian." she comments, peeking out a little more. you're grateful for cassian's resolve and the things he's seen - you don't know what you'd do if he made piper feel any worse about her current condition. you don't know what azriel would do if he found out that someone dared look at piper with disgust.

piper steps out and the inner circle holds their breaths. her left eye has a deep scratch on it that stretches from her eyebrow to right underneath her eye. it seems to be healing well, but it settles painfully in everyone's gut to see such a large scar on a pure face.

the rest of her face is filled with smaller scratches. thankfully ones that won't scar. no one's seen it yet - but if piper turned around there would be a missing pair of wings on her back.

no one comments. based on the way cassian and rhys look - they're ready to kill whoever did this to this girl, and they'd only known her for less than an hour. even nesta, normally cold-faced, looks full of anger.

piper pulls on your pant leg and points to the table. you hold her hand and her limping does not go unnoticed by your family. she's relearning to walk without the weight of her wings - and feyre's eyes widen once she realizes.

piper's movements are stiff and the table is silent. for the first time in years, the entire house is silent.

conversation starts up as you help pile food onto piper's plate. despite her condition, her eyes still sparkle with glee. as soon as she puts her first spoon in her mouth, the door to the dining room opens and piper turns quickly,.

"azzy!" everyone is blown back by how loud her shriek is. they're even more surprised at how fast she manages to sprint across the dining room and into azriel's arms, despite her condition. "you came back!"

he picks her up, balancing her on one hip with ease. "told ya i would, pip." his voice is soft as he pats the top of her head. their shadows intertwine and zip around the two of them, as if they were doing their own catching up. "did you do your training today?"

"i did!" her movements have caught up to her and she leans against his legs for support, her breathing becoming labored. he notices, and shadows come to swirl around her legs, ready to catch her if she falls. "i walked all the way down the stairs today! by myself!"

the inner circle watches in awe as the shy little girl they'd just seen exploded into personality at the sight of the quiet and stoic spymaster. rhys smiles to himself - he knew that bringing the girl here was a good idea.

"that's great progress, pip." azriel's voice is laced with exhaustion. his eyes finally catch yours - but only because he felt the pool of your emotions in his chest. he nods softly at you, once to tell you he's okay, and he watches your shoulders relax. "tomorrow we're going to go to the healer's again. she wants to -" azriel glances at the inner court, "she wants to check up on you."

"okay." she smiles, "maybe we can walk there! and i can do it by myself this time!"

"i think you can do it, pip." azriel hums, "how about we go eat? i'm starving." he looks up at you, and smiles again, "and then we can go back to your room and finish that puzzle." "yes!" piper nods quickly, "yes, please!" she holds onto azriel's hand for support, and doesn't flinch when her hands touch his marred ones.

azriel sits between you and piper, his eyes watching every single person at the table as they interact with the girl. they may be his family, but if one person - even his own brothers, made a wrong move, he'd flip the table over. his protection for the girl ran deep - so much so that it worries him.

his shadows whisper that it's alright - his protection is justified. they whisper he'll never have to act to protect her, they'll do it for him. and they whisper that if he does have to act, it'll be justified. they whisper to him that the carnage he'd bring for this girl is justified.

so azriel lets his worries go. they're right.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

Hello, sweetheart! I was wondering if you could do Alastor with an overlord reader? I was imagining reader having water based abilities and a blue theme to them! I also imagined the reader being a lot shorter than him (cause he’s like 7 feet tall).Like how would he react to reader being able to summon a tsunami and drowning a bunch of sinners, but being an absolute sweetheart at the same time! Please ignore this if you feel uncomfortable!

~Angel <3

hi angel!!! i can totally do that! thank you for your request and your patience on this!!!

i would love to do this! i’m doing this more in a head cannon/ficlet format, but i may come back to this to make a full fic.

i hope you enjoy!! ☺️

alastor first noticed how short you were. you were tiny

at least to him.

but he’s like 7 feet tall and you kept your human height of 5’2 when you descended to hell.

the second thing that he noticed were you were completely opposite of him

your color palette, your disposition and even the way you spoke were all opposites.

you had a mainly blue color palette. your hair was long and blue, your outfit flowy and not really structured, your eyes were the red that overlords though

you were rumored to be powerful but alastor had never seen any display of your power

you were happy and kind of go lucky, you and charlie were almost like two peas in a pod.

that was until one day, someone threatened the hotel and he wasn’t there.

Idiot sinners who thought they could beat the radio demon

it was the thought that if the radio demon wasn’t there, it would be fine as no one took charlie seriously.

and you wouldn’t let her dirty her hands on these… cretins

The fire balls soared through as they called out for Alastor. Everyone was running around trying to put out the fires and Alastor wasn’t around. He was in Cannibal Town today visiting Rosie. You sighed and closed your eyes. You made your way to the front ignoring the calls of your name and to watch out. You raised your hands and a shield of water surrounded the hotel. You walked out and stared at the sinners.

“Who are you bitch?” One asked. Looking there seemed to be about 30 sinners who made up this party.

“Yeah! Where’s Alastor?” Another asked, raising a molotov cocktail and getting ready to light it.

“Look, gentleman, why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and we can forget this ever happened.” You say, looking at all of them. There’s a beat of silence and then they all start laughing. You look annoyed and the one who seemed to be the leader spat at your feet.

“Like hell, bitch. Be a good girl and get Alastor.” He said laughing again.

“Oh, you’ll wish you got Alastor.” You said, bringing your hands together and then throwing them in a down motion to the ground. Suddenly chains appeared on all of the sinners. Their eyes widened and the leader started to struggle. You smiled as you reached your hand towards him and he flinched thinking you were going to grab him, but then all of a sudden you closed your fist. The group looked at you confused until the water that held them where they were at started to boil.

You raised your left hand up and the boiling water started to encase their legs slowly. You looked at the leader and smiled.

“Wanna make a deal? I’ll end this pain right now, you give me your soul, never come to this hotel again and are at my beck and call whenever I feel like it. You will do anything I ask of you. Do we have a deal?” You grinned as he cried out his confirmation.

You stopped the water from boiling and proceeded to make the same deal with all 30 sinners, they scampered off afterwards and you let down the shield on the hotel. You looked to your left and saw Alastor there, his eyes wide and his grip on his cane tight. Rosie next to him, grinning.

“Oh hey!” You said nonchalantly.

alastor is enamored

you a little thing so sadistic that you get 30 sinners to make a deal with you at once?

he’s not sure if he truly feels threatened or admired you.

rosie adores you

you shock alastor again when another group of sinners come to the hotel and you don’t even walk outside

the only thing heard is a rumbling, a crash and then quiet. everyone looks outside and sees a tsunami drowning a larger group of sinners than before.

everyone looks at you sitting at the bar, complimenting pentious’ drawing and him beaming at your compliments

you were such a sweetheart but you were terrifying

[whiskersz]

heyy! I’d love to request something for Hazbin Hotel if there’s still space in your inbox! I would like a ficlet of Angel Dust x gn! reader in which he comes back to the hotel after an awful day with Val and just breaks down when he sees them. Then reader can take care of him, give him a hug and prepare a warm bath and comfy clothes for him because he must feel uncomfortable wearing his “work clothes” after such a bad day… I just want to hold him and wipe his smudged makeup off and tell him that everything will be okay 🫂🫂

obv feel free to ignore this if it doesn’t inspire you!

Hey there! This is...kinda long, hope that's okay!! (1k words or so) Also had a mildly irritating day today so writing this was therapeutic, even though I started this yesterday. Anyhow, hope you enjoy :3

Angel x Gn!Reader - Solace

First came the thunder, then the blaring sound of a car door being slammed close. It was a particularly gloomy evening in Hell, heavy drops of rain battered against the walls of the Hazbin Hotel, which seemed uncharacteristically quiet besides the occasional cheery tune sang by Niffty, who was still dealing with cleaning.

Your head shot up at the sound of the tires of the limousine screeching outside, and you quickly threw your phone aside as you guessed you would be dealing with more important matters tonight, seeing as your boyfriend Angel had returned later than usual.

That was never a good sign.

Picking up a random umbrella from the stand placed near the entrance of the Hotel, you swiftly opened the door after pressing the button on the little remote designed to unlock the gate outside.

The air was frigid, yet you still made your way towards Angel, who seemed to be trudging himself more than walking. As you shielded him from the rain, his baggy eyes met yours, and he immediately threw himself in your arms, wetting your clothes with the rain water he was soaked in.

“Shit, they didn’t even give you an umbrella?” you hissed, walking him inside; “What happened today Angel?”

You didn’t think he could’ve furrowed his eyebrows more. Tears prickled his eyes as he answered you;

“Let’s not...talk about it.”

The lack of pet names in his sentence and wiliness in his voice concerned you greatly. Even Husk refrained from offering him a drink, focusing on the glass he was rinsing instead.

Angel didn’t even bother saying hello to the rest of the residents of the Hotel, opting to stay by your side as you led him to his room. Once you finally closed the door and you could have a moment of privacy, he let a sob escape his mouth, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his figure.

Despite being taller than you he still hid his head in the crook of your neck, holding onto you for dear life as you gently drew circles on his back with one hand and massaged his scalp with the other. You could feel that his hair was a mess, wet and tangled, yet you still placed kisses on the top of his head and whispered sweet nothings in the hope that he’d calm down.

He tried letting himself fall onto his bed, but you steadied him;

“Baby,” you murmured, “you’re soaked. How about a bath first, hm?”

His clothes were also not the most appropriate for cuddling and resting, you noticed.

He gave you a weak nod and reluctantly separated his body from yours, letting you hold his hand and walk with him to his private bathroom.

You had done this before; your hand reached for the soft pink chair he had placed behind the door and dragged it near his bathtub, then for the various products Angel usually used when he took a bath or a shower. Shampoo and conditioner for his hair, his comb, body wash, his sponge and finally his fancy bathrobe. You neatly placed everything within arm’s reach and turned on the faucet, turning your gaze back to Angel.

“I think it’s only fair if I take care of you tonight. If you’re okay with it, of course?” you asked him with a soft smile. He returned it.

“Of course. It’s just...”

You didn’t fully get it at first, but then he gestured to his body with one set of his arms, holding himself with the other, and you finally got what he was trying to tell you.

“I told you so many times love. I’m not disgusted by you, I’m disgusted by...what he does to you.” Your mind dared wandering to Valentino, and you asked yourself what he could’ve done to your partner that night. You decided not to dwell on it for the time being.

Angel let out a sigh, starting to undress. You had seen each other’s bodies many times before, but you still turned around out of respect and focused on your nails until he was done and inside the bathtub, which had been filled with warm water in the meantime.

Your gaze fell on a little box placed on the edge of the tub; opening it, you fished out a spider web shaped bath bomb; in the corner of your eye you could see Angel’s expression brightening a little, and a smile naturally grew on your face.

“I think you deserve some fun.” You stated, plopping it into the water, which immediately started fizzing around it.

Angel relaxed, leaning his back against the wall behind him, and slid slightly deeper into the water as you sat down on the chair you had dragged nearby earlier. Silence temporarily filled the bathroom as you both observed the bath bomb shrink, tinting the water a bright pink with sparkles.

Soon afterwards you found yourself going through your usual bad day’s routine with Angel; gently wiping off the smeared makeup on his face, massaging the shampoo on his scalp – you were the only one allowed to touch his hair like this – and talking about your own day to him as he washed his body to distract him from the bad thoughts he got just from the sight of the rope burns on his wrists. You had to bite back a vexed insult directed at Valentino when your eyes fell on those.

You decided to prepare some comfortable clothes for him as he dried his hair; settling on a cute but comfortable pink sweatshirt and shorts of the same color, you neatly folded them on his bed and sat beside them, noticing that someone had dropped your phone off while you were busy bathing with Angel. Most likely Husk, you thought; you mindlessly scrolled on your socials until you heard the bathroom’s door open.

Angel emerged from it, fluffy hair held back from his forehead by a headband and his body kept warm by his bathrobe.

“Oh, you’re done. Here’s your clothes sweetheart,” you handed them to him, and he thanked you with a kiss. Your attention returned on your phone for a short while as he was dressing himself up.

You heard him sigh at some point though; you curiously looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“Would it be too much sugar...to ask for cuddles tonight?” he asked with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

Throwing your phone aside you shook your head, and opened your arms as an invitation. He swiftly took it and climbed into bed, positioning himself in your lap. Your arms draped across the small of his back and he breathed out contently, nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

You both listened to the rain outside incessantly falling down, and you softly leaned backwards until your back touched the mattress. As Angel’s breaths steadied and he began quietly snoring you looked down at him, your heart filled with warmth.

I’ve got you now, you thought, breathing in his scent; he can’t hurt you as long as you’re with me.

[zoroshonkingbazonkadonkas]

Fic masterpost

One piece

Onigiri can't flirt (but the cook sure can) (zosan oneshot/ 2k/ G)

Zoro’s good eye had widened a bit. “Don’t want you ruining perfectly good onigiri with moss,” Sanji said with a smirk. or: the one in which Sanji's Plans™ go awry (but in a good way)

No matter where you go (zosan oneshot/ 2.7k/ G)

Hadn’t the annoying swordsman been walking beside him when he’d walked across the street? And there was the fountain he definitely remembered having the mossball beside him. Could he be somewhere nearby? Maybe a little bit to the- “OI. MARIMO. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE THE WATER, YOU BUFFOON?” Welp. At least he’d found him. ~~~ or: the one in which Zoro keeps getting lost, and Sanji is the only one who can find him

A flower in his hair (zosan oneshot/ 828/ G)

“Uh.” Zoro scratched the back of his head. “It’s a bracelet. I know you have a ton of them already, but I saw it and thought it was made for you. It’s almost the exact shade of blue your eyes are.”

How did we end up here? (zosan multichap (2/3)/ 5k/ G)

“Your eyes are blue.” Sanji blinked. “Uh. Yeah?” Zoro was looking at him with a solemn expression. “No like. Really blue. And pretty.” orrrrr: Sedated! Zoro, suffering Sanji

Taking the long way home (zosan oneshot/ 3.5k/ T)

The next thing he knew- he was being hoisted up by a pair of thick, strong arms. Ah. His response was probably taken as a no, then. His body was so warm. It was pretty unfair. or: the one in which Sanji gets sick and is stupid about it (because of course) and Zoro is. less stupid

Hash brown, egg yolk (zosan multichap (1/2)/ 9.3k/ T)

Opening the door to the bath, he was met with the sight of Sanji crouching down, testing the water. He had his back to him, and the kitten was still nuzzling into Sanji’s neck. For a split second, he wished that it was him in her place. That thought, along with the heat that had bloomed in his face as he’d thought so, was promptly forgotten when the kitten extended her little paws towards him, mewing insistently, as if to say, ‘Take me back, bitch’. or: Zosan + kitten

The magic cookbook (zosan oneshot/ 558/ G)

Our boy Usopp is a master story teller as one might say! His latest story is about Sanji and the latest cookbook he purchased. Little does the blond know: this particular cookbook is removed from the ordinary, for the seller is no other than Roronoa Zoro: Wizard Extraordinaire! or: this zosan server prompt got a little bit out of hand note: there will be an extended version of this ficlet

Something just like this (zosan oneshot/ 588/ G)

“You look cute.” Sanji very nearly spews his tea out.

perhaps i'm a little bit obsessed with Zoro noticing Sanji's eyes. just a tad

[strandsofgold]

For @reallyhatethiswebsite, hope you like it and thank you for the prompt <3 I am so so sorry that this took as long as it did, but I loved this prompt so much that I couldn't physically stop myself from turning it into way more than the short, little ficlet it was supposed to be. Whoops. Prompt: Tav nuts before Raphael does for once 👀

TW: Implied non-con (just to be safe), but I would sooner say very dubious consent because deep down there is a part of Tav that deeply enjoys Raphael's treatment of her Kink tags: Belly bulge, forced orgasms, rough sex, choking (kind of), painful sex, cervix-bumping, inappropriate use of mage hand

A Little Death

It is a sudden thing, her orgasm. It seises her, knocks the wind out of her, thighs shaking as that thin string of restraint snaps as if it was sliced in two by the tip of a claw. It drags her to the highest of highs, even when her muscles burn and her breasts ache, the pleasure overwhelms and drowns any discomfort she may have had.

A gasp, pitiful even to her own ears, spills from her mouth, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

When Raphael stills, so does the world.

Where she once rode him with abandon, his cock lodged deep inside her, his hips raising every now and again to meet her halfway between the bed and her, there is now nothing but quiet and stillness and the unceasing pressure of his fingers digging into the meat of her waist as he holds her still.

And Tav, in turn, does her best to quiet down and subdue her body as well, but she cannot—she truly cannot—her heart thundering away in her chest and cunt clenching around him as if trying to force him to meet his end just as soon as her. Sweat drips down the sides of her face. Her rapid breathing only intensifies when she looks down at him, her eyes meeting the amber brown of his iris.

He looks decadent in his human form, just as he always does. But there is a storm brewing in the fine lines of his face. A twitch at the corner of his eyes. The beginning of furrow by his brows.

"I—" She tries, she desperately tries to make it up to him—"I am sorry."

When that garners her no reaction other than the flare of his nostrils, she attempts to move once again, attempts to roll her hips—attempts to emulate Haarlep who would simply keep going in order to satisfy their master and distract him from the slight made against him.

But she is not Haarlep.

Raphael tuts, lighthearted almost, as the corners of his mouth stretch upwards. But his smile is all teeth, a violent kind of glee in his eyes as his grip on her waist tightens, finely trimmed, human nails digging into her skin. Thankfully, they are not sharp enough to draw blood.

He only ever makes her blood in his true form.

"So insatiable, little mouse," is all he says before Tav's world spins on its axis.

In the span of a second, she is beneath him, hands pinned on each side of her head. He is still inside her, his cock twitching every now and again—it betrays his interest, his desire.

Raphael looks at her, all smug and... calm. Too calm. His tail lazily swishes to and fro behind him. It is frightening.

As he is now, Raphael is unpredictable.

When they fuck—and it is fucking, they are not lovers, no matter how often Raphael refers to himself as such—it is always about his pleasure, first and foremost. He 'indulges' her, as he likes to say. And there are rules to these indulgences; some have been explicitly stated—'Do not touch my wings, you ingrate!'—whereas others have been implicit, recognisable only through their repeated pattern.

This is one of the implicit ones: Raphael always comes first.

Always. No exceptions.

Tav retreats—as much as she can—presses herself into the bed as if it will swallow her if she merely sinks far enough down. It is the closest thing to escape she will have tonight.

And Raphael, the bastard, laughs at her, that rich, smooth laughter that reminds her of fine brandy ringing in her ears.

"Why so gloomy, oh apple of my eye?" he asks her—mocks her, really, head tilted and eyes widened in the closest thing to innocence a devil like him can muster, feigned as it is. "I am nothing if not a magnanimous lover."

Tav is not so naive as to not see the threat for what it is.

Still, the wall of smoke and fire and magic that consumes him as his human glamour falls apart makes you gasp all the same. The flames lick at her skin, fine kisses of warmth a distraction only for so long. Because with the loss of his human figure makes way for his true one. His devil form.

And with the change in appearance—fine, olive skin making way for red, leathery ones—comes a change in size.

He forces her open, her walls stretching to accomodate him, the rim of her already sore cunt aching at his size. He swells and expands until she is on the brink of tears, the skin on the bottom of her belly stretched taut around the bulge that has formed there.

He is no longer fully inside her.

He is barely halfway inside her.

But she is full. Gods, is she full.

She hiccups, squirms beneath his hands, the his now clawed fingers digging into her wrists till it hurts.

"You want your little death?" He leans down, breathes deep as he presses his nose against hers, mouth hovering above her parted lips and whispers, low and venemous, "I will give it to you."

.......................

The violent, rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin is the only thing tethering Tav to reality. That, and the all-consuming, mind-numbing pain and torment that wracks her body at every point of Raphael's movement.

He pounds her into the floor—had her on all fours until her arms gave out—one large hand crushed agains the back of her head where it forces her face into the floor, the other possessively cradling her abdomen where it presses against the bulge that disappears and reappears with each of his sharp thrusts.

It is unending. The pain. The brutality with which he takes her.

She has long stopped fighting to flee.

When she tried to escape after the first dozen orgasms, rolled out of the bed, sore and bruised and desperate to not succumb to yet another forced orgasm, scurrying across the floor on hands and knees, Raphael merely looked on in dull amusement—leisurely commented that, If you wish to be taken on the floor on all fours like a filthy animal, you need only ask, little mouse.

Now she lies still, limp and defeated in his grip, nothing but pathetic little twitches of her hips, vain attempts at evading the mage hand whose sole purpose is to make sure her clit is forever stimulated that force her over the edge again and again and again. Even as Raphael violates her thoroughly and fully, his cock spearing through her, carving out her insides to a point where she feels her organs may have turned to mush.

Again and again and again his cock bumps against her cervix, and the stab of pain that comes with it every time tells her that she is as battered and bruised on the inside as she is on the outside. Every push and pull of his hips has puddles of his hot come spilling out of her. Raphael seems unbothered by the mess, merely continues to fuck his remaining spent into her, along with more every now and again when he too reaches a peak.

Her vision is hazy. Her lungs burn, spots of black flickering in and out of her vision. She can barely breathe.

The pressure on the back of her head eases, but only for a moment, and Tav gasps for precious air as Raphael wraps his fist in her hair and drags her head up—forces her into an even deeper arch, forces her ass to press impossibly closer to his scorching skin, his cock impossibly deeper inside her.

She cries and cries and cries, her tears the only cooling reprieve in the blistering heat that consumes her entire being.

Again, she is forced over the edge, her orgasm burning through her so violently she nearly passes out, thighs trembling from exertion, her poor, abused cunt twitching around him. The drool that has dried on her chin gets replaced with new spit as the gurgles and chokes on her tongue, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

She gets no respite. No mercy.

If anything, the mage hand rubs harder at her clit, pinches and twists to make it hurt that much more as Raphael yanks her even further backwards to a point where her back is nearly against his chest.

Shamefully, she knows she would not have it any other way.

[lathalea]

Congratulations on your followers! 🎉✨🧚🏼‍♀️ I am so happy to see you on my feed that I am not sure what I could even request… Would it be ok to request an Aragorn x reader ficlet with

26. Hurt/Comfort AU and 

5. “You did this for me?” (Maybe Aragorn got protective of the reader and she takes care of his wounds… just a little suggestion)

I am really not sure if I did this right and I apologize in advance if I did something wrong or made you uncomfortable. Thank you for doing this 💜 I hope you have a wonderful day Take care <3

Thank you so much and thank you for your wonderful ask! I hope you will enjoy the story I wrote for you... and I hope you don’t mind I tweaked your prompt a tiiiiiny bit ;)

The Golden Hour 

The sudden battle with the Ringwraiths at Amon Sûl took a toll on everyone. Frodo’s wound was serious — more serious than you have ever seen. It was a Morgul-blade, after all. The other Hobbits were shaken, but unscathed. What a relief. But then you noticed Aragorn clenching his left hand and giving out a slight hiss.

“You’re wounded!” Instantly, you recalled that he held that burning torch in this hand, attacking the wraiths with it mere moments ago.

“It’s nothing, my lady.” He shook his head and examined Frodo’s wound. “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine.”

“Rivendell?” Your gaze met his. There was a frown on his handsome face when he nodded in agreement.

“We have no time to lose,” he said, looking at Frodo's pale face.

“I’ll take him there,” you stated. Your bay mare whinnied in agreement. It would not be your first race against death, and the Ranger knew it well.

After you placed Frodo safely before you, Aragorn gave your hand a squeeze.

“Ride with the grace of Valar.” He spoke with a glint in his eye.

The coarseness of his skin against yours made you tremble a little, and you looked away. You did not want him to read what hid in your eyes. He was the Strider, the legendary Ranger of the North, and you were… well, just you. A girl from nowhere — or everywhere. You met on the trail a couple of months ago and since then you travelled together. Both of you seemed to enjoy each other’s company. You exchanged tales by the fire, sang songs under the stars, or simply rode in silence, admiring the beauty of the landscape ahead of you. 

Then four hobbits joined you in Bree and from their whispered remarks you understood that the Strider was guiding them somewhere. Wandering hobbits were quite unusual, just like their mission had to be, but you never asked any questions. You understood they had their secrets, and you respected it. In the meantime, you scouted the area, took night watches together with Aragorn, and made sure that Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were safe. Now, you were about to do it once again — for Frodo.

And so you rode like the wind, day and night, night and day, fleeing from the black shadows trying to catch up with you. But you and your mare were faster, leaving the dull thudding of their ghastly steeds’ hooves behind.

You crossed the fast-flowing waters of the river Bruinen with haste, and soon you found yourself in the Last Homely House, Lord Elrond’s domain. He was glad to see you in Imladris again and took care of the barely conscious Frodo right away. Elrond’s healing powers were legendary, so you were almost certain that he would succeed. And so he did.

A couple of days later Aragorn and the three hobbits arrived, exhausted and hungry. You could not help but notice how he held his left hand, fisted and close to his chest. There were deep shadows under his eyes.

“Let me see to your hand,” you said, closing the distance between you.

“The hobbits first,” he spoke quietly. You knew his face well by now; it was pale. Too pale for your liking.

That was when lady Arwen arrived, welcoming the new guests. As soon as you exchanged a glance with her, she swiftly moved towards Sam, Merry and Pippin.

“Welcome to Imladris, dear guests. May I offer you a place to rest and something to replenish your strength?” she spoke in her melodious voice, turning to the hobbits. Only then did Aragorn allow you to take him to his quarters.

You rolled up his left sleeve when he sat on his bed, and then you examined his arm. It looked like a large part of his hand and forearm was covered with burns, probably when one of the wraiths attempted his final attack, his robes on fire. You worked slowly, meticulously, and as gently as you could. At the end, you covered his skin with an elvish ointment given to you by lord Elrond and bandaged the worst-looking wounds. It would take some time, but you knew he would be fully healed. 

When you were done with your work, he was already asleep. The only thing you could do was to cover him with a blanket and leave him to rest.

***

A few days later you decided to take a walk in lord Elrond’s gardens. Whenever you visited Rivendell, you liked to stroll through this magical place, but this time you were not alone. On the path ahead of you, you saw a familiar figure bathed in the warm light of the evening sun.

“My lady,” the Ranger bowed his head and you saw how differently he looked from the man you had come to know on the road. Gone was the tiredness from his face and the grime from his clothes. Now, he wore green elvish robes, and his freshly washed hair softly fell onto his shoulders. In the golden light of the setting sun he looked more like a ruler of an ancient realm than a travelling swordsman.

“I have been looking for you,” he added. “I would like to thank you for what you did: for saving Frodo’s life, and with him, perhaps even something greater. And for caring for me when I needed it the most.”

“I haven’t done anything unusual. This is what one does when their travelling companions are in need. How is your arm doing today?” You glanced at his freshly bandaged arm.

“It is better, thanks to you.” A small smile appeared on his face, reaching the grey pools of his eyes. There was something in his gaze that made you smile back at him.

“Tomorrow I will have to leave Rivendell and continue my journey,” Aragorn continued. “It is a perilous one, and I do not know when or if I will return. I would like you to have this as a token of my appreciation. Something to remember me by, perhaps.”

“A necklace? Is that a mountain crystal? You made this for me?” you blinked in disbelief, looking at the crystal glinting golden in the sun, and at the elegantly interwoven leather straps that held it.

“I began making it on the road. They call this kind of crystal the elvenstone. May I?”

“Of course.” You bit your lower lip as Aragorn placed the necklace around your neck. He stood so close to you, you felt the warmth of his fingers brushing against the sides of your neck, and there was that smell of herbs, leather, and pipeweed, one that you could recognize even with your eyes closed.

“So very beautiful…” you whispered, touching the glistening crystal with your fingers.

“Very…” added Aragorn, but his eyes were set on your face. You swallowed.

“I will wear it every day with pride.” You heard yourself say. “But it will not remind me of you because I will be by your side.”

“But… My lady, the journey ahead of me is full of danger, I cannot…” He began, taking your hand in his.

“We have survived quite a few dangerous situations together, haven’t we? I believe we will survive a few more,” you smiled at him, finding golden sparks of sun among the grey clouds of Aragorn’s eyes.

“I believe we will,” your Ranger agreed and you knew that at dawn, you would be riding out from Imladris together.

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