#i’m fairly low on activity on all my muses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enruiinas · 10 months

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MOBILE RULES:

GENERAL/IMPORTANT RULES:

This blog is independent, private, semi-selective, and medium to low activity. IC interactions are limited to mutuals only. I will not follow back if there are no easily accessible rules on your blog or I can't see our muses interacting. AU, OC, and crossover friendly but I'm fairly selective with both.

NSFW material will be present on this blog. The mun is 25+ and a fan of angst, dark themes, spicy/smut scenarios, and more. Smut will be tagged nsfw and hidden beneath a banner and a read more; other common triggering themes will be tagged appropriately. Minors MAY interact at their own risk, but note that I WILL NOT write any spicy/nsfw material with a mun under the age of 18 and would prefer not to write ships with anyone under the age of 20 at all. Any minors attempting to engage in nsfw material or caught lying about their age will be blocked on sight.

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PSA: My muse and overall activity are sporadic. Sometimes I reply to things as soon as they come in; other times it may take me weeks. I go wherever the muse takes me, am prone to hyperfixating on threads, and I openly favor interactions with my affiliates (people I frequently chat with OOC!) I rarely respond to my drafts, asks, etc. in the order they came in. I might like or post meme calls even if I owe things. I might send you memes or unprompted things even if I already owe you things. None of this is meant to be hurtful; it's just how my brain works. For the sake of my mental health and your time, please do not interact if any of these things are a deal-breaker for you.

That said, I like to think I'm a really laid-back RP partner. I'll never rush you for replies, I'm okay with dropped threads, I'm totally fine with (and encourage) you sending me memes or unprompted starters if even if you already "owe" me things... At the end of the day I'm here to have a good time and hope you are as well. Nobody should feel guilt or make others feel guilt over a hobby. If you're feeling it, DO IT - if you're not, you're not. Full stop, no explanation needed.

November 28 2023: This blog’s URL was formerly misfitsandmusings-x, a temporary blog I resorted to when my main (misfitsandmusings) was shadowbanned and subsequently terminated without explanation back in October. I did put in a ticket and am still hoping Tumblr support will eventually come through so I can recover missing tags, asks, HCs, etc. - but seeing as it’s been a full calendar month with no acknowledgement, I’m not holding my breath! Most people have been understanding about this but I wanted to put this in here so those I’m refollowing know what happened. Though the sideblogs underneath it still seem to exist and I get ghost notifications from the main one on Webhooks, I DO NOT have access to anything that was on misfitsandmusings, thebutterflymansion (my KNY multimuse) or scribbleswithsaro (my short lived meme blog; trying to recreate this at @memesbyme).

HOW TO INTERACT:

If we're mutuals, feel free to send me memes, IC asks, headcanon prompts/requests, like my starter or meme calls, etc.

I'm also really interested in chatting with my mutuals ooc as well! I know this isn't everyone's favorite, but for me I find it easier to write with people I chat with on a regular basis. I'm generally very shy, but I value this so much I am 100% willing to reach out and be the outgoing one if you're shy or don't know how. You can literally just IM me like "Hi I want to talk but I'm shy!" and I will be like -cracks knuckles- "I GOT THIS." Mutuals can add me on discord if they prefer to chat there (@ misfitsandmusings). Please just send me an IM to let me know who you are if you add me!

A note about memes and inbox spam: When I say I welcome inbox spam, I freaking mean it. You can literally send me every prompt on a meme and I will not bat an eye. You can continue sending me memes even if you owe me things or I already owe you things - if the ask box is open and you want to send a thing, do it. As long as you've read "EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PSA" in the section above and are okay with me responding to things in random order or it taking me a while to get to everything, I generally encourage and even dare you to send whatever you feel like sending. If you're a new follower I honestly prefer to receive a few memes at a time. That way if the muse doesn't come right away for one you're not waiting for me as long!

My memes don’t expire. I scroll back through them regularly, so if it’s something I no longer feel like answering I’ll delete it. If it shows up under the meme tag, ifs fair game (though I would appreciate it if you could mention what meme it’s from when you send in an ask! I like to link back to them.)

SHIPPING STUFF - some of this needs to be updated following my shift to a single muse.

The mun of this blog is shipping trash. I'm not only here for ships, but I'm not going to lie, I'm like... 75% here for ships. It's my RP experience and I make no apologies.

Ships are chemistry based and must be discussed beforehand. I will never force a ship or assume you're interested in one even if A ) our muses are together canonically or B ) I have our muses listed as a fave ship. Please don't assume or force a ship on me, either.

As a general rule of thumb, my muses are portrayed as demisexual and demiromantic. They’re way more adventure-driven than pleasure-driven and in most cases I’m going to assume they’re fairly if not completely inexperienced until proven otherwise. (But I’m also self-indulgent trash and will 100% lean into “Law’s a surgeon who’s very good with his hands/anatomy in general okay.) I'm pretty openminded with my ships. I enjoy some toxic dynamics, I'm pretty lenient on age gaps as long as both muses are 18+... I'll add more to this as I think of them but yeah. If you're shy about pitching a ship, feel free to send in an anon ask to see how I'd feel about it.

NSFW memes are open exclusively to people I already ship with. Don't send me spicy stuff unless we've agreed to explore a ship beforehand. If we’ve gushed about a ship in any capacity and are mutually “into it”, that’s good enough. I’m fine with timeline hopping so if there’s a pretty good sense we ARE going to get there, you’re welcome to send shippy/suggestive stuff.

This blog is multi-ship. I don't and will never do exclusives (please don't ask.) I'm more than open to writing the same ship with multiple people so if you see me RPing a ship you'd like to explore already, don't let that stop you from reaching out.

SHIP BIASES (added November 28 2023): My top 3 ships for Law are LawNa (Law x Nami), LawBin (Law x Robin), and LawZo/ZoLaw (Law x Zoro). These are NOT the only ships I’m willing to explore so don’t be afraid to reach out if there’s others you want to know my thoughts on! They’re just my personal favorites. Please note, however, that I absolutely WILL NOT ship Law with either Donquixote brother or any members of his crew.

Other Misc. Notes:

Affiliates are people I talk with OOC a lot! I'm always open to more of these, so if we talk regularly and it's something you'd be interested in just be like: "👀 Affiliates?" and I will be like "Affiliates. -nod nod-" (Like, I think you'll know if we have this dynamic? I'm not subtle/shy.)

I LOVE AUs and playing in each other's verses. I love intertwined muses. If you like one of the threads or verses you see me writing with someone else and you think your muse would be interested in playing / adding to that dynamic, PLEASE DO IT I WOULD LOVE IT. I'm interested in exploring multi (2+) player verses/threads as well! I love canon-divergent "What If" scenarios and building entire AUs from the ground up as well as dabbling in each others' pre-existing verses.

NOTES ABOUT MY PORTRAYAL: I’ll add links to relevant posts later regarding these things later, but the most important things to note about my particular portrayal of Law are that 1. I 100% interpret Law as autistic. He is way more socially awkward than he is bitter/unpleasant (but he does lean into his RBF for the sake of his “big bad scary pirate” persona). He’s undeniably a Little Shit and does have some sadistic tendencies but no, he’s not a bloodthirsty killer. 2. My portrayal is HEAVILY influenced by the Law novel. It features in a lot of my headcanons and Law’s introspection because the time he spent with Wolf and the boys on Swallow Island was every bit as essential to who he is as a person as his own family and Cora-san were (for its own reasons. I’ll write up an analysis on what he took from each of those sources later.) I’ll do my best to tag direct/major events from the novel as #Law novel spoilers but I’m admittedly pretty bad about remembering to do so unless someone has specifically told me they NEED me to be careful with it. Then I’ll be hyper-aware of it, so feel free to yell at me in advance if you don’t want to be spoiled to anything from it. 3. Law is a good person, even if he doesn’t see himself as such. He’s not cruel, he feels strongly about “bad adults” making children’s lives miserable, he doesn’t like killing (he 100% will to protect those he cares about but no, he doesn’t want to).

Further portrayal notes: my grasp of Wano arc lore is pretty weak because I was at the end of a speed read and just wanted to get through it, so Wano based interactions are not my favorite until I get back there in my reread. However, I am technically up to date with all Law-related events up to and including chapters 1081 & 1082. I don’t have a lot of interest in the Egghead arc as a whole, but I’m totally open to exploring the events of those chapters and potential aftermaths in threads!

#♡ // ooc ;#♡ // psa ;

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ijinchosphantom · 2 years

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INDEPENDANT // PRIVATE // LOW ACTIVITY Kuwana Jin of the JUDGMENT franchise // LOST JUDGMENT

follows back from @kansaisdragon // heavy LJ spoilers

GUIDELINES

Feel free to address me as “Atlas” OOC. I’m 21+ ( 25 as of writing this ), and as such would prefer not to write with writers below the age of 18. I’m criminally unmotivated with a piss-poor memory to boot, so please bear with me! My discord is available upon request, as I’m far more liable to see messages there.

Writer and muse are 21+, and due to the nature of the Yakuza franchise, both violent and sexually explicit themes may be referenced. That being said, and for the sake of my own personal comfort, it is VERY unlikely smut will happen on this account, but on the off-chance it does it will all be put under a “read more” and tagged as nsfw accordingly.

Do not kill the muse unless discussed and agreed upon beforehand. While I’d prefer a heads up before your muse does anything too drastic, chances are I’ll be 100% on board with whatever you have in mind. On that note, Kuwana’s opinions are not my own, nor do I condone his actions by any means.

In regards to writing: I tend to delve more into literate replies with minimal formatting, but my writing is flexible and will vary depending on the interaction and who I’m interacting with. Whether it be shorthand, shitposts or full lit. threads, chances are I will make an effort to match your length; however, I do not expect anyone to feel obligated to do the same.

While ships aren’t a priority on this blog, this is something I’m very much open to provided there is ample chemistry between our muses ( however, in regards to Kuwana this is fairly unlikely ).

As far as triggers go, I’ll try my best to tag the basic ones ( in the format of “trigger cw” ), but if there’s anything you need me to add don’t hesitate to let me know! I’m not the best at gauging what needs a trigger and what doesn’t, so please bear with me if I happen to miss anything obvious. Triggers for this account are as follows: suicide, murder, crime, bullying. Please proceed with caution if any of these are sensitive topics for you, as, while I will do my best to tag them all and portray them as respectfully as possible, they will be present in this blog.

PERSONALITY

Taken from his wiki as a placeholder. SPOILER WARNING FOR LOST JUDGMENT.

Kuwana comes off as calm and professional, as befitting of a handyman in Ijincho. He prides himself on his ability to complete any job for the right price, and always maintains an air of professionalism when on the job. However, this air around him masks his true nature regarding the motivations behind his actions.

Formerly a schoolteacher, Kuwana was mostly disconnected from his class, but nonetheless still thought himself to be popular among the students. This illusion was shattered after a warning from his one student about the rampant bullying in his classroom, as well as a hidden recording set up by him revealed the truth behind his students' nature towards the victim of said bullying, Mitsuru Kusumoto. After Kusumoto's incident, Kuwana became embittered and resentful towards anyone he deemed a "bully" and believed it to be his duty to ensure that their actions would not go unpunished. He is so obsessed with this singular goal that he completely disregards any sacrifice that accompanies it, be it his own personal morals/health or the lives of those around him.

Despite his disconnectedness from a majority of people, he cares deeply for Reiko Kusumoto, mother of Mitsuru Kusumoto, partially because he feels responsible for what happened to her son. He is willing to do anything to ensure that her crime of murdering Shinya Kawai does not come to light, as he believes her killing him was completely justified. He seems to put her wishes before his own, as when she promises to turn herself in out of guilt for the death of Yoko Sawa, the student who had first brought the truth of the bullying in his classroom all those years prior, he does not stop her.

Even though he places a high charge on his work, he doesn't seem to care much for extravagance, as his home is incredibly small with little to no amenities.

BIOGRAPHY

Jin Kuwana, ( originally Yu Kitakata ), was formerly a teacher at Kurokawa Academy. When his student Yoko Sawa reported the bullying of Mitsuru Kusumoto to him, he took the warning lightly and dismissed the tormenting as typical teenage behavior, however, after she warned him again, he secretly recorded an after-school bullying session of Mitsuru to confirm its seriousness. He acted too late, as Mitsuru jumped off the roof around the time he saw the footage. When the news reached school, all participants stated they were unwillingly assisting Shinya Kawai and made him take full responsibility. Kitakata was disgraced and fired afterwards, and he returned to his mentor to start a life in the shadows, assuming the name "Jin Kuwana" in the process.

Kuwana was guilt-ridden by his inability to save Mitsuru and disgusted by the other students being able to escape consequences, so he waited until they became adults and built lives for themselves. Kuwana hatched a plan to punish bullies: He would ask the parents of bullied students if they want the bullies to die, and if they refused, he backed off. If the parents agreed to his request, he would blackmail his former students into abducting the target, then allow the parent(s) to kill them.

With the now-adults no longer having their bullying of Mitsuru into suicide excused as teenage behavior, and now having much more to lose, they were unable to refuse. Kawai was the first bully to die to Kuwana's conspiracy, though it was Reiko Kusumoto who ended his life. Kawai's body was later preserved in a freezer as stronger leverage, as he had recorded his former students abducting him, and the corpse had their fingerprints on it. Kuwana continued his killing spree and eventually caused the deaths of at least five more bullies in the process.

In mid-2021, after Akihiro Ehara's lawsuit against Seiryo High School for letting his son be driven to suicide was dismissed, Kuwana contacted Sawa to ask if Toshiro Ehara was bullied, secretly recording the call. She told him she was forced to remain silent due to a lack of evidence against the bully, Hiro Mikoshiba. This caused Kuwana to target Mikoshiba; he approached Ehara while he was on duty with Sawa's recording, and prompted him to take revenge for his son.

#pinned post #suicide cw #murder cw #bullying cw #please mind the warnings they are VERY prevalent with this character

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kariternal · 2 years

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-ˏˋ —̳͟͞͞⋆｡˚ ⅋ ᵃ 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 + 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 MUTUALS ONLY 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢 ( ᵐᵃʳᵛᵉˡ'ˢ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴱᵀᴱᴿᴺᴬᴸˢ ) 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 by ꒰ 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢. ꒱ ᴴᴱᴬⱽᴵᴸʸ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 ⅋ . low maintenance . ᴹ̳ᴱ̳ᴰ̳ᴵ̳ᵁ̳ᴹ̳ activity . 𓂃

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 : @druiternal

¹ hi ! i’m bambi , i’m 22 , white , in the est time zone , ⅋ queer ! this is my blog for 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢 of 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘴 ( ᵈⁱʳ ᶜʰˡᵒᵉ ᶻʰᵃᵒ ) i am fairly a private ⅋ heavily selective portrayal. i don’t have a lot of love for the m*rv*lrpc ⅋ i am very specific about catering my dash to my comfort ⅋ ease. this doesn’t mean i won’t interact with non friends but they do get priority here !

² activity is pretty sporadic , especially being neurodivergent ! most of my blogs are on permanent semi hiatus ⅋ i bounce across them as muse hits. i work long days when i do work ⅋ those tend to exhaust me so there’s periods of time where my ic content slows. i have several other blogs i can be found on including : pr1manoia . deadt4lks . choreom4nia .

³ i do tend to heavily format my writing including various fonts ⅋ sizing. if that’s not compatible for you that’s fine ! just let me know ⅋ i’m happy adjusting it.

⁴ this blog does not acknowledge comic canon i’m sorry that shits all over the place. my makkari is mostly film based ⅋ heavily headcanon built !

⁵ makkari is born deaf ⅋ communicates primarily using sign language ! ⅋ expressions. she can read lips ⅋ sense vibrations including tone ⅋ your muse is welcome to rely on that or simcom ( simultaneous communication : sign + spoken language at the same time ) just note that makkari will not simcom herself. she will not communicate verbally. if you learn sign though ⅋ make an effort not to simcom with her it’s so appreciated.

⁶ heavily affiliated with ali’s druig (: ♡ if i reference druig in my ��writing it is primarily in reference to them !

⁷ other notes : mains ⅋ exclusives driven , love my friends so bad ??? ship friendly ! i think for makkari i prefer plot driven ships. if ur a friend u can force ship ilysm but if we’re not super familiar w each other ⅋ ur interested just bump me a msg ! general dni standards apply , don’t be an ass , racism + homophobia aren’t tolerated , no problematic fcs , u know the drill.

links ⅋ things to come.

#-ˏˋ —̳͟͞͞⋆｡˚ ꒰ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 ⅋ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 . ²² . 𝐩𝐬𝐝 : 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 ⅋ ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ ᵉᵈⁱᵗᵉᵈ . ꒱

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automaticneon · 3 years

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Hunting Season

Helmut Zemo X Fem!Reader

Summary: Going into hiding isn’t easy, and you and Zemo have to find new ways to entertain yourselves. Your Baron wants to introduce you to something a little different today.

Warnings: Very not safe for tumblr lmao. BratTamer!Zemo comes out in full force, inappropriate use of a riding crop, impact play, Zemo in leather gloves (that deserves its own warning in my opinion), oral (fem receiving) but with ✨added spice✨

When your new partner Zemo had said that you were going to have to lay low for a while, there was evidently an error in communication.

You see in your world flying under the radar meant months travelling between safehouses and run-down apartments, living out of your rucksack and calculating how long you could make your rations last before you had to emerge to restock.

In Zemo’s world that meant something entirely different.

After his escape in Riga the two of you had rendezvoused and begun the long drive to Austria, hesitant to take the jet out of fear the Dora Milaje would be keeping tabs on it. After two days of driving and an overnight stop in Poland the two of you had finally arrived at the location Helmut had deemed sensible for your hiding place.

A sprawling country manor somewhere between Vienna and Graz.

“I inherited it from my mothers side,” he told you when you first entered the light airy entry hallway, as if it was a common occurrence that someone would inherit such a place.

It was times like these that you were reminded that you and Helmut were not cut from the same cloth, he was a literal Baron and you were only an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D.

Had been. You had been an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. You were now technically a fugitive of the law, wanted for aiding and abetting the escape of your criminal boyfriend.

It took a lot of time to adjust to your new life in the manor, but Zemo was ever so patient with you. He never berated you for getting lost in the long hallways, was always patient when you asked about the difference between a Baron and an Earl, and humoured you when you quizzed him about the events frequented by aristocracy.

Eventually you began to feel at home. You and Helmut fell into a happy routine of exploring the house and grounds and enjoying each others company.

Of course these activities were all interspersed with a healthy dose of fucking. Frantic, groping sex hiding behind marble statues in the sculpture gallery, giving fashion shows to Zemo in all the new clothes he bought you just so he could tear them off you again, kneeling between his thighs in the parlour whilst he enjoyed his evening whisky.

The two of you couldn’t get enough of each other.

“I should take you to see the stables tomorrow” he muses one night, trailing the tips of his fingers over your exposed back “I want you to meet the horses before I take you out one”

“You should know then that I can’t ride to save my life” you warn.

An amused smile spreads across Zemo’s tired face.

“I beg to differ” he quips roguishly, breaking out into a smug laugh when you slap his chest in admonishment,

“Don’t be crude, I’m being serious!”

“And so am I, you broke me tonight my love. You can be a cruel mistress when you want to be” he says, pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“I learnt from the best” you say, and return the kiss with a brief peck against his chest.

“And I’m sure you’ll learn a lot more”

The sun over the grounds the next morning was bright and crisp, dispelling the mist from the lake and leaving behind a pleasant climate for your walk.

“You look lovely,” Zemo says as you meet him in the entry hall. He’s fixing the lapels of his long brown overcoat in one of the ornate mirrors and his warm eyes find the reflection of yours as you approach from behind. He picks up his trusty pair of worn leather gloves and slides them on, flexing his fingers to soften the material.

Ever the gentleman he offers you the crook of his arm.

“Shall we?”

The two of you make pleasant conversation as Zemo leads you through the grounds of the estate. Today he’s full of promises about the future, it warms you to know he intends to make this last.

“I should take you into Vienna soon, I know a place where they perform Mozart by candlelight”

“Have you been to any races before? We could visit Monaco, or perhaps somewhere in Spain would be less conspicuous”

“I promise we won’t always have to hide like this”

The stable was an old building, as old as the house, but impeccably well maintained. The stalls, of which many were empty, were arranged around a courtyard and as you wondered around the perimeter Zemo pointed to the various amenities.

“Back when we still hosted the hunting season this place would have been filled with horses. My mothers side of the family took great pride in their collection” he said as you stopped to pet the nose of a great black horse.

“You hunt?”

“Not personally, my parents were fans of the tradition of it all” he says, his gloves creaking as he flexes his fingers “I joined the army very young. I suppose when you start killing out of necessity, killing for sport becomes somewhat repugnant.”

You knew very little about Zemo’s time in the army. From what you could gather it had been a particulalry unpleasant time in his life, one born from a sense of duty to his country and a need to establish his place in the world before he took up the mantle of Baron.

Helmut’s aversion to hunting didn’t seem to impact his care towards the horses, he told you each of their names and ages and you admired how healthy and shiny their coats looked.

As you walked he kept a hand on the back of your neck, a possessive little gesture that he had taken to recently. The warm leather of his gloves a relaxing presence as he lead you through the tack room, a clean and chalky white room with a high vaulted ceiling. Your footsteps echoed on the stone floors as you admired the expensive riding gear mounted on the wall, stopping at a collection of leather riding crops.

“Oh Baron,” you teased, plucking one from the wall “very kinky”

Helmut gave you a lazy smile as you reached out and tapped the flat end of the crop against his cheek, huffing out a little laugh before taking it from you.

“Careful there my love, you could do real damage with that.”

You laugh and move to perch on the sturdy wooden worktable in the centre of the room.

“As if I’d ever want to hurt your pretty face, Helmut”

“I’m flattered, but it’s hardly a matter of if you’d want to,” he says, fixated on tapping the crop in his open palm “you need good training to use these properly.”

You narrow your eyes. You’re fairly sure that he’s sizing you up right now, trying to figure out if you’re down for whatever it is he has planned.

You decide to bite the bait.

“Do you think you’re well trained, Baron?”

For a fraction of a second he doesn’t respond, keeping you trapped in his levelled gaze instead. His nostrils flare and he puffs his chest ever so slightly.

“Get up,” he says in a tone that verges on cold.

You obey, but the sparkle of a challenge still glints in the deep of your eyes. If Zemo notices he doesn’t make it known, simply clenching his jaw as you come to stand before him.

“Turn around and put your hands on the table,” he instructs, and you can feel his gaze on you as you comply.

“We’re going to try something new today. You can always say no if you want to,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades and pushing, bending you slightly over the table.

Experimenting wasn’t anything new with you and Zemo, over the last few months the two of you had tried just about everything that took your fancy in the bedroom. You were fairly sure you knew what he had planned, particularly from the way he was using the riding crop to tease the inside of your leg, but you still wanted him to say it out loud.

“What do you have planned?” you ask, and your voice gives out just a little when Helmut uses the crop to make the tiniest slap against your leg.

“Five hits. If you can take five hits I’ll give you something special in return” he says, lifting the hem of your floaty skirt with the crop until it rests on the small of your back and leaves you exposed to him.

You know he’d give you something in return no matter what happened. If you noped-out after one swat? No problem. You had complete faith in this man to make sure you stayed happy and satisfied and so you arch your back a little in anticipation.

Helmut smooths his gloved hand over the globe of your ass, lulling you into a soothed state before stepping back. You don’t look back at him; the silence and the tantalizing suspense only adding to the excitement growing between your legs.

You register the sound of the hit before you register the pain.

The soft whoosh and harsh crack echoes around the high ceilings and bounces off the white-washed walls. It’s not a strong hit, barely even a swat. Zemo had used more force with regular spanks before yet the harsh bite of the leather crop still startles you.

“Alright?” He asks, and finally you turn your head to face him.

A rogue strand of hair dangles over his forehead and his pupils have blown to swallow up his hazel eyes. Helmut looked as though he was holding onto his sanity by a thread, and that was a thread you wanted to break.

You nod, not trusting your voice to remain levelled and instead turn to face forward again to await the second hit.

The next swat was just the same as the first, but with the now tender condition of your skin it hurt slightly more. The third was ever so slightly harder, forcing a yelp out of you and making your nails dig into the wooden table.

Zemo puts down the crop for a moment, coming to stand behind you and hovering his hand over the welts you’re sure are forming on your ass. You peer over your shoulder at him, watching the way his breath comes in quick pants as he examines his handiwork.

His eyes flit up to briefly meet yours before using his teeth to pull off one of his leather gloves and he tentatively brings his fingers between your legs, careful not to touch the tender flesh of your rear. His fingertips gently run along the clothed seam of your pussy, feeling the way your arousal is soaking your underwear.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he quizzes as you tremble under his touch. His fingers find your clit through the fabric and begin to circle it, letting out a low chuckle the way you moan and slouch at the contact.

“God your wet,” he berates, and that momentarily sated spark reignites at his tone.

“I’d be a lot wetter if you actually put your back into it” you quip, and Helmut’s fingers still. You keep pushing.

“I assumed you were trained well with these. I guess I was wrong”

Your Baron doesn’t respond, and you can practically hear the last strands of his self restraint snapping.

Grabbing his discarded glove, Zemo presses himself against you fully, using his weight to pin you down against the table. The expensive material of his trousers rub against the sore skin of your ass, and you can feel his arousal pressed into you as he uses one hand to grasp your jaw.

“You’re going to regret that, мали зека” he warns against your ear, tightening his grip to force your mouth open and stuff it with his leather glove.

Zemo steps back, pulling his other glove off and pressing it into your palm.

“You drop that glove and this all stops. If you don’t, then I don’t want to hear anything else from that smart mouth” he says, picking up the crop and taking his place again.

You love it when he gets like this. When you’ve broken down that cool and collected exterior you know that both you and your pussy will be paying for it for days to come. Not that you have a single complaint about that, though.

The next hit catches you entirely off guard. It’s much harder, causing your skin to warm instantly and your body to jolt against the table. Helmut waits, probably to see if you drop the glove.

When you don’t he delivers the final hit, so harsh that the tears pooling in your eyes spill over, trailing down your cheeks and mixing with the drool that has begun to dribble from the corner of your gagged mouth.

You don’t realise that your face had pressed itself against the table-top until Helmut is pulling you back up. He pulls the glove from your mouth, using one had to smooth your hair away from your face in a soothing gesture.

“It’s over,” He says, pressing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss “you did so well.”

He shrugs off his coat, placing the material on the table and guiding your head back down, giving you a soft place to rest your head.

“Do you want your reward?” he asks, stepping back behind you again.

“Uh-huh” you nod against the soft coat, all of the fight had been drained from your body, evidently the ability to speak had gone with it too.

You feel as Helmut slowly pulls your underwear over the curve of your ass and down your legs, shushing you softly when you whine over the soreness of your skin. He nudges your feet apart, and you feel him kneeling down behind you.

His hands find purchase around your waist, and he presses a kiss to the skin of your ass, being careful to find a place that doesn’t have any welts. His breath fans across your skin as he moves to press a kiss directly on your pussy, pulling away to listen to your breathy sigh. After the pain, soft and pure pleasure felt so good.

Helmut buries himself into the warm wetness, feasting on your pussy whilst you moan into his coat. His signature smell clings to the fabric and fills your nose, fisting your hands into the silky lining you pull the coat closer to you.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he manages to make you cum like this. All he has to do is bring one of his fingers to circle your fluttering, soaked hole and he has you falling apart on his tongue.

He holds you up as you practically sob into his coat, pressing fleeting kisses against your swollen pussy until your aftershocks stop. Helmut raises to his feet, gently pulling up your underwear and fixing your skirt, trailing kisses up your back until he reaches your head.

“How was that?” he asks, his voice quiet and tender.

“Good,” you push yourself up from the table shakily, letting Helmut keep his hands on your arms to keep you upright “you’re waiting on me hand and foot for the rest of the week though”

Helmut laughs, picking up his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Of course,” he says, pulling you in for a tender kiss “your wish is my command”

You kiss him back, smiling into the embrace as a few ideas for revenge spring to mind.

#zemo marry me challenge #my writing #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #tfatws #marvel #nsft

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eternallydefile · 2 years

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rules // mini bio (pinned.)

independent fandomless demon oc written by sarah - 18+ only.

please be sure to read all of my rules.

short muse bio (full bio on blog):

Defanatus the defiler. The unholy king of rot and corruption. Hell has a fixated hierarchy. A set of positions based on power; the more powerful one is, the higher their position. However, positions are fixed. Once a rank is given, it can never be changed. Power can be gained by the consumption of fellow demonic entities, but gaining status and rank was not allowed. Even then, gaining such power was seen as encroaching on Satan's rule over hell and is thus frowned upon; occasionally resulting in the demise of the demon. In Defanatus' case, that wasn't good enough. His entire role was to cause his prisoners extreme and horrific pain in the way of forcing their souls to rot and decay, ultimately consuming them afterwards. This was boring. He received no joy in torture; he hadn't in many, many years. The consumption of mortal souls gave him nothing, not even the sense of being full. He needed MORE.

Satan had more. Satan had everything-- And Defanatus wanted that. Wanted EVERYTHING. Not for the sake of having more power, but for the sake of having choices and having something else to do. He wanted to rule Hell. Over time, Defanatus began to feel emboldened, taking the lives of and feasting upon the essences of his fellow demons. Small, unnamed creatures that certainly no one would miss. But it wasn't enough and eventually, he began to draw attention to himself. This attention caused him to flee from hell, fighting for his life as he did so.

Once he found himself on the mortal realm, he found that he was in dire need of a host in order to recover from his escape. Any host would do, but the first person he encountered was a priest, a man in his mid thirties on his way to a nearby village. Overtaking him was quite easy, even for a man of God there wasn't much resistance. Defanatus was certainly weaker than the priest, as he had to fight tooth and nail to get out of Hell and cut down any of his kin that got in his way, but the element of surprise gave him the upper hand. However, this left him and his vessel fairly ragged and beaten appearing thus he needed quite a bit of rest before he ultimately found himself masquerading as a man of god.

Now Defanatus goes by FATHER CARRION and lives his life as a priest, continuing to consume his kin and gain power in order to overthrow his former king.

RULES:

Please be aware that this blog has heavy religious themes. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not follow me.

other blog triggers include body horror, general horror, blood, religion, blasphemy, and manipulation. if more become present on this blog, I will add them to this list.

I will not write with anyone under the age of 18. Nor will I follow you.

No God modding. I won't have Carrion cause your muse harm without it being discussed ooc prior, and I would appreciate the same sentiment.

Your muse will not know his demon name unless we have discussed them learning it. This is due to the fact that a demon’s name holds power and can be used to command them, which isn’t really fair if we haven’t discussed things prior.

This is going to be a fairly low activity, private blog. I have a job and suffer from a chronic illness that often times causes me to lack energy to write, so replies may be slow and selective.

There will be no smut on this blog.

Shipping will likely not happen just because Carrion can't be bothered to care about anyone romantically, however I won't take it off the table completely. The relationship would need to be with someone that Carrion feels fairly equal with.

Please please please tag any images of irl bruises or broken bones.

ABOUT THE MUN:

Hi! My name is Sarah, I'm 28 years old my pronouns are she/her! I'd like to think that I'm a pretty easy going and nice person, so please don't be afraid to approach me ooc! My discord is available to all mutuals who ask for it :)

Please like this post so I know you have read my rules! Or don’t! Whatever you’re most comfortable with :)

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regnatior · 2 years

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⸻RULES, CREDITS ﹠. FURTHER INFO.

GUIDELINES : ･ intro: mun goes by vik, she/they pronouns. 23 years of age, vfx artist. central european timezone. semi-selective. fairly new to tumblr. feel free to ask for my discord whenever you'd like to chat or plot!

･ general: will write with mutuals only. mun ≠ muse. portrayal is mainly set during the clone wars era. headcanon-driven and heavily inspired by james luceno's labyrinth of evil, revenge of the sith lord and matthew stover's dark lord: the rise of darth vader. of course, movies, series and comics also come into account.

･ activity and interactions: as my schedule keeps changing, this blog is mid to low activity: please do not rush for replies and/or interactions. do not start any roleplays without my consent. plotted interactions are preferred. i also like to take my time responding, so activity might heavily fluctuate!

･ triggers and dni: i do not have triggers myself, however you might find potentially triggering themes on this blog such as: asphyxiation, death, violence, blood, mental health issues, torture, war, genocide, among others. triggers will always be tagged in introduction. standard rules apply here: all hateful messages/behaviors will be responded with a block. i will not participate in callouts, drama and hate; you will never see me reblog or heart any of these. i also have zero interest in following genderbent, whitewashed, interchanging poc fcs characters. this isn't an exhaustive list but in summary: please don't be gross.

･ shipping: pre-established relationships are accepted but chemistry is required in order to keep them going on my part. if the themes aborded or interactions become too incomfortable for me (realistic relationships always have their flaws), interaction will be dropped and, depending on the importance, the mutual status broken and/or blocked. for non-canon relationships, heavy chemistry is required and we must have chatted ooc a bit before plotting a possible ship. please keep in mind that shipping is not my main priority, do not force ships on me. i am okay with nsfw and such type of content will be tagged. do NOT even try to ship ahsoka with my anakin. no incestuous shipping.

CREDITS : ･ psd coloring ﹠. pinned graphics inspo by niixzee on deviantart. ･ other graphics, templates ﹠. colorings by me.

TAGS LIST : * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗢𝗢𝗖 ⸻ ' you mean do i know how to land what's left of this thing? ' * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⸻ `` and someday i'm going to fly away from this place. `` * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗢 ⸻ `` so you might say that we are encouraged to love. `` * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗦 ⸻ `` i’ve got a bad feeling about this. `` * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 : 𝘼𝙉𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙀𝘿 ⸻ `` something’s happening. i’m not the jedi i should be …`` * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 : 𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙑𝙀𝘿 ⸻ `` … i want more. and I know i shouldn’t. `` * ･ ༓ ☾ : 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗔 ⸻ ``always put purpose ahead of your feelings. ``

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fireballofinsanity · 2 years

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Okay! With things going rather well and being on track for an end of the weekend possible launch, I’m gonna drop a progress update:

-Some muses will not be returning for the new blog. Of these, Casey will be (eventually) moving to another blog as a very low-key muse for another project in the near future, and Cyan will be returning eventually, but at the moment is a WIP that will not be ready when the new blog goes up.

-I will have several new muses available in place of them, but only two of the four newbies will be available for interactions on launch - The other two still require a great deal of work on their abouts, and like Cyan, will be saved as a WIP. All three will be added to the muse list when their abouts and icons are completed. Info about them will already be in the rules where needed, as they were already planned on being added from day 1.

-Everything has had a rehaul, from rules to theme to tags and even muses. All the muses will have a proper about page and have had major rewrites, reflecting how much they’ve grown and the like. There’s even new FCs in place, finally!

-I will be keeping the new blog under Slow Activity and selective. I simply don’t have the energy or the mental health for multiple ‘main’ main blogs and while I’ll be on the new blog fairly regularly, I may be slow to reply, which is true across all my blogs. To this extent, I’ll limit the number of the threads I have at any given time so I don’t overwhelm myself, which means a lot less starter calls and more memes instead! <3

-I’ve been trying to reach out to everyone I can about keeping up relationships, ships, and the like and if they’d be something y’all wan to continue - If anything’s changed or I haven’t reached out to you yet, hit me up!

-Speaking of that, shipping rules have changed - I’ll be highly unlikely to take on new ships with the new blog, and in the case of Sera, straight up won’t be. There’s been a lot I’ve realized in the last two years, and I’d love to build more friendships for my muses than I would romances - So the ships that get carried over will be the only ships unless there’s a LOT of time and work put into a new one.

Here’s to hopefully the next update being with a ‘we’re open’ and url! <3

~Pom

#OOC #Blog Update #I fell asleep writing this and ended up with a sinus headache from it- XD #Apologies it it sounds a bit off - That would be why!#But I'm nearing completion with only a few more things to get done #Shouldn't be too much longer now #BUT! Honestly if I haven't reached out about carrying over verses and relationships of any kind hit me up!#Or if something's changed - Hit me up then too! <3 #I do NOT want to assume it's a yes and make things uncomfortable? <3

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Lydia Deetz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Lydia after she moved into town. You went to the same school as her and were in a few of her classes, though you doubted that really mattered; you’d find out about her pretty quickly even if she wasn’t.

- Lydia was an ...interesting character. You liked to think of your school as fairly accepting, people weren’t outwardly mean to her; some were even welcoming, but you somewhat understood many peoples hesitance towards befriending her. Above all, she was fairly standoffish though at the time, no one knew why.

- Still, you liked her style. She was strange and unusual, something you admired. So you took the chance and tried to befriend her, approaching her after school and trying to start a conversation as she unlocked her bike. She was polite but quick to end your talk, making up an; obvious, excuse before riding off.

- But you wouldn’t be deterred, continuing your efforts as the days rolled by and eventually getting her to warm up to you. You even managed to invite her out with you, giving her a tour around the town and slowly getting to know her better.

- Over time, you grow to like her more and more until you realize that you don’t just want to be her friend. It’s then that you have a real predicament on your hands, and a decision to make: try to ignore your feelings and hope they go away or confront them and hope for the best.

- It’s a few months into your friendship that you decide to confess your true feelings for her. Unbeknownst to you, she was planning on doing the same.

- You were sitting in the towns graveyard with her, a place you’d been to several times mainly because you knew she loved it. It seemed like the perfect place to tell her how you felt so you took a deep breath and stumbled through your confession. And... she burst out laughing.

- Yeah, so not a good sign. You were completely embarrassed and was wondering whether you could play it off like you were joking. Deciding that you couldn’t, you went to stand up and leave before she lunged forward, grabbing your hand quickly and exclaiming “no, no” as she tried to stop her laughter.

“I’m sorry, really. It’s just that, all day I’ve been wondering how I was gonna tell you that I liked you and, well, here we are.” She smiled, and ushered you to sit back down.

- The two of you had your first date in one of the towns many fields. You brought a basket full of stuff and sat out there for hours, having a picnic and overall just hanging out. She’s got about a dozen photos of the day.

- You had your first kiss at least a week after you first got together. Neither of you were brave enough to just go for it so it took you a while to actually do it.

- When you did, it was after the two of you snuck out together and were taking a late night walk through the town. You were sat on an old wooden fence, the moonlight shining above you as you talked. That was when you turned to look at each other and just began to lean in, inching closer and closer until your lips met.

- And thus began your strange and beautiful relationship.

- The two of you are most likely bambi lesbians; your relationship is fairly innocent and things never really get too hot or heavy.

- It’s the 80s and you sort of live in a small town so you try to keep your relationship on the down low. Whenever you’re out in public, you try to just act like friends, never doin anything exclusively romantic in nature.

- Holding hands, locking arms, hugging, sitting very close to each other; you can get away with a lot since you’re young girls but you try not to push your luck.

- Most of your dates take place where there isnt a lot of; if any, people. She prefers keeping to herself so you wind up just hanging out at her place or places no one really goes, like the graveyard or forgotten roads.

- Pecks on the lips and cheeks.

- Sweet and chaste kisses.

- Laying your head in her lap while you sit and talk. Occasionally, she’ll run her fingers through or just play with your hair, looking down at you with a soft smile.

- She’s got soooo many photos of you. She likes to jokingly call you her muse, taking random snapshots while you’re doing something or asking you to pose for her.

- Horror movie marathons. The two of you have stayed up late countless times, eyes wide and glued to her tv screen as you shovel popcorn into your mouths.

- Riding your bikes together after school. Sometimes you’ll just ride around town, stopping at some random place you’ve never been to and going exploring together.

- Walks through and picnics in the graveyard. It’s one of her favorite places to visit except when its close to the anniversary of her mothers death.

- Letting her talk to you about her mother and rant about Delia and her dad.

- Meeting the Maitland's and her eccentric parents. They all love you and have a feeling that you aren’t “just friends”, not that it really matters to them anyways. Delia is particularly happy with the idea of you two being together, Lesbianism is so avant-garde.

- Morbid conversations. Want to have an hour long conversation about death? Well, you’ve come to the right girl!

- You’ll never have to worry about getting rid of spiders again for the rest of your life. She’ll just scoop them up in her hand and gently place them outside while you trail hesitantly behind her.

- Dancing together.

- Surprisingly enough, she’s quite fond of being bridal carried or getting piggyback rides.

- Getting to see all of her rare smiles and giggles, most of the time they’re reserved pretty much exclusively for you.

- She doesn’t really use nicknames/pet names all that much but occasionally she’ll call you the name of a character from a movie or show when you say or do something that reminds her of them.

- Collecting and pressing flowers with her. You help her swap out and rearrange the ones on her wall every few months.

- She has a bit of a dramatic streak so occasionally you’ll just have to snap her out of it, either by cheering her up or helping to rationalize a situation.

- She loves rainy days. She likes to invite you over, sit up in her room and just hang out with you while the skies are a dreary gray. She finds the atmosphere very beautiful.

- Her room is perfect for afternoon naps. The two of you head over to her house after school, lock her bedroom door and pull the curtains down before snuggling under her covers and catching a few zzz’s.

- She’ll never admit it out loud but she actually really likes cuddling. You tend to cuddle hugging each other, taking turns having your heads resting against each other’s chests.

- She loves eating dinner or lunch at your house. Delia prepares the weirdest foods for everyone so being able to eat something like a normal turkey sandwich or bowl of soup is a nice change.

- Going to antique and thrift shops. If it looks haunted, she’ll want to buy it.

- Holidays!! She gets all festive around them; especially Halloween, always wanting to decorate and do the usual seasonal activities.

- Letting her style your hair. She finds it really fun and you certainly don’t mind looking a bit unusual.

- Gothic tea parties. Join her on her wooden floor, surrounded by black teddy bears and creepy dolls, eating little sandwiches and drinking tea.

- She likes to write you little poetic letters. Some are purely romantic while others are dreadfully depressing but you love them all the same.

- It’s pretty easy to find her presents; if it’s ugly then she’ll love it.

- Doing little crafts together. She likes artistic stuff, as long as it isn’t weirdly abstract like delias art.

- She tends to stick to compliments about the work that you do or the things you choose to wear. She prefers making you feel good about the stuff that you make not the things you were born with.

- Many people don’t seem to realize it but she’s got a pretty good sense of humor. That, paired with the shenanigans you get yourselves into, ensures that the two of you have a good time together!

- Getting dragged into supernatural and paranormal adventures. If it was her choice, she would probably leave you out of it, but alas, it isn’t.

- Beetlejuice is certainly an interesting individual to meet. Lydia is not fond of him calling you babe though, even if he calls everyone babe.

- She’s never really gets all that jealous. She reasons that you’re with her and if you’re with her, then you most likely like weird people, which you don’t find all that often where you live.

- She’s certainly been through some stuff, especially after moving to town so she’s fairly protective of you. Now that she knows the dead can linger on, she tries to look after you even more.

- She’s somewhat sensitive so she tends to take things to heart even when they’re misunderstandings.

- You dont fight a whole lot but when you do, your arguments wind up turning into catty yelling fights. One of you will usually storm out, throwing a “fine” or something of the sort out before you go.

- The two of you will give each other the silent treatment for a while but you’ll most likely be miserable the entire time. She’ll cave a little sooner than you will, finding you at school somewhere or being let in by your mom and just showing up at your bedroom door shyly. You both usually have a hard time staying mad at each other, once either of you apologize.

- She gives you a “love you” everytime you say goodbye. It’s pretty much routine by now.

- She doesn’t realize it for a while but ever since she met you, she hasn’t thought about dying. In fact, now that she has you, she can’t even bear to imagine it. She wouldn’t want to leave you behind, she loves you.

- Her one goal in life is to be the woman that historians say “lived with her lifelong best friend, never marrying or having children but writing letters to each other about loving each other fiercely”.

#Lydia deetz imagine #Lydia deetz headcanons #Lydia deetz headcanon #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #Beetlejuice imagine #Beetlejuice headcanons #Beetlejuice headcanon

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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Initially, Obi-Wan thought that sleep would assuredly allude him.

Perhaps he underestimated the trust and affect his troops had on him and how exhausted he really was because he slept fairly soundly through the night.

He was still surrounded by troopers by the time he woke up, although he was fairly certain that there significantly less numbers of them. Although it was a bit of a challenge with position, Obi-Wan tried to meditate a little before the next disaster would inevitably occur. It was only a tad successful as he kept going back to thinking about Anakin. And right now he just…couldn’t.

Afterwards, he got dressed, complete with his old armor pieces and left the barracks to get to work.

“Greetings, Master Kenobi,” Cin Drallig nodded at him as Obi-Wan walked onto the bridge. There wasn’t many present; it was mostly a skeleton crew, but they paid him little heed. Next to the battle master stood a clone trooper from the meeting before, one of Obi-Wan’s 212th boys, Menace.

“General,” Menace welcomed.

“Master Drallig, Menace,” Obi-Wan nodded at the both of them.

“The boys and I have encrypted and encoded a way for you to get a message to the other Jedi generals that are scattered across the galaxy,” Menace explained as he pulled up a map of the galaxy, planets already highlighted. Obi-Wan presumed that was where jedi and their troops had been positioned. “As long as we know where they are stationed, we can get it to them and encode it so only a Jedi would be able to access it. We made this option just in case there are any activated chipped troopers around or natborns who are loyal to the Empire.”

“That was rather fortuitous of you,” Cin glanced at the trooper, curiously but he projected gratitude, something a little odd from the battlemaster but it was no less appreciated.

“Just precautions sir.”

“Alright, we have to figure out exactly what information we need to send to the others,” Obi-Wan said as he followed Cin and Menace down the halls which ended up being to an office. Was it his? At this point, he wasn’t really paying attention and most of the office rooms looked virtually all the same. This one had been recently packed with communications equipment and a holotable for good measure.

“The basics will be key,” Cin replied with a hum as he closed the door behind them and tied back his longer hair. “We will have to divide it up between what to do when running from activated soldiers or what to do when communications have been shut down so they can’t receive the orders to active the chips.”

“Constrain natborn officers, no communications aside from jedi, which will come up in about three days,” Obi-Wan listed.

“That is a fair chunk of time,” Menace admitted as started to open up and turn on the machinery around the room, as well as the data blockers for outside communications, just incase someone would try to butt in on the networks. “Can they avoid the Empire for that long? We don’t know which forces that the emperor has now or how quickly they will go after those they cannot get a hold of.”

“If they come across conflict, leave immediately,” Cin suggested as made his spot off to the side. “Getting too close to activated chips will active any clones they are around. But we did warn many jedi. The Empire Forces have to be fairly diminished if they understood those warnings. I can’t imagine the new government is completely on it’s feet yet.”

That was true. Even though the Republic had been slowly shifting into something less democratic over the course of the war, it was still a fairly big change, and a lot of things would have to be restructured. There was also the issue, for the Empire, of those who would fight back against its creation or not agree with it. That may buy them some time, he mused.

“But we do need to plan quick, because I’m sure it won’t be long before they are organized and mobilized enough to chase us,” Obi-Wan added, sitting down in one of the chairs next to Menace. In front of him was a little desk area. “If they haven’t realized that Kamino specifically isn’t responding because of this, they will figure it out soon.”

“How about we make a list?” Menace suggested, his gaze flickering between the two masters.

Obi-Wan nodded and his hand shuffled around the desk to find a data pad. Putting it in front of him, he grabbed a utensil and created a list.

“Alright, so first and foremost, the clones are chipped, proximity to activated chips activates others. Activation can also be verbal but only from the Sith. Block all communications available to clones,” Cin started quickly as Obi-Wan immediately wrote down the thoughts on the datapad.

“We can send Healer Che’s information on where the chips are as well, if anyone has the equipment or skills to start taking them out,” Obi-Wan added, the pencil flipping around his fingers to momentarily point at the battlemaster. They both nodded in response.

“Two; the Republic is gone, an Empire has rose. We are being hunted and killed as we are claimed to be traitors. Confine any officers loyal to the Empire until further notice,” Cin continued

“If you have inactivated clones, keep them away from conflict with others, due to the proximity thing,” Menace included, flicking on a few more nozzles and switches.

“If you are around activated clones, get away as quickly as possible, stay low or get away from them if you can,” Cin added, eyeing Menace, carefully. The clone’s presence filled up with a moment of quiet grief and disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault sir,” Menace swallowed harshly but shook his head. “We can’t save anyone yet without a real plan.”

“Contact,” Cin started up again, a little hesitant to keep going as he looked between the two. “Contact will be reestablished within a couple of days, once we get to Kamino. If you have a long range holotable, use it, but keep your comm on you. There will be a coded message to indicate if communications come from us.”

They paused.

“I think…I think those are some good basics, hopefully they can survive until then,” Obi-Wan sighed, jotting down the last of the notes.

“Battle master Drallig and I can get these coded and sent out fairly quickly,” Menace said, gently taking the datapad from Obi-Wan’s hands.

“It’s a start,” he echoed.

***

“I believe it is about time we talk,” Padme said, her face flat with one hand rested on her stomach. Her greeting was desperate and although not exactly unkind, it wasn’t very patient either. Obi-Wan glanced around and let out a silent sigh. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation. One that he didn’t particularly want to have.

He had been working with the other masters and clones to figure out where to go and what to do next for some time. He knew this conversation was coming. He was just dreading it.

Obi-Wan just swallowed and nodded in defeat as he turned to face the pregnant woman. “Alright. But I think it would be best if we would keep this conversation rather private. The 501st survivors and much of the 212thhave been following me like ghosts and they certainly don’t need to hear this.”

Padme’s expression was something of confusion, but she consented, and they found themselves in Obi-Wan’s former office. It was still technically his office, he supposed, but others had been using it since the evacuation. One could tell by all the paperwork and things that cluttered it more than it already was, the things that he knew were not his or Cody’s. He locked the door behind them and let Padme sit on the cot in the corner. He dragged a chair over to her to sit himself, although he could not find a position that was comfortable.

“I suppose we can start with what happened with Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, a bit quietly. He did not want to talk about this right now, not at all. He wasn’t ready for this; he was hardly wrapping his own head around what had happened. His heart clenched harshly in his chest, and he was sure his throat would close up. Taking a shaking deep breath, he tried to continue to speak. “What, exactly, do you already know?”

“Ahsoka called me, telling me there was an attack on the Jedi Temple,” Padme confessed, shaking her head in disbelief. “She told me that Anakin had turned to the Dark Side, that he was killing younglings and leading brainwashed clones to kill everyone.”

Her tone was incredulous and unconvinced, not that Obi-Wan could exactly blame her. He was not even sure if he believed it, and he was there. It seemed impossible. He knew Anakin struggled with some of the jedi tenants, especially that of attachment, which Obi-Wan had tried to talk to him about, to reach out. But Anakin had been closing off more and more as of late. That didn’t mean he could have ever have seen this coming.

Perhaps he should have. Was he so blind?

“That…that would be accurate,” Obi-Wan choked out but did his best to keep his voice constant and steady with as much as patience as he could lacing it.

Padme stood up suddenly but then wavered and leaned against the wall for support. He leaned forward, ready to catch her if she should fall. She steadied herself and straightened her back to stare down at him. “That is absolutely ridiculous,” she announced with such confidence even he almost believed it. “And you know it, Obi-Wan! He is your friend, and he would never do such a thing; the Jedi…”

“If you start blaming my people while we are fleeing for our lives, please refrain,” his own voice continued to be soft but there was a steel bone underlaying it, that made no room for challenge.

“Anakin would never do such a thing,” Padme repeated firmly and shook her head. He closed himself off to her in the Force, he didn’t want to know what she was feeling. He wasn’t sure if he could handle her feelings along with his own. “He has been worried and stressed but that is only because of…”

“Because of what?”

“He’s been having nightmares…” she started slowly, eyeing Obi-Wan as if that would give her some insight, some answers on what was happening. “About me, dying in childbirth.”

“Nightmares,” Obi-Wan repeated numbly. “That is what he was so worked up about? He didn’t come to me or anyone else about them. And he knows how dangerous pregnancies are in this sort of situation. He should have known to talk to the healers about it.”

He should have talked to the healers. At least doctors, someone. Generally speaking, people didn’t just die in childbirth, not on Coruscant, certainly not a prominent senator. No one would ever deny her prenatal care, no matter who the father was.

Even if the father was a jedi.

“He was probably afraid,” Padme glanced away.

It was as if Anakin didn’t know anything of the Jedi at all. The Jedi would have never turned Padme away for pregnancy care or information, Force around, the Jedi wouldn’t turn anyone away who came to their steps in need of help with pregnancy. Force sensitive or not.

“We are getting off track,” Obi-Wan shook his head with a small sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. He just wanted… honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. He supposed he wanted this to all be his own nightmare, one he could just wake up from. One where none of this was real. “Padme, I don’t know how to convince you of what Anakin has done,” he continued. “He led an attack to kill everyone in the Temple, he led an army of brainwashed clones. He murdered Temple Guards and younglings just trying to escape the battle. He fought mewith the intent to kill, rambling about the failings of the jedi,” Obi-Wan stressed, leaning forward. “Master Drallig said he called himself Darth Vader which let me tell you, is a Sith name. All I could feel in him was desperation and fury.”

“You’re wrong,” Padme insisted, her eyes blazing into something so passionate, it nearly hurt to look at. Her loyalty, although her perhaps commendable to an extent, was difficult to work with. Difficult when she wouldn’t believe the truth. He knew it was hard to swallow. He was still in that process. “He is good, there is good in him, of course there is. Something else must be at play.”

“Something else?” Obi-Wan asked, his own voice echoing confusion. He couldn’t imagine much else being at play, his former padawan, his brother, had intended on murdering everyone in the Temple, all those that thought he was their family. All those that thought he cared about them. He had nearly succeeded. If Cody’s chip hadn’t been activated when and where it was… Obi-Wan nearly shuddered at the prospect. He sighed and shook his head again. “I love Anakin. And even after all that he has done I still love him; I will always love him. But I am not blind to what he has become now. I was blind before, not seeing it; only seeing what I wanted to, the good person I thought he could be, the person I thought he was.”

“He is that good person,” she persisted with a sound not open for debate.

Obi-Wan was tired, even the several hours of last night’s sleep would not erase all of the time he had been awake, active, fighting for his life and the lives of those around him.

“Tell that to the younglings that he cut down in front of his former padawan,” Obi-Wan’s hand waved out in emphasis. He hated bringing Ahsoka into this but Padme cared about the young Togruta, probably nearly as much as Anakin used to as well. “Or the 501st troopers who were forced to lead an attack on the Temple, on the Jedi, against their own free will.”

The young woman just stared at him, and he knew that she didn’t believe him. He didn’t think she would ever actually believe him without seeing it for herself.

The fact that Anakin, of all people, would lead a forced brainwashed army to fight people they never would have in their right minds seemed ludicrous.

“Okay, we are at an impasse,” Obi-Wan slumped back a little in his chair. He took a commlink out of his pocket and let his fingers sweep over it, absentmindedly. “Perhaps a break from this line of conversation may be beneficial,” he said slowly, giving Padme the time to sit down on the cot once again. “I think…we need to also talk about your pregnancy,” Obi-Wan added slowly. Padme placed a hand on her belly, protectively.

“You mentioned…you mentioned I could die from this,” Padme replied slowly, her eyes meeting his in a massive flurry of concern and fear. The conversation was not over about Anakin but for now, for now what he had said would have to do. He didn’t know how much longer he could try to help her in that scenario. “So, Anakin was right, I’m going to die in childbirth.”

“It’s not that simple. There is a lot that is included,” Obi-Wan shook his head. How to explain something that he only knew the basics of? Perhaps a professional was best to be in order “Look. Let me call my friend Bant. She is a healer, and she will be able to answer most, if not all, of your questions.”

Without waiting for an answer, he sent his friend a message who near immediately contacted him back, relieved that he had found their wayward patient. Apparently, Padme was not supposed to be out of the medbay. Obi-Wan imagined they would want to monitor her, considering her pregnancy and situation. His comm beeped again.

“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know who the other side of the we was but at this point, he would take all the help he could get.

Those few minutes were the most awkward ones Obi-Wan could remember.

The Mon Calamari walked in with another healer trailed in behind her and Obi-Wan could not even help the sigh of relief. At last. “Hello Obi-Wan, senator,” Bant greeted, giving them both a nod, her large dark eyes brimming with sympathy and kindness. Obi-Wan would forever be baffled and astounded at the amount of love and compassion his friend could hold. “Senator, my name is Bant. I am a healer. This is Healer Jayden; she specializes in pregnancies.”

“You have special doctors for pregnancies in the jedi?” Padme asked, a little taken back.

“Of course,” the doctor nodded as Obi-Wan got up to give them both seats. He ended up standing off a little to the side, often finding himself leaning against the wall for support. “Believe it or not, the jedi are not celibate,” she pointed out, even though Padme’s glance looked a bit skeptic. “And although it isn’t extremely common, jedi can and do get pregnant.”

“They do?” Padme echoed.

“Of course. Force Sensitivity isn’t always passed down, but it is more likely if one or more of the parents have it,” Jayden explained, her voice smooth and calm. It could not be said that Jedi didn’t know when they were supposed to be healers. He could only imagine how determined they must be in such an art. “Pregnancies involving force sensitivity in general can be quite difficult, but we should really talk about your case specifically.”

“Is it…different?”

“I have been briefed on a few things,” Healer Jayden said, giving Bant a quick glance as if for confirmation. Obi-Wan wondered how much she had been told about the situation, about the father. “The father of your children is former Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, is it not?”

“Current Jedi Knight,” Padme corrected, her voice laced with bitter undertones and eyes narrowed. Something she had picked up from Anakin, he supposed. “Unless the Jedi have kicked him out for loving someone.”

“The Jedi do not typically, kick people out,” Bant continued, her voice just as relaxed and mellow. She was taking this very well. Obi-Wan nearly felt like shaking Anakin or someonewho should know better for all the things misinterpreted, deliberately or otherwise. “Not for loving anyone or getting people pregnant.”

“Yes,” Padme confirmed, her voice subdued. “He is the father.”

“Alright. So, the father has an incredibly high number of midiclorians in his body, which is how one can determine how force sensitive an individual is. He is a very high number, more than anyone else and is very, very strong in the Force,” Jayden explained, patiently. She spoke in chunks, probably to better allow Padme to follow what she was saying.

“What does that mean for the baby? That it will be force-sensitive?”

The healer nodded but her expression was a bit grave. “In your case, certainly. Because if they hadn’t, you would probably be dead already.”

And… Obi-Wan hadn’t expected her to be so blunt. Padme stared wide-eyed.

“Skywalker is so strong in the Force that it is killing you, not to mention the darkness that is practically permeating you,” the healer continued and although Obi-Wan could feel a tad of concern with it, she did not show it outright, rather keeping a cool presence of security. “The only reason that you are still alive and as strong as you are, currently, is because the two babies inside of you are also extremely force-sensitive and are keeping you alive. It is…very complex and seems a bit paradoxical, and difficult to explain when it comes to the specifics, as well as the ins and outs of what is happening in your body.”

“So, I will not survive this birth,” Padme realized.

“The odds are not fantastic,” Jayden replied truthfully with a small frown. “But the only way you can survive is with a Jedi Healer’s help. If you stayed on the planet, you would not have survived the birth and I doubt anyone would have understood why. But we can and we will help you, Padme,” she said, taking the woman’s hand gently, curling her partially translucent fingers around the younger senator’s. “You can trust us that we will do everything in our power to make sure that you survive to see your children grow up.”

“What are the odds?” Padme whispered, staring at her hands.

“It is difficult to say,” Jayden admitted, candidly. “We’ve never had a child from someone as powerful as Skywalker before. Best case scenario you will be out of commission, maybe even comatose, for some time while your body regenerates its strength.”

If it can, went unspoken.

With her free hand, Padme brought it up to cover her mouth, letting out a shaky breath, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

“I think you could use some rest, senator,” Bant advised, speaking up for the first time. Although Healer Jayden did most of the talking, Obi-Wan was still grateful for his friend’s presence. “I think we have a small room near the medical bay that we can use for you,” she added and glanced at Obi-Wan. “Would you mind getting her there?”

He didn’t think, just nodded. With a second thought, he didn’t really want to, he didn’t want to talk with her right now. He was just so tired and there was much to do but he knew it was right. Walking over, he helped Padme up and walked her out of the door. He led her through the halls towards the medical bay, appreciative for the silence.

He didn’t need an argument right now.

As they got to the small room, he unlocked and opened the door. “I will have some of my handmaidens come and bring things from the ship,” she whispered.

He hadn’t realized that she had brought anyone. Oh, he hoped she hadn’t brought Jar Jar. He didn’t mind the Gungan, almost liked him really, but he had a tendency to get into trouble and that was the last thing they needed.

He was about to leave when she pulled him back to look at her. “There is good in Anakin, Obi-Wan,” she announced, although her voice stayed rather quiet, just firm. “You must see it. And I will prove it to you,” her tone reflected her eyes, something fiery and passionate.

This was always going to be a tragedy, he realized suddenly.

There was very little he could say to that. He didn’t believe her but then again, he was trying hard not to think of Anakin right now. His thoughts were dominated with the survival of his people, both jedi and clone.

He had to put them first.

“Okay,” he croaked.

And then whisked himself away as quickly as he could without making it seem like he was literally running from her.

He was entirely exhausted.

The talk with Padme had last longer than he had anticipated and honestly, all he wanted was to sleep. Could he though? How much was there left to do? Then again, at this point, he wasn’t sure if there was anything specifically, he could do, aside from perhaps trying to research? Maybe?

His brain just felt full. He wasn’t entirely sure if he would be of any help.

“There you are sir,” the familiar voice and tonal individuality of Boil registered to Obi-Wan’s ears nearly a beat too late. He turned to see the clone walking up to him, a small youngling on arm.

Waxer was the one who was outspoken about loving little ones but anyone who knew anything about Boil knew he loved being around them just as much.

The thought made Obi-Wan smile and his chest warm.

Presence of people that he cared about, that perhaps cared about him, ones that he didn’t constantly have to fight tooth and nail with, were something of a relief. Just a presence to fall into that wasn’t consistently looking for lies or secrets or to tear his head off.

“How are you, Boil?” he asked, trying for a smile.

It must not have worked very well because the clone gave him an odd glance but, in the end, he just shrugged. “I’m alright, just taking this young’in to the modified creche,” he explained, gesturing to the young jedi child on his hip. “He accidently got lost and I’m bringing him back before my allotted hours of sleep.”

“Allotted hours?”

How late was it?

“Sir, it’s quite late,” Boil pointed out, answering his unasked question for him, and gesturing lightly for the general to follow. He did so without pause or thought. It was interesting, he believed, how easily and unthinkingly he would follow them. Perhaps it was foolishness but perhaps it was just trust and faith. He was in a rather short supply of that these past few days. “The daytime officers and workers are getting ready for sleep. The Jedi are hunkering down in the creche places and barracks along with the children and troopers. I never realized how cuddly Jedi could be when they sleep together,” he added with a bit of a half laugh.

The child laughed alongside with him, although a bit louder and fuller.

“We slept in piles a lot,” Obi-Wan replied.

“We like to do that too,” Boil shrugged to keep a hold on the little one hanging from him. “It’s good that your sleeping arrangements are around the men, it’s good for morale, especially at a time like this. Everyone is a little freaked out, I think it helps there is someone they can trust around during those times.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. Who taught Boil manipulation tactics?

He paused, nearly tripping at the realization.

Oh right. Hedid.

Accidently, of course. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was giving lectures or classes on how to manipulate or negotiate yourself out of situations. But still, his behavior would be seeming to be biting him in the butt now, as his troopers were now using it against him.

Part of him almost felt impressed.

“Right,” Obi-Wan muttered.

The child hanging off of Boil, giggled knowingly. As the two of them dropped the child off at one of the places set aside for the children, Boil offered to escort him to the barracks for sleep. Obi-Wan tried to back out of it but Boil was rather adamant and then….

And then Rex showed up.

And Obi-Wan knew he was completely was doomed.

He couldn’t say no to Rex right now, not with what his troops had gone through.

“Hello, general,” Rex greeted with a bit of a wavering smile. He was trying hard. Obi-Wan suspected he had spent most of his day with the survivors of the 501st. He knew it wasn’t pretty and they were trying very hard to make sense of what had happened to them. “People have been wondering where you have been.”

“Is that so?” Obi-Wan hummed in response.

“Yes, the 501stsurvivors have been curious to know if you are coming back tonight,” he added in, thinking himself rather sly. Survivors; wasn’t that what they all were now. Survivors of a genocide, survivors of brainwashed slavery, survivors of being unmade into a vacant body.

“As a matter of fact, Boil was just escorting me to the barracks,” Obi-Wan shot back. He kept falling into this trap, he knew it. But at least this time he would not be caught floundering like the day before. “It has been quite the day, full of… colorful conversations.”

“Oh? Who did you talk to?”

“I had to have to talk about Senator Amidala and her pregnancy.”

Obi-Wan could practically just feel Rex’s stomach drop. “You…you know about that sir?”

“I probably knew about it before you did,” he muttered under his breath. As if Anakin could keep a secret like that from him, as if Padme could. Any Jedi that came across her would have known; would have sensed her pregnancy. He, of course, was the one who knew it was Anakin’s child because honestly, who’s else could it have been. But louder, instead he tried, “Yes. I’ve known about Anakin and Padme for quite some time. It is not difficult to sense her pregnancy. I do not know why Anakin thought he was being subtle or discreet. And you, captain, well, I think you could work on your acting skills a little.”

The captain just blushed hard. “My apologies sir.”

“No worries. It hardly matters,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “But talking with her, about what we had to, was rather exhausting and I will, quite frankly, be a bit glad to get some rest before the next day comes about. Because soon, we will be at Kamino and a whole new situation will arise.”

“We don’t know how much time it will be before the Empire comes after us,” Boil realized with a deep frown.

“So, we should get as much rest as we can until then,” Obi-Wan nodded at the two of them as they neared the barracks. “Because who knows how much real rest we will get once the new conflicts arise.”

***

It was the middle of the night when he had heard it.

Obi-Wan had been stuck in the near middle of a pile once again, surrounded on all sides by mostly clone troopers, the main force being the de-chipped 212th and the 501st survivors, with a few others they had rescued within the Temple before and during the siege. He could make out Inkspot somewhere, leaning against Trapper and Gearshift.

Many of the survivors, mostly those of the 501st specifically, had horrible nightmares, even so soon after the events. He couldn’t blame them; it was a horrible ordeal they had gone through. He tried to shield them the best he could, to help them sleep with less nightmares. He did his best. He didn’t dare take a look into what they contained, he feared they would just feed into his own.

For some reason or another, the scratching woke him up.

Shifting his body up carefully so he wouldn’t awake the troopers surrounding him, he glanced around at the barracks for the sound. No way he was just hearing it in his mind.

There. Some movement in the corner.

Carefully he cleared himself of snuggling troopers and got up.

Obi-Wan moved through the bodies, making his way to the edge of the pile of clone troopers until he found one of the 501st in the corner, frantically trying to scrub his armor. Not just his armor, the jedi realized, but the blue paint off of it. And there was quite a bit of it.

The trooper nearly jumped feet in the air when he realized Obi-Wan had sat next to him, his eyes wide in fear and panic.

“At ease,” he assured quietly but it did very little to ease the trooper’s anxiety. Obi-Wan reached out into the Force towards his presence.

Calmpeacesafe

It helped more than words had.

“Are you alright, Graffiti?”

The trooper looked at him, a little surprised. “You…know who I am? Y-You remember?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. Would you like to tell me what is going on?” he asked gently.

The trooper swallowed, staring down at his armor before tearing his eyes away. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes on it for more than a moment.

“Everyone has nightmares, it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I do, sometimes,” Graffiti admitted, hesitant with his voice choked on tears. “It’s not even the fighting or the war or anything. I just see blank faces, marching blue, so much blue. People…people always think when terrible things happen, when blood is shed, everything is in a haze of red because blood is red. But for me…for me it was a haze of blue. Not just any blue. The 501st blue. It’s…its supposed to be something proud of, a color we should be proud of.”

Obi-Wan just waited patiently.

“I woke up shaking this morning,” he continued, his voice quivering with tears already accumulating in his eyes as he shoved the piece of armor that was in his arms away. “It was so bad I couldn’t even put my armor on. One of my brothers had to do it for me. But even then, I…. I felt so awful. I kept making excuses to go to the head and then my brothers kept making excuses for me, just in case.”

“You do not have to wear it if you do not wish to,” Obi-Wan replied gently. “Things, I imagine, are going to be different now.”

“It’s…it’s not the armor itself,” he confessed, staring down at the piece that he was holding. “I don’t think it is the armor. It’s…it’s the color,” he looked confused when he glanced at the jedi, as if he wasn’t entirely sure why he was saying this or even the reasoning behind it. “Every time I see it, I keep getting sick. I keep remembering when we were marching towards the Temple, all the blue of the amor, creating a sea of soldiers, all in time and not even…not even hesitating on what we were going to do.”

“You couldn’t move.”

“I couldn’t even think until afterwards,” Graffiti admitted the quiver in his voice growing. “I just wanted to scream. Even after we got into the Temple, I remember everything but…it’s all in this horrible blue haze that I choke on. Something I was once proud to bear, a color that I was proud of, was twisted into something horrible and evil. I know it doesn’t make any sense but…”

“Sometimes things like this don’t make sense to others or even ourselves,” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet and calm as he looked over at the trooper. The latter had a difficult time meeting his gaze, but he finally had, tears welled up in his eyes, certainly obscuring his vision.

“I think I would rather have no paint, just be a blank set of armor like a no-name shiny again before I wear something that has been so twisted,” he whispered, running a hand along his helmet, half scrubbed of blue paint. “And isn’t that awful? I was brainwashed into being no one and now, I want to go back to being a no one again, just…slightly different type of no one.”

The jedi’s heart shuttered in his chest.

“Would you mind waiting here for a moment?” he asked, placing a hand gently on the soldier’s shoulder. “I will be right back. I think…I think I have something.”

Graffiti looked quite confused but nodded.

Obi-Wan stood up and made his way through the maze of people, towards the door. As he got to the halls, his pace quickened. There weren’t particularly many people around, but a few had caught him gliding through the halls quickly, often giving him looks that made him want to shrink back into the pile in the barracks.

Some did not seem happy to see him out and about.

He got to a storage room and opened the door. Upon finding what he was looking for, he grabbed it and hurried back. Obi-Wan came back, worked his way through the maze of sleeping men again, and set down a large can on the ground as quietly as he could. The trooper just stared at it, wide-eyed, a bit confused and certainly a lot speechless.

“It’s yours, if you want it.”

Graffiti took a moment to realize what it was. At first, he didn’t look entirely sure, like it might be a trap, but it took only a minute before he burst into a quiet sob, covering his face with his hands.

“It may not stop the nightmares,” Obi-Wan explained quietly. “But know that you will always have a place with us.”

Eventually, when he got a little more control of himself, Obi-Wan could make out a nod from him.

“I think I might need something new,” Graffiti rasped out, just barely.

“Perhaps you should make a visit to one of the creche groups,” Obi-Wan offered, shooting him a quick, warm, glance. “They are full of ideas. And they would love to see you.”

Graffiti met his gaze, his eyebrows scrunched together. He didn’t verbally reply but the jedi master had a feeling he would anyways.

Obi-Wan spent the rest of the night with him, quietly scrubbing off the blue paint and replacing it with shimmering gold.

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hallowedmuses · 3 years

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𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡: 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟

SUMMARY: Our ragtag team of heroes including Natasha Romanoff, Daniel Sousa, Clint Barton, Loki Laufeyson, Veronica Stevens, and Deke come together to rescue Director Daisy Johnson from the clutches of Lucia von Bardas. TRIGGERS: Torture, Violence, PTSD, Trauma WRITTEN WITH: @ofbartons, @oflokismischief, @ofdcniels, @daisyljohnson, @ronniestvns, @oflemcns

CLINT: when loki woke him up for the rescue mission, clint wasted no time. he threw on the first shirt he could find, which luckily was clean, and his shoes before literally tumbling out the door with his bow in hand. his fuzzy pizza-sliced patterned pajama pants wasn't the most tactical choice, but then again neither was his bright purple t-shirt and converse. once they'd arrived at the hellicarrier, clint took out the guards on a section of the deck before firing a bomb arrow at the wall to create a point of entry for 'tasha and the dude in the blue shirt. "i will admit, being subtle might have been the smarter play here." he chuckled over the comms while firing a trio of arrows. the explosion had two purposes in his head- one, the point of entry, and two, draw attention away from daisy's rescue duo. the second purpose was just working a little better than he'd thought it would. he slid across the deck, firing off a couple more arrows before standing up and kicking one of the guards in the chest. using the controls on the handle of his bow, he switched to a smoke arrow before aiming at a group of the guards "hey lo, i'm really glad you have the cape still." keeping the arrow drawn back, clint turned his head to look at his boyfriend "otherwise i'd be too distracted by that ass of yours." he winked and let the arrow loose, still looking in loki's direction "not to mention all these schmucks would be staring at it." he switched back to regular arrows before firing into the smoke.

LOKI: Loki should've known Clint would be far from ready when it was time to lead the mission, it had been quite awhile since he'd gone into battle but then again he did quite love the hunt when it came down too it. His mission was simply and if anything he could easily take out anything humans could throw at him. "Possibly but then again we have quite the army of people who have been missing out dear Director and I'd burn the place down if she wasn't in there." He mused throwing iced daggers at all who dared come near. For those who got to close they were met with his quick stabs and his illusions. when he heard his boyfriend speak chuckling softly "Its all about fashion darling, Those little SHIELD outfits do nothing for my figure" He mused back looking at Clint he always found his Archery skills rather attractive before he rolled his eyes "as for my ass I'm sure I can other wise to distract you, maybe flirt with a villain or two and see how much of your spy skills come out to play, after all Green is quite your color my hawk"

NATASHA: "Subtilty was never your strong suit, but I do appreciate the flare. The pajamas make it easier to find you too," she laughed as Clint shot a few explosive arrows to give herself and Daniel an entry point into the helicarrier. As Clint, Loki, and Ronnie guided Lucia's guards away from the entry point, Natasha and Daniel made their way in. Natasha fired off a few taser disks, hitting the oncoming guards squarely in the chest. She watched them fall to the floor, convulsing as electric shocks ran through their body. As the guards fought to peel the taser disks off of themselves, Natasha made her way through the hallway. She ducked as a few rounds of bullets came flying at her and Daniel. She grabbed him and pulled him toward the wall for cover. Natasha used the wall to shield herself as she fired at the oncoming guards. "Ronnie, have you located the room where Daisy's being held captive?" They could aimlessly fire rounds all day, but they needed to know what direction to go. She made a face as she heard bits and pieces of Clint and Loki's conversation over coms. "Honestly," she frowned and looked over at Daniel. "I can't even be mad. I did this to myself inviting those two along."

RONNIE: “Yea... I’m working.. on it.” Veronica breathlessly remarked over the coms. A few grunts could be heard as she flipped the guard she’d been tangled up with and stabbed him with one of poison daggers. “Now where were we.. a yess.. here we go.” Ronnie grabbed her data pad, ducking down behind a bolder as she took control of the building. “I’m in, I’ve got eyes on Daisy.. She’s alive..” Ronnie neglected to add how bad she looked from the live feed she was getting on their shitty surveillance system. “She’s on the fourth floor, third door to the right. Give me thirty seconds, I’m disabling the alarms and lock mechanisms now. I’m about to fry the fuck out of their systems and equipment. Can’t promise I won’t blow the lights.. hope you brought flares.” Ronnie playfully teased, falling forward as a couple of guards began to fire at her out of no where. “Hey lover boys! As uncute as it is listening to you flirt endlessly while taking out guards, I could use some help over here! Cover me while I shut down their main line.” She made a mental note to switch them over to their own channel when she was finished here.

DANIEL: while this wasn't the strangest mission he'd ever been on, that title probably had to go to the whitney frost case, this had to be the most chaotic and strange team daniel had been apart of. you had not one but two super spies (one of which was in pajamas and using a bow and arrow of all things), a tech genius, a god (or were they an alien? daniel was a little fuzzy on that particular detail), and deke... at least most of them seemed to know what they were doing. daniel ducked down when agent romanoff pulled him out of the line of fire "thanks." he waited for the shooting to stop, meaning the men were reloading, and once they did he leaned out at shot the men. keeping low he moved towards the door to the stairwell one he heard daisy's location. daniel couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the couple's banter "compared to the things i've heard howard utter, this is nothing."

DEKE: In the past, when Deke had thought about his 'next cool mission' this had hardly been the thing in his mind. Not Arrow-Guy in his pajamas, not working with someone who practically a God, Black Widow herself or well, any of them. Certainly not Daisy being in danger like this... But still, he was nothing if not adaptable. So adapt he did. Rescue Daisy now, rankle his mind about all these events later. There was something pretty calming about the group of them being so casual and prepared (though he still felt a spike of fear at every loud noise, the many of them). He was working with the best, Deke reminded himself. He'd gotten the Hyperbaric Chamber ready to go for Daisy upon their return, nervously awaiting. In one of his more anxious moments he'd thought about preparing food for Daisy before remembering he wouldn't know how long she'd be in there for. So, with the chamber up and waiting, Deke listened on the comms and waited. "How's it looking? It sounds pretty crowded." Crowded, being the word for all the many enemies they seemed to be facing (and taking down). "You guys doing okay?" He was fairly sure they were but it didn't hurt to ask.

DAISY: Daisy had been living in a fantasy world, but it could only last so long before she eventually had to wake up. Wake up was a relative term. It didn't mean she was entirely awake and aware, more so that she had to wake to the reality of her situation, that there were no happy endings, that she couldn't get what she wanted, that actions had consequences, and even when you thought you won, it could come back to bite you in the ass. In the time that it had taken everyone to track down her kidnappers, Daisy had been put through several different forms of torture. Lucia had even been so kind as to grace her with her presence, reminding Daisy of what she'd done to the woman and how everything she was going through now was her own fault. Daisy could give her that much. Daisy had done her fair share of awful things, even if she hadn't been entirely in control of her own actions at the time. Nick Fury Sr. had made sure of that. It seemed that even after she'd taken things over from him, he still managed to screw up her life, but in the end she wasn't really surprised by any of this.

Currently, she didn't know where Lucia was, and she was just surrounded by guards who had all made sure not to listen to a word she said. Still, that didn't mean she wouldn't try. Her ears were ringing, but she could still feel some kind of activity on the ship. She spat out blood. "Sounds like . . . you've got company," she taunted, her voice raspy and barely carrying out to them. Her breathing was shaky and uneven. "You might . . . wanna go deal with that." They ignored her, saying nothing.

CLINT: clint had been in a lot of sticky situations before, but this wasn't one of them... if anything he was like a greased up hog running from the farmers trying to catch him, which might be a little dangerous for him. bad things tended to happen to him when he got too confident, but at least both loki and 'tasha were here to keep him from dying. he was about to fire off an arrow when a guard came up on his left, so he turned and stabbed the arrow into the guy's eye "oooh... i hope your insurance includes vision." clint quipped as he fired another set of arrows into the group. "aww, don't be like that lady. you know that my husband and i are cute as fuck." he winked at her as he ran by, headed towards loki... not because he needed the back up but purely because clint wanted to get another look at loki. his look was different from the last time clint had seen him in his battle gear and the blonde had to admit it was a damn fine look. "hey handsome! you come here often?"

LOKI: Loki had enjoyed the thrill of field work, it had been such a long time since he'd been able to use his daggers and magic against an actual threat. The best part was having Clint fight side by side him, before they'd been on opposite sides of a war, never sharing more the small glances. He fought with a passion ensuring they would clear a spot to bring Daisy home, there was no way he was leaving without her even if it cost every single on of these humans lives. "Did you really just say that Clint?" He questioned chuckling softy as he quickly disarmed three more guys pinning them down with a couple of his daggers. "We actually are, plus you are the driving force that brought us together in life and on this mission. The blame is fully on your shoulders Nat darling." He teased the other as he noticed his lover coming towards him. He could easily see that glint in his eye whenever Clint saw Loki in his more regal clothes, though now he'd donned on his Asgardian wear leaving that as his go too field work outfit. He turned to reply to Clint before throwing a dagger right into the bad guy who'd tried to take Clint by surprise. "Depends on who's asking, and if they are going to buy me dinner first," He mused winking at Clint.

NATASHA: Natasha had learned long ago to tune out the chatter of the coms. She kept her volume low so she could focus on their current situation. If shit hit the fan outside, she trusted her team to be able to handle it. "Ah, Howard Stark. If working with him is anything like working with his son, I'd pass on the opportunity," she joked. Tony wasn't so bad...in small dosages anyway. The lights on their side of the helicarrier flickered before going out completely. In the next moment, Natasha and Daniel were bathed in an eerie red light. Ronnie must've knocked out the security system. Only the emergency lights were operational now. "Fourth floor, third door," Natasha nodded as they slipped into the stairwell. She heard heavy boots above them. Reinforcements were coming through. "Five pairs of boots," she whispered to Daniel as she ducked behind one of the spirals. As the sound of boots came closer, Natasha shot a taser disk at the first guard. He convulsed and fell forward, tumbling down the stairs. He was wearing the same mask Natasha saw in her memories. The widow jumped out from behind one of the spirals and landed a kick square in the chest of one of the guards. He fell forward and took a third guard down with him. Three out of five. Not bad. She turned to take down the other two, but it appeared Blue Shirt was already disengaging them. She would have to share the body cam footage from her stealth suit with Daisy later. That was sure to lift her spirits.

RONNIE: “Nice one Nat.” Ronnie mused as she watched Nat take out three guards at once, followed by Daniel knocking out a couple more. “You kids make a good team. Daisy’s gonna be so proud.” She snickered into her earpiece. She’d muted Loki and Clint’s come but kept an eyes on everyone’s body cams in case the lover boys got into trouble. She loved them dearly, but their banter was brining her lunch back up. “They’ve got her surrounded.. ten.. maybe fifteen guys.. the footage is shit.. but I’m trying.. ” Ronnie relayed, watching the room she was being held in like a hawk. “She’s saying something to them but no ones budging... hold on..” a few clips to enhance the audio and suddenly Ronnie was sporting a shit eating grin. “I knows we’re here. Hang on, Director.. we’re coming for you.”

DANIEL: hearing that they had eyes on daisy made him feel a little better but he wouldn't feel settled until she was out of here completely. after kicking the fifth guard in the chest, with his bionic leg for good measure, he turned towards natasha to see if she needed help "ten to fifteen? i think we can handle that." daniel smirked before reloading his guns "so how do you want to do this?" he peeked around the corner seeing that there were no guards outside the room but daniel knew all hell would break loose once they went in.

DEKE: He listened intently to the communications, hoping to hear word of Daisy's safety and prepare the Hyperbaric Chamber for her. Well, it was mostly prepared. It'd really be him opening the thing, then everything was smooth sailing. That is, if her injuries could be healed by it... Which they should. Unless she literally lost a limb or died she should be fine. She would be fine. He heard the ruckus over the comms and felt his heart swell with fear. "Any eyes on Daisy yet?" He asked desperately. Then he heard it. They found Daisy. "Is she okay?!" He asked over the coms, without much hope of getting an answer. They had other things keeping them busy, after all. So he continued waiting anxiously.

DAISY: As the fighting outside continued, the guards around Daisy got more anxious. They could hear on their comms that they weren't exactly winning this fight. "Let's just get rid of the dead weight," said one of the guards. "I doubt Lucia wants this one alive anyways."

"Did you hear her say that or are you just assuming shit again?" asked the other guard. "You know what she'll do if we go against her orders."

"Screw her orders. That's the fucking Avengers out there. If Lucia wants her alive, we can just blame her death on the Avengers, say they didn't give us any choice. Hell, we can say she attacked us." He pulled the tubes that had been connected to Daisy out, but there were still drugs in her system. She couldn't do much. She could barely move. He pulled her up by her hair, shoving a gun against her skull. "You're going to get them to stand down, or you're going to die.

"Guess. . ." Daisy choked on her words. It was hard to focus on her words, when she was focused on something else. "Guess I'll die then." Her shoulders moved up slightly in a shrug. She wasn't actually expecting to die now. She imagined Natasha was probably leading this charge, and these guards didn't stand a chance against her. If Daisy could just move her fingers a little more, she could help Natasha too. There. A small tremor shot out from her fingertips, and the door to the room slammed open. The guard still had a gun to Daisy's head, but Natasha would be here in 5...4...3...2...1... //

NATASHA: "Thanks, Ronnie," she replied when Ronnie relayed the message about what was waiting for them up ahead. "I dunno, Danny Boy," she smirked up at him. "I seem to be carrying all the weight here," she elbowed him gently. "Pick up the slack or I'm gonna leave you behind and save your girl myself. Maybe I'll steal the kiss right from under you too." Natasha glanced down at her utility belt to see what supplies she still had left. "I still have a few taser disks left. That should be enough to shock the oncoming guards. The rest we can take down the good old fashion way." And with that she heard the door to the room where Daisy was being held slam open. "Good girl," Nat grinned. Daisy was a fighter till the end. "Come on, Daniel. Let's work for a living." Natasha sprinted into the room full force. It didn't take long to make an assessment of the danger. She threw the first taser disk at the man who'd had a gun to Daisy's head. He dropped the weapon and began to convulse on the floor. Natasha threw the remaining disks that she had at the next few guards that tried to come at her. She used the momentum of their falling bodies to take down a couple more men. She was really hoping this would be the last of them.

DANIEL: the male let out a quiet huff at the update from ronnie "quack right?" he raised a brow before rolling his shoulders "to be fair, you are enhanced." daniel joked. he looked calm on the outside but internally he was worried about his girl... if that's still what she was. plenty of time had passed for her and daisy was probably given many opportunities to move on from some square she only knew for a short time... he wouldn't blame her in the slightest. nodding he followed after natasha, downing guards with his guns before exchanging blows with a couple. he dropped to the ground and knocked the legs out from under one before moving towards daisy his heart nearly breaking at the state she was in.

his hands were shaking slightly as he knelt down by her “hey... what did i tell you huh? i thought you were supposed to take care of yourself.” he was so relieved to see her again, although this wasn’t the reunion he had been hoping for after he had to stay behind to make sure that the team was able to escape back to their timeline with the chronicoms in tow. he worked as quickly as he could, removing any leftover wires and nodes from her body, while talking to her about... well, anything really. if anyone asked him later what he’d said, danny boy wouldn’t be able to tell you. his focus was getting daisy out of there and making sure she was safe. after he pulled the helmet off her head, he started brushing the hair out of her face “keep fighting okay? you stay awake for me daisy and i’m gonna get you home.” memories flashed in his mind of their time in the barn with malick, his heart breaking at the fact people kept hurting the amazing woman in front of him. he’d kick himself later for not trying to find a way back to her sooner, could he have prevented this from happening if he had? or perhaps he’d have been taken too, used against her in some way... he’d never really know, but daniel had to focus now. get her home, get her safe, make sure she’s okay three easy goals he could focus on. as gently as he could, daniel gathered daisy up in his arms and lifted her from the ground. “i got you sweetheart, it’s okay.”

DAISY: As the man who had been holding Daisy fell after being tased by Natasha, Daisy crumpled too, her body unable to hold herself up after constant torture. She was glad to have been right about Natasha coming in, but after her head hit the floor, her awareness of what was around her was fading again. She vaguely heard the sound of fighting, and then there was a familiar voice that she hadn't heard in a long time. Her eyes, covered in her own blood, wouldn't open anymore, but she recognized Daniel. She must've been slipping. It was a result of being so close to death. An auditory hallucination. It wasn't real. "Daniel?" she whispered, allowing herself to ask even when she knew this wasn't real.

NATASHA: Natasha was tired as she took out the last of the guards. Parts of her tactical suit were torn and her lip was bloody from where one of them managed to hit her, but she was thankfully in one piece. She pushed her coms button to give the team a status update. "We have Daisy," she informed them. "We're en route out through the north bay entrance. Take the carrier, find Lucia," her voice took on a darker tone. "I have some questions for her myself." Lucia von Bardas was the one that ordered this torture. Natasha was about to return the favor. She turned to see Daniel pick up Daisy. The woman was barely conscious at this point. Natasha approached them and gave Daisy a reckless smile before quacking obnoxiously. "I didn't give you permission to die. This is so unprofessional. I'm sure you'll make it up to me though."

Her coms buzzed. "Romanoff, we're in."

"Welcome to the party, boys," she grinned. Moments later she heard boots on the ground and the sound of rooms being checked and cleared. It was the back up unit that she'd called. "Come on, let's get her to the Hyperbaric Chamber."

DANIEL: "yeah sweetheart, it's me." he spoke softly as he adjusted his hold to keep a feel of her pulse like he had when he pulled her out of that barn all those years ago. watching the small interaction between natasha and daisy made him smile, seeing her have family like this made him so happy... it was everything she deserved. seeing the agents filing in daniel started moving out of the room, daisy didn't look too good and she needed to get back to hq to start recovering. he turned and looked over his shoulder, smirking slightly "you coming romanoff? thought you said you were gonna steal the kiss from me?"

DAISY: She still heard his voice speaking to her, and she felt like it was just a sign that she was going to slip away again soon. The sound of Natasha's voice was something she knew to be real. She could focus on it, though that was getting harder to do. She heard Lucia's name, and the hellicarrier started shaking violently. It wasn't intentional on Daisy's part. She was hardly in control of her body right now, but as Natasha came over to her and started quacking at her, Daisy calmed enough for the shaking to stop. She tried to return the greeting, but it only came out as choked gurgling. Apparently, blood in your throat didn't allow for very articulated speech, even in the instance of duck calls. She managed at least a small smile as Natasha criticized her for not getting permission to die. "n't dead yet," she wheezed out.

She felt herself being lifted up and moved through the halls. Her eyes weren't open, but she could hear and feel just well enough to know she was being moved quickly. Daniel's voice spoke again, and she had to remind herself again that this wasn't real. It was easier to believe that it was a hallucination from what he said. Even if it was her Daniel, she was sure Natasha would kick his ass for implying she was falling behind. Daisy hadn't been able to see much before, but she'd heard the fighting. Plus, she knew Natasha well enough too to know that she must've done almost all of the fighting here. From the sound of Natasha's orders, she was leading this thing. Whoever suggested she of all people was falling behind was going to regret the words coming out of their mouth. Daisy almost felt sorry for whoever it was, but at least it wasn't actually Daniel.

Whoever was carrying her, certainly not Daniel, got her off of the hellicarrier fairly quickly, or maybe Daisy was just losing her concept of time passing. She heard S.H.I.E.L.D. agents directing the person carrying her back to the zephyr, telling them to get her to the hyperbaric chamber as quickly as possible because she didn't look good. She fell back into unconsciousness before she found out if she made it into that chamber or not. Maybe she was dead. She hoped not. Natasha hadn't given her permission to die yet. How would she make it up to her?

DEKE: Deke was nervous. Not his usual 'state of being' kind of nervous but the more dastardly 'holy shit is my friend alive' kind of nervous. Also the 'she got tortured and it's my fault' kind of guilt laid in pretty thick too. But... he couldn't let that take away his focus right now. He needed to be an agent. Turn off the nerves and the guilt, he was a pro at it in the past he could for sure do it now. He would, if nothing else than for Daisy's sake. The moment Daisy was in, all hurt and bruised and broken but still Daisy, still strong. Well, Deke did what he did best. Move. As soon as it was possible with Daisy situated and safety in there the machination turned on and began it's process.

That was his part. Small. In the end, it was Daisy who would have the toughest job. And that was surviving. Deke inhaled deeply, wishing he could do more and knowing he could not. He ran a hand through his hair. "She'll be okay." He spoke, not even knowing if the words were for himself or the others. "She will..."

NATASHA: She rolled her eyes at Sousa's joke. "My pacing's fine. Yours though..." she frowned. She'd carried most of the operation from the investigation to the rescue mission itself so she wasn't even mildly amused. "We'll have to work on that if you wanna keep up with me and Daisy," she winked. She'd already stolen a kiss from Daisy...more than that actually. But she wasn't gonna tell the old man that. Bless his heart. Now that her team had moved in on the helicarrier, getting to the zephyr wasn't all to hard. Natasha's shoulders eased once Daisy was in the chamber. She would be okay.

"Romanoff, we have Lucia," one of her agents reported through the coms.

"I'm on my way." Natasha looked up at Deke, Daniel, and the others. "They have Lucia and I have questions." She also had a penchant for violence. And based on the way Daisy looked right now, Natasha had no plans to go easy on Lucia. "I think you guys can manage from here. Get Daisy home safe or the next body I bury will be yours," she informed the team. It was very clear she had the means to carry out on that threat. With that, Natasha left Daisy's side and made her way back to the helicarrier to interrogate Lucia. / END

#discord chat

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hockeylvr59 · 5 years

Text

Positive || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So here’s another new piece (because I can’t seem to finish any of my existing series). Fair warning this one is a little rough emotionally, so you know...take a moment to prepare yourself and then let me know how much you want to kill me after.

Warnings: light smut, ANGST

Word Count: 3,502

~~~~~~

Sitting on an unfamiliar couch with tears streaming down your face was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next five minutes were going to change your life forever, one way or another. Just the thought of that made it impossible to breathe, your chest tight as you buried your head between your knees. It was only the touch of a soft feminine hand that kept you even a little bit grounded, though that touch could only do much to console you as your world crashed and burned around you.

Thinking back, you wished you could change the events that had led up to this moment.

_____

You’d met Kevin through Jimmy Vesey and the two of you had become fast but casual friends. With you living in Boston while he played in New York and then Winnipeg and then finally Philly, you really didn’t see much of each other during the season. Phone calls were your most frequent form of communication and Kevin regularly called just to check-in or when he wanted to hear your voice after a bad game.

So when Kevin insisted that you join his family on vacation over the all-star break you were shocked. That seemed like a gesture that breached the ‘just friends’ relationship you had. You’d tried to insist that he should just enjoy his time with his family, but Kevin wouldn’t take no for an answer, threatening to fly to Boston to put your ass on a plane himself.

With your own commitments, you’d only been able to take a long weekend off and so you’d flown down to the tropics on Thursday evening, arriving sometime in the early morning hours Friday morning. As soon as you’d reached the front door to the beach house whose address Kevin had texted you, the door was pulled open and a pair of warm and strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to a muscular chest.

“Y/N! You made it!” Kevin greeted happily, his voice signaling that he had been sleeping until you’d texted him that you were in a cab on your way over. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He added.

“Hey, Kev…” You replied, a yawn slipping from your mouth as you spoke. It had been a fairly long flight but you hadn’t been able to sleep at all so now you were exhausted.

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” Kevin stated, clearly picking up on your fatigue. Walking up a set of stairs you were led into an empty bedroom, where Kevin placed the bag he’d taken from you onto the bed.

“Thanks, Kev…” You murmured, yawning once more. You watched him as Kevin draped one arm around you, pulling you into his side as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You’re welcome.” He assured you. “We don’t have any plans tomorrow so feel free to sleep in.” He insisted, pulling away from you and running his fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re actually awake.” He teased, walking across the room where he pulled your door shut behind him.

With little to no energy left in your body, you’d simply stripped down to your underwear before crawling into bed, sleep overtaking you the moment your head hit the pillow.

***

Friday had passed by in a bit of a blur...mostly because you’d spent half your day in bed. Sleeping until your body awoke naturally, it was almost 1 in the afternoon when you glanced at the clock next to your bed. Immediately your bladder signaled its needs and your stomach growled for food, so you pulled yourself out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top before slipping out of your room in search of a bathroom and then food.

The moment you’d descended down the stairs, a flurry of activity reached your ears, as did Kevin’s booming voice. You’d just reached the bottom stair when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly you were being swung around.

“She lives!” Kevin exclaimed and once he put you down you smacked him gently for scaring you.

“She needs food.” You informed him, only to have him nod and drag you to the kitchen where his mom and sister were making either a late lunch or working on the preparations for dinner. While introducing you to the women in the kitchen, Kevin poured you a bowl of cereal, placing it into your hands before disappearing.

He’d returned a moment later, his nephew in his arms and it was only then that he took a seat across from you at the small table and started chatting away, insisting on hearing about everything you’d been up to since you’d last talked.

The rest of the day was much the same, Kevin introducing you as one of his best friends to his entire family before pulling you from one thing to the other around the beach house. You’d gone swimming, played cornhole with the men, and helped his sister and sister-in-law clean up after a delicious dinner.

Though it had been a very low key day you’d learned one important thing: your attraction to Kevin grew tenfold watching him with his family.

***

Saturday morning had you up at a fairly normal time but when you’d gotten downstairs it was much quieter than it had been the previous day. You’d quickly learned from Kevin’s sister-in-law Kristen that the guys had gone to the golf course and had taken the kids with them and that Kevin had scheduled a spa day for all of the ladies, including you.

After eating a quick breakfast you’d gone to get dressed and ready to leave. It wasn’t until the group of you was in a car headed to the spa that Kevin’s sister had asked what was going on between the two of you. You’d protested, claiming that you and Kevin were just friends but it was clear that his family wasn’t buying it and honestly you couldn’t blame them. It had been one of the many reasons why you’d protested coming on this trip. This was a trip for Kevin and his family and the fact that he’d insisted you join them seemed to scream that he viewed you as more than just a friend. At the same time, as much as you wanted that to be true you knew that it wasn’t and never would be.

Eventually, Kevin’s family had dropped the inquiries about your relationship with him and instead just asked questions wanting to get to know you. It wasn’t long into your spa session before you were laughing with the ladies in Kevin’s life as you got manicures and pedicures. Your individual massage session left you feeling utterly relaxed and by the time you rejoined Kevin’s family after your facial, you were feeling completely spoiled.

It wasn’t until you were being dragged into another room and shoved into a chair to have your hair and makeup done that you realized the true spoiling was only just beginning.

Kevin was taking you out to dinner tonight.

He’d told his family that it was just because he hadn’t had the chance to spend time with you just the two of you but just like this vacation as a whole, it was starting to feel like his explanations were merely thinly veiled excuses. And while you weren’t sure how you felt about all of this, you weren’t about to turn down some time alone with Kevin as it had been months since you’d had any with him in person and not over the phone.

Arriving back at the house with your hair and makeup done professionally, you felt more beautiful than you could ever remember. Kevin had texted you that he’d be back at the house to get you in half an hour and so you rushed up to your room to change into the gorgeous sundress you’d brought with you. You’d brought it with you figuring that it could serve as a cover-up if nothing else, but now it was the only thing that was even semi-appropriate to wear out to dinner. Settling the fabric over your hips, you gazed at yourself in the mirror, smiling at the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up to go somewhere and it was a nice feeling. While you knew that you really didn’t have anyone to impress, you were hoping that you’d get a reaction out of Kevin nonetheless.

You’d just finished hyping yourself up for dinner when you heard Kevin’s booming voice calling your name. Slipping your feet back into your sandals, you started down the stairs, finding Kevin waiting for you in the entryway.

“How was golf?” You asked him, missing the look of awe on his face as he took in your appearance.

“Golf was good.” He responded, his hand drifting to your lower back. “You ready?” He asked and when you nodded, he guided you out to the rental car, helping you inside before slipping around to the driver's seat. “How was the spa? Hopefully, my family didn’t give you too much trouble?” He asked, glancing over at you while at a red light.

“It was incredible. Thank you, Kev. I feel beyond spoiled. And your family was great. I had a lot of fun.” You assured him, relaxing back into the seat of the car.

“Good.” Kevin mused. “Though you don’t have to thank me. You deserve it.” He’d added in a whisper and for a pause, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The restaurant Kevin had taken you to was gorgeous and the food was absolutely amazing. You had really missed spending time with Kevin like this and you enjoyed catching up with him. Hours had passed without you even realizing it and sadly before you knew it, it was time to return back to the house.

Arriving at the beach house, you were taken aback when you walked into the middle of an intense board game session, one which Kristen dragged you into declaring that they needed more players. It wasn’t until the early morning hours that every one trickled off to bed, a little tipsy, having spent hours laughing and carrying on.

Sliding between the sheets you thought about today’s lesson: you felt like you belonged while with Kevin’s family and maybe “just friends” was more blurred than you had thought.

***

Sunday was your last full day of vacation, your flight home scheduled for lunchtime Monday. You’d been woken up by a large body bouncing onto your bed and you groaned, shoving Kevin in the chest, still half asleep.

“C’mon Y/N...we’re spending the day on the beach.” He insisted, once again not taking no for an answer.

“Fine. Leave so I can get up and get dressed.” You murmured, having slept half nude the night before which was something you didn’t need Kevin to see.

“You have five minutes.” Kevin declared and though he didn’t say what would happen if you took longer, it was certainly implied that Kevin would drag you out of this room in whatever state of dress.

Laying in bed for another minute, you finally pulled yourself up and rummaged through your bag for your swimsuit. Sliding it on you then threw on shorts and a t-shirt before throwing your hair up in a messy bun. After grabbing sunscreen and your phone you slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs to find Kevin goofing off with his niece who was bouncing around excited to head down to the ocean.

Your day was spent in the sun and sand and waves, as you switched between working on your tan, playing with Kevin’s niece and letting Kevin drag you into the ocean. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun had begun to set. Returning to the house, the men worked on grilling up dinner while the rest of you settled into chairs surrounding a fire pit.

After enjoying dinner and changing into some actual clothes instead of a damp suit, you’d settled back into the chair, glasses of wine and bottles of beer floating around never to be emptied without being replaced. With the moon high in the sky, you enjoyed the evening with Kevin’s family, his nephew eventually being settled onto your chest, the little boy cooing as he snuggled into you.

Within ten minutes of being handed the baby, Kevin had come over and taken him from you, handing him back to his brother. Raising an eyebrow at him, you watched as he reached a hand out to you, pulling you from your seat.

“Come take a walk with me.” His words signaled that it was more of a demand than a request and though you were confused, you nodded, slipping off your sandals as you reached the beach to walk barefoot along it with him, nothing but the moonlight guiding your way.

“Kev...what’s going on?” You eventually asked him, the silence between you becoming overwhelming. Kevin didn’t stop until you had tugged on his arm, forcing him to look at you. When he did it was with eyes that were stormy and your heart picked up speed at the sight of them.

“Kev…” You repeated. “Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Kevin had never acted like this before and it was something that concerned you.

“I want to have a baby with you.” Kevin eventually spoke and your jaw dropped as you froze, just staring at him.

Eventually you found your voice again and were able to stutter out, “You what?”

“I want you to have my baby,” Kevin repeated. “You’re my best friend. My family loves you. And seeing you holding Beau. Fuck Y/N I need that.”

“Kev…” You breathed, unable to form any words other than his name with the way your head was suddenly spinning. Staring at him for a moment longer as he just stared back made it hard to breathe and after a moment you turned. “We should head back.” You said softly.

Kevin didn’t protest, instead linking his large fingers with yours as you walked, only dropping them just before reaching the eyesight of his family. Settling back into your chair you forced a smile onto your face and joined the ongoing conversation, accepting the fresh glass of wine you were offered.

Not long after, the kids were taken up to bed and the rest of the house slowly moved to follow them. Still, Kevin didn’t move from his spot and neither did you until the two of you were the only ones left out by the dying fire. Watching the flickering flames cast shadows on his face, the only thought that would come to mind was how handsome he was.

And you weren’t sure whether it was the fire, the wine, the earlier baby snuggles and playtime with Kevin’s niece, or the feelings for Kevin that you’d been suppressing for so long but something pushed you to your feet and over to stand in front of Kevin and it was only once he was looking up at you that you nodded.

“Okay.”

Without a word, Kevin nodded back, reaching up to take your hand before guiding you inside and up to his bedroom which was settled the farthest away from the bedrooms where the rest of his family was staying. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind the two of you and the lock flipped into place that Kevin pulled you close, his lips dropping down to yours as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist.

Everything after that felt like it happened in slow motion. Kevin’s hands were so gentle as he stripped you out of your clothing before lifting and gently laying you back on his bed. His accent was heavy as he slowly murmured about how much this meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how he couldn’t wait to see your body swell with his child. His touch and his kisses were slow and lingered, working your body close to the edge of orgasm not once but twice before finally making you fall apart. It was only then that Kevin pressed inside of you, his mouth silencing your screams as you cried out for him. The sound of your bodies rocking against each other was the only thing filling your ear until Kevin hissed and grunted and suddenly you were filled with a warmth as he spilled inside of you.

Sleep followed not long after but it wasn’t until you stirred early the next morning that you realized your next lesson of this trip: that you had made a massive mistake.

***

Tears formed in your eyes as you slid from Kevin’s arms and worked on silently gathering your clothes. After stopping to use the bathroom, you slid back into your room closing the door behind you. It was only then that you really started to cry as you worked to throw on proper clothes before packing your bag up to head home.

It wasn’t like you were going to leave before talking to Kevin, but...knowing that said conversation was likely going to turn into a fight, well, you wanted to be able to make a quick escape if need be.

Your stomach twisted as you made your way downstairs, and you forced a smile onto your face as you sat down to eat the eggs that Kevin’s mom was making. Hearing Kevin’s footsteps on the stairs, you got up to intercept him, pulling him outside.

“We need to talk.” You murmured, watching as Kevin eyed you anxiously.

“Okay.” He conceded, sitting down on the front porch step of the beach house.

“Last night was a mistake.” You started and immediately Kevin opened his mouth to protest, an action which you stopped with a shake of your head. “Kevin I’m sorry but it was. I can’t have a baby with you.” You whispered, afraid that someone would overhear you. “I was overwhelmed by the mood of vacation, the moon, the fire, the alcohol, you...but none of that is real Kev. What’s real is that I’m going back to Boston today and you’re going back to Philly and this…” You gestured between the two of you. “This won’t work. And it certainly wouldn’t be fair to even think about bringing a baby into.” It hurt you to see Kevin’s shoulders slump, but this was something that had to be said.

“Y/N please...we could make it work.” Kevin murmured and you shook your head, tears prickling in your eyes.

“No. No, we couldn’t.” You insisted, moving to head back inside. “I’m sorry Kev...but I’m gonna grab my bag and go to the airport. Thank you for everything.” As you started to walk past him, Kevin reached out catching just the tips of your fingers.

“Why?” The word slipped from his mouth without further context and you tugged your hand away from him, brushing the tears from your face.

“Because you don’t love me the way that I love you.”

Once back in the house, you grabbed your things before stopping to say a quick goodbye to the rest of Kevin’s family, making an excuse as to why you needed to leave for the airport early. You had a feeling they knew that something was up, but no one said anything and you thankfully didn’t see Kevin again before climbing into a cab. Your heart ached because last night had been so perfect. The problem was that it wasn’t real and you needed something that could be real. Sadly perfect….perfect wasn’t real.

_____

The steady tic tic tic of the kitchen timer finally sounded, causing you to jump. A glance over at Kristen revealed a concerned but supportive look as she nodded at you. You hadn’t known where else to turn, but you couldn’t do this on your own. You weren’t sure if she knew the details of what had happened or not, but the moment you had messaged her asking for her help she was quick to assure you that you had it. It had been six weeks since you got on a plane and left Kevin behind. Six weeks without a peep from him and you knew it was your fault. All of this was your fault.

“It’s time to look Y/N.” She whispered. “Take a few deep breaths.” She added, her hand rubbing over your back as you tried to get the courage to flip over the tiny plastic sticks. “Here. Hold my hand.” She insisted. With her strength flowing through your joined hands you took one final breath before reaching over to the coffee table and turning each of the three sticks in turn.

‘Pregnant.’

‘+ ‘

And two pink lines.

It had been one night. One mistake. And now you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You were having Kevin Hayes’s baby.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #philadelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #kevin hayes nws #nws #lemon #027 #pflyers

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newmusickarl · 3 years

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Album & EP Recommendations

As there is a HUGE amount to cover this week, I’m trying something a bit different with some slightly snappier reviews and a genre inclusion so you can head straight for the recommendation that matches your musical preference. There’s at least one album from all the key genres this week too, so hopefully a little something for everyone. Without any further ado then, here’s what’s good:

Album of the Week: Comfort To Me by Amyl & The Sniffers (Punk/Rock)

My personal preference from this week is the rip-roaring sophomore album from Australia’s own Amyl & The Sniffers. Although I was already vaguely familiar with the band’s previous work, I was still not prepared for the full throttle, smashmouth, rifftastic contents of this utterly brilliant record. As a result, this one hit me like a lightning bolt, thanks to the furious energy of frontwoman Amy Taylor and the mind-melting guitar work throughout.

From the off, absolutely nothing is held back here, as Taylor’s punk vocals and razor-sharp lyrics hit you in the ear like haymakers. What’s most surprising though is how the shredding guitar riffs that are littered across this record manage to sound so astonishing and impressive, yet at the same time as if the band are not even trying at all. It’s completely hypnotising yet everything is made to sound so easy and natural thanks to the sheer rawness of the music.

This one also already plays out like a greatest hits record too, with Guided By Angels, Security, Hertz, Maggot and Capital five of the best pure punk rock tracks to emerge in the last five years. Concise, in-your-face and no moment spared, this is a rock record the kind of which rarely gets made anymore. Without a doubt, one of the best of the year for its genre.

Listen here

Hey What by Low (Experimental/Alternative)

They may be 13 albums and nearly 30 years into their career at this point, but American experimental rockers Low show no sign of slowing down at this point. Still relatively fresh off the back of their hugely acclaimed album Double Negative, which was widely seen as the Album of the Year in 2018, Low are back yet again with another sonic trip into the weird and wonderful.

Now I must admit although a lot of people adored Double Negative, I personally was always a bit indifferent towards it. I appreciated the sonic textures and the heartfelt moments, but it never completely resonated with me like I know it did for others – one that fell into the “easy to admire, hard to love” category. That is not the case with this new album however, as with Hey What they seem to have further refined what they started on that record, creating an album that’s just as impressive but possibly more accessible than its predecessor.

Opener White Horses picks up pretty much where they left off under a tidal wave of soaring vocals and stunning yet unsettling distortion. From there you’ll once again be checking your audio equipment hasn’t broken, as Low playfully mess around with musical conventions and gargantuan glitchy soundscapes to great effect. This also allows the slightly sparser tracks like All Night, Don’t Walk Away and particularly Days Like These, to emerge out of this masterfully produced cacophony as some of the most haunting and stirring moments.

They may not have won me over with the last one, but they certainly have now – an outstanding album that leaves a lasting impression.

Listen here

Star-crossed by Kacey Musgraves (Country/Pop)

Golden Hour was another hit with the critics in 2018 that, much like the Low album, didn’t quite capture me. But again, just like Low, I prefer this latest work from country-turned-pop singer, Kacey Musgraves. With Star-crossed, Musgraves aims to craft her own Shakespearean tragedy, with all the theatre and the drama that goes with it.

The title track opener perfectly sets the stage as the gentle plucking of the acoustic guitar is suddenly surrounded by soaring, multi-layered instrumentation. It is all hugely cinematic and from there on in, Musgraves weaves her tale of heartbreak with plenty of catchy hooks, polished production and solid, heartfelt songwriting. However, the best moments are arguably when Musgraves keeps it raw, such as on camera roll where she takes something as simple as finding old photos of a lost lover on a phone and relaying back to the listener the pain that moment can bring.

In a year that’s already seen some brilliant pop albums, Musgraves stakes her claim with a well-crafted record built on a tried and tested concept. It’s a successful outing with more than enough great tunes and interesting instrumentation (see the jazz flute on there is a light in particular) to keep you interested from beginning to end.

Listen here

Enjoy The View by We Were Promised Jetpacks (Alternative)

Scottish indie rockers We Were Promised Jetpacks also released their stunning fifth album this week. This one pulls at the heartstrings from the get-go as the gentle waltz of reflective opener that’s Not Me Anymore immediately locks you into the record and refuses to loosen its grip until the very last note. There’s plenty of spine-tingling moments throughout too, such as the melancholic riffs of All That Glittered, the haunting sparseness of What I Know Now and the uplifting melody of I Wish You Well.

Listen here

Back In Love City by The Vaccines (Indie)

A band well adept at writing killer hooks at this point, indie rockers The Vaccines have also returned with their fun fifth album this week. Not too much to say about this one other than if you are a fan of their previous efforts the chances are you’ll adore this one too, as their music continues to deliver big riffs and anthemic choruses aplenty, but with more refinement and polished craftmanship at this veteran stage in their career. Highlights include the ultra-catchy title-track and the galloping, Western-stylings of Paranormal Romance, which comes across a bit like their own version of Muse’s Knights of Cydonia.

Listen here

Mother by Cleo Sol (R&B/Soul)

Fresh off her high-profile collaborations with Little Simz and Sault, singer-songwriter Cleo Sol has once again stepped out on her own, this time exploring themes of motherhood. Gracious, compassionate and quite moving, it’s a stirring soul record where Cleo’s soft yet powerful vocals take centre stage against a backdrop of minimal instrumentation. If you need something peaceful and easy listening, you won’t go wrong with this one as Don’t Let Me Fall, Promises and We Need You offer up the most beautiful moments here.

Listen here

The Melodic Blue by Baby Keem (Hip Hop/Rap)

There is a lot of pressure that comes with being Kendrick Lamar’s cousin, however you wouldn’t know it listening to Baby Keem’s assured debut album. Although it is admittedly quite hit and miss (first two tracks trademark usa and pink panties ironically leave a lot to be desired), there are enough high points here to make this record worth your time. The collaborations with Kendrick (range brothers and family ties) both strike a chord while the Don Toliver (cocoa) and Travis Scott (durag activity) featuring tracks also dazzle. That said Keem is arguably at his best when he’s riding solo, such as on the heartfelt issues and the Kanye West Love Lockdown sampling, scars.

Listen here

I’ve Been Trying To Tell You by Saint Etienne (Ambient/Electronic)

Crafted over lockdown, this tenth studio album from the London trio is a gloriously understated dive into modern British history, 1997-2001 to be precise. By using evocative imagery and samples from the turn of the millennium, where R&B and bubblegum pop dominated the musical landscape, they have forged quite a dreamy ambient record. Wonderfully creative and a fairly chill listen, it’s a fascinating reflection on a time when the world seemed a lot less complex than it does today.

Listen here

The Blacklist by Metallica (Metal/Various)

And lastly on the albums front this week, I have been promoting the various Metallica covers released as part of the The Blacklist project for several weeks now, but now finally the full album has been revealed along with all the covers yet to be shared as individual releases.

At 53 songs long, the tribute to Metallica’s classic Black Album is certainly not one to run through in a single sitting, however there is plenty of fun covers here to dip into and explore. In case you haven’t seen, amongst those offering their own versions of these classic tracks are: Miley Cyrus & Elton John, Phoebe Bridgers, Dermot Kennedy, Weezer, Biffy Clyro, St. Vincent, Rina Sawayama, Sam Fender, Flatbush Zombies, Portugal The Man, IDLES, Cherry Glazerr and many, many more.

Listen here

Tracks of the Week

Beautiful James by Placebo

I’m also over the moon to say Placebo finally released their new single this week, their first since 2016’s Jesus’ Son. Beautiful James shows that Brian Molko and Stefan Olsdal haven’t missed a step in their five-year hiatus, with this one centred on a typically instant chorus and some neon-soaked synths. A big welcome back to one of my all-time favourites!

Listen here

I Don’t Live Here Anymore by The War On Drugs

Although the first single from their forthcoming new album may have been more understated than normal, on this title track Adam Granduciel & Co. return to the soaring stadium-sized rock for which they are known. Undoubtedly one of their finest tracks to date, you’ll want to stick this one on repeat just so you can keep getting lost in those wonderfully atmospheric guitar riffs.

Listen here

Arcadia by Lana Del Rey

And finally, Lana continues the build towards her second album of 2021, Blue Banisters, with this latest single seeing her on typically vintage form as the song sounds as if it was pulled from another time. With distant horns and a gentle piano, it’s as stunning as any of her best recent work.

Listen here

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timeforelfnonsense · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

Astarion x Dafni

Rating: T

Hurt/Comfort

TW for depression mention

Ao3

I’ve been working on this bad boy for a month and it’s done at last!

An important note: There is some reference to the Lolth Sworn drow in this and I feel the need to clear the air and state that I have some issues with the way WotC characterizes the drow as inherently evil. My house rules are that none of the races are inherently evil because the broad strokes in the source material as problematic af. So while the followers of Lolth might be evil I want to make it clear that doesn't equal all drow are bad. Dafni holds all varieties of elves in tender regard. As an eladrin of the fey wilds and a follower of Corellon she understands that fluid and changing nature of all living things. Life is messy and people do not fit into boxes, very few folks are all bad or all god. Not every elf worships the Seldarine and that’s ok. A fundamental part of Corellon is freedom and choice therefore it would be foolish to insist her path is the only right one. Her issue is with Lolth not the drow as a whole.

The Underdark was a horrid and forsaken place. A shudder ran down Dafni’s spine as she rubbed away the gooseflesh cropping up across her arms. Lolth’s influence hung heavy in the stale air. She would have to step lightly. A cleric of Corellon would be a great prize to the followers of the Spider Queen. She missed the warm sun on her face, the feeling of grass beneath her bare feet. She could feel herself wilting under the oppressive darkness that surrounded them.

Anxiety was a strange and forging feeling. The majority of her 160 years had been spent embodying the playful delight of spring. Perhaps it was on account of her relative youth. Or, maybe it was the influence of Corellon Larethian, whose wild and wonderful influence she had felt all her life. He had looked out for her. Cared for her as a father would his child. Truly, Corellon felt as much a parent to her as her mother, Thesmia did. A meek half-smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He had given her a reason to leave home when the wanderlust became far too much for her to contain. If she was to flourish as both an elf and a divine servant, Dafni would need to truly know herself beyond being Thesmia’s shadow. Absentmindedly her fingers reached for the familiar crescent moon that hung from her neck.

Her feet skidded to a halt, her trembling hand pulled away empty. Her blood turned to ice. An agonizing dagger of guilt pierced her heart and she felt as though the ground beneath her would open up and swallow her whole. Part of her wished that it would. She had carried the holy symbol since she was a young girl. Though she knew in her soul it had been her’s even before that. It had served as her connection not just to her god, but her heritage and primal spirit- The very essence of her being.

“I lost it.” Her voice was less than a whisper, stunned and distant. Tears began to well up in her eyes. The world around her was growing colder by the second. “My amulet is gone.” Her breath began to come out in heaves and she began to sob in earnest. “It- It must have gotten lost when the minotaur tossed me!”

Her sharp cry stopped her traveling companions in their tracks. Each of their faces dressed in varying degrees of confusion and concern. Gale began to speak but his words were drowned out but the low ringing in her ears. A dizzy, sickening feeling bloomed in her gut and the edges of her vision began to blur as the darkness she had so feared gripped her soul.

They had doubled back to the old Selûnite fort. The others were still there setting up a temporary camp. Shadowheart hadn’t been able to find anything physically wrong with her aside from the normal bumps and scrapes that were to be expected on an active adventurer.

Astarion felt truly helpless for the first time since he’d escaped Cazador’s clutches. It had been an hour and Dafni had yet to wake. He clasped her hand in his. A soft blue had slowly been spreading over her sage-green skin, creeping its way from the tips of her fingers to the crown of her head. Her locks were shifting at the root from rosy pink to a frosty teal. The flowers that wove through her loose ponytail had all weathered into dust.

He squeezed her hand, “Come on Daffodil…”

Gale had been fairly positive that this was, to some extent normal for the eladrin of the Feywilds. Something about a book he’d read by some notable wizard? Truth be told Astarion hadn’t been paying much attention. He was too busy staring down Lae’zel, who’s paranoia filled gaze had been locked on Dafni’s sleeping form from the moment they’d returned.

He should have been annoyed at her. The loss of some silly costume jewelry had caused her to swoon like a high born lady. He knew she was made of stronger stuff than that. Her little spell had put them all behind and left them without a healer the whole trek back to the fort. Yet, try as he might Astarion couldn’t seem to conjure up the ire he held for those too weak to survive hardship on their own.

He groaned, letting his head hit the wall behind him with a soft thunk. There it was again- That damn sentimentality! By the Hells, he was a vampire, not a nursemaid! What had gotten into him?

“You should rest.” Wyll placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll keep an eye on her for a bit.”

His eyes went narrow, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The idea of leaving her while she was vulnerable made his blood boil.

I’ll watch your back and you watch mine…

Her promise echoed through his thoughts. Dafni had held her end of the bargain with unwavering resolve. If he left now it would feel too much like betraying the one person he’d allowed even a fragment of trust in the past two centuries.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t an appropriate reaction.” He muttered while he whisked away an icy tear from her cheek. “I’m just a bit... Out of sorts.”

Wyll nodded, taking a seat on the dusty floor beside him, “Hey, she’s tough. She’ll pull through, whatever this is.” The warlock gave him an almost smug look, “You really care for her don’t you?”

“I hardly see how that’s any of your concern.” He sneered with a wave of his hand, “Besides, my concern is simply a matter of pragmatism. Our little band of misfits can’t afford to lose our best healer-” Astarion hesitated for a moment before adding, “Don��t tell Shadowheart I said that. We need not add my body to the pile- Should things go poorly.”

“If I promise not to sell you out will you take a break?”

For the first time since she had fainted, he noticed the scratchy dryness in his throat. Astarion scowled, there was little in the way of appetizing food that he had seen but he would just have to make due. He was loathed to leave her side but Wyll was a good man, a better one than him in truth. He would keep her safe.

“What’s this? The legendary Blade of the Frontiers, stooping to common blackmail.” He tried to keep his tone flat but he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips, “Fine, I’ll take a break. I’m a bit parched anyway. I suppose I’ll try to track something palatable down here. Unless…”

He arched an eyebrow towards Wyll who moved away with an overstated scoot.

“Not a chance, now go!”

Cold.

A crushing, all-consuming chill wrapped its arms around her spirit. Spring had left her. Now she stood alone in the isolating melancholy of winter. She reached out for the familiar warmth of The Protector but here- In this cursed place his influence felt far and foreign. If only she had her holy amulet. It could have served as a compass leading her back to Corellon’s embrace. She would simply have to press on. She had put them behind already and there was no time for sentiment. She wouldn’t be able to cast spells until she found a replacement and the chances of a spare symbol of her god in the Underdark were laughable. Dafni tried to sniff back the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes but it was no use. They rolled down her baby blue cheeks freezing before they could fall to the ground. She glanced up at Astarion, who walked a few paces ahead. While Gale and Wyll had spent the better part of a day coddling her, he had remained distant.

Maybe he didn’t want her like this? Her sadness threatened to consume anyone near her and he had enough grief of his own. He had admitted once that he enjoyed having her near. Whispered in her ear that she was sunlight and happiness made flesh as he took her in a flower patch of her own creation.

The feeling of a gentle hand pulled her from her thoughts. Gale offered her a small smile before speaking, “Are you all right?”

“Oh-” She sniffed, whipping away another frozen tear, “I’ll be alright. I just don’t feel much like myself right now.”

Gale nodded in response, “Yes, I can see that. Perhaps we shouldn’t have brought you here. The Underdark does seem quite at conflict with the very core of your being.”

A mournful laugh escaped her aching chest, “I don’t think we’d have had any better luck with that shadow curse above ground. No, my sorrow isn’t a good enough reason to risk the rest of the group’s safety.” She brought an icy hand to Gale's cheek, causing him to shiver, “I appreciate your concern but really I’ll be alright. We eladrin are ruled by our emotions, a shift of season was inevitable at some point or another. It’s unfortunate for the rest of you it had to be winter. Things are dire enough without my sorrowful presence bringing you all down with me. Perhaps it would be best for all of you to keep your distance.”

She sighed, her eyes falling on Astarion, who lingered just on the edge of the bitter cold her sadness created. While it pained her to say it, she knew he was right to keep away. The others should do the same if they were wise. Gale gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“He’s a funny one, Astarion.” Gale mused, “Wyll told me he had to resort to extortion to pry him from your side while you were out. Yet, today he acts as if you have the plague.”

A small snort of laughter broke past her tears, “Extortion?”

“I believe comments were made comparing Shadowheart’s healing abilities to your own. Wyll offended his silence in exchange for Astarion taking a break.”

“That’s not fair to her.” Dafni sniffed, “She’s not a life cleric, she does her best.”

“You have a good heart, Dafni.” Gale said giving her arm a squeeze, “My point is I think he cares about you, in his own odd way. At the very least he’s far more pleasant when you are around”

“You really think so?”

“I do,” Gale assured, “he’d have to be the biggest fool in Faerûn not to see how wonderful you are.”

Dafni felt a bit of warmth return to her heart. Not enough to thaw her sorrows but it was a start. Gale’s words helped her sort through the chaos of her mind as they had so many times before. He was a loyal and kind friend, as was Wyll. Shadowheart too despite her evasive and secretive nature. Even Lae’zel had warmed to her as best she was able despite their differences. There was a solace to be found in the support of her peers. She wasn’t so alone after all.

The sound of her laugh hit Astartion like a battering ram. She seemed to be in slightly better spirits since arriving in the Myconid Circle. She floated about the fungus folk with an easy familiarity. It seemed being among the vibrant plants and creatures of grotto had offered her some sense of normalcy. He looked over his shoulder to see what had coaxed a giggle from her (no matter how pitiful and melancholy it sounded). A sharp twinge of jealousy ran down his spine as he watched Dafni stroke Gale’s cheek with a somber smile.

He bit the feeling back. It was better for them both if he kept his distance. Gentle kindness was hardly his strong suit. Gods, he was a disaster. How many times had she offered him comfort even when he spurned her? She had given so freely to him, her kindness, the warmth of her bed, the very blood in her veins. And there he was relying on someone else to comfort his lover.

Dafni was a resilient little thing. So optimistic and sweet it made his teeth hurt. It was disorienting to see her so morose. He had learned the boundaries of her emotional aura rather quickly. He had noticed an unfamiliar warm feeling that first night at camp. He found himself lingering near her as often as he could after that. Savoring the tender happiness that radiated from off of her. She had told him it was simply part of her nature. A charming quirk he’d grown to enjoy a great deal. But now he could feel her heavy sorrow as if it were his own and he longed to make her hurt go away.

Damn sentimentality.

He had his own worries. He didn’t need to take on hers as well. She didn’t need him to coddle her. And more importantly, he most certainly was not beholden to her contentment for his own survival despite his halfwit heart’s insistence to the contrary. She was making him soft. It was ridiculous! He was far too old to be fretting over her like a lovelorn sprat.

It must be the tadpole. Her compassion must have wormed its way into his brain somehow. That was the only logical explanation.

He needed to clear his head and get some distance between them so he could feel more himself. He wandered aimlessly about the grotto as he attempted to show away any feelings of softhearted sympathy but it was no use. He rubbed his temples and let out a frustrated huff. He should never have taken that first taste of her. She’d become an irresistible craving from that moment on. It wasn’t just her blood, but every aspect of her that called to him. Inviting him to take refuge in her affections. He could feel himself lowering his guard a little bit more each day despite his efforts to keep her at arm's length. She’d flash him that beguiling little grin, her topaz eyes brimming over with admiration and he would find himself tempted to let her just another inch closer. He’d known she was dangerous from the moment he clapped eyes on her in the wreckage of the crash. He’d prepared himself for a stake to the heart but the infatuation she had inspired in him was infinitely more frightening and possible just as deadly.

He made his way to the alcove where the Society of Brilliance had set up shop. The strange hobgoblin had mentioned something to the party about being a collector of magical items and oddities. Walking had failed to rid him of his frustrations perhaps shopping would.

A glimmer caught his eye as he approached the cluttered stall. There, on the table was a familiar silver amulet. He was going to get it back for her and pray the gesture was enough to curb his need to see her happy. He could swipe it easily enough but he didn’t want to draw trouble to Dafni if she was spotted wearing it. No, charm and a dash of intimidation would be his best shot.

“Excuse me,” He smiled wide allowing for a slight flash of his fangs, “I was hoping you would be willing to part with that necklace.”

“A vampire interested in the acquisition of a holy symbol?”

“Yes, it’s very ironic.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Now, how much do you want for the damn thing?”

“Well, first time for everything.” the hobgoblin shrugged, “You have a good eye, this is very unique. It’s forged from mithral and inlaId with sylvan moonstones. The holy symbol of Corellon is more commonly depicted as an eight-pointed star these days rather than the crescent moon. Meaning this item is very old indeed! It was brought in just yesterday. I would be hesitant to sell it but my research does require more funding. How does 900 gold sound?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you but ‘very old’ is a relative term when it comes to items of elvish origin.” He kept his tone flat and unimpressed, “Long-lived people do tend to hold onto things.”

“Ah, but you’ll find this is more than your average antique! Judging by the craftsmanship I would say it dates back to the time of the primal elves.”

Shit.

Of course, her necklace had much more than sentimental value. He had hoped for a quick haggle but it seemed he was going to have to work for it. He really didn’t have that much coin on him, nor was he inclined to spend it on something that was not rightfully the hobgoblin’s to sell. He raffled through his mind searching for a thinly veiled threat or convincing argument to lower the price until the perfect mixture of the two dawned on him.

Astarion let out a droll hum as he checked his nails with casual disinterest. He spoke in a low, blasé voice, “You said before you weren’t much for combat? Don’t you think it’s risky, carrying around a holy item of Corellon in the den of the Spider Queen? It would be such a shame if something were to happen to you at the hands of a zealot. Really I’m doing you a favor by purchasing it. I’ve crossed swords with the Lolth sworn before they are merciless and skilled fighters almost as dangerous and bloodthirsty as vampires.”

He let a wicked bark of laughter. A bemused expression flickering across his face. He could smell the fear stirring in the timid merchant. It would seem he hadn’t lost his edge after all.

Blurg swallowed hard before mustering a response, “ Ah- I hadn’t thought about that...”

Dafni sat cross-legged on the ramparts of the fort fletching a new batch of arrows. She’d need more to compensate for her lack of magic for the time being. She’d spent the whole trek back to their camp scanning the ground for her necklace but it had all been for not. She’d just have to accept the fact it was gone no matter how much it broke her heart.

“There you are, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The sound of Astarion’s voice caused her to jump, tossing her arrow down with a start. Dafni clutched her chest shooting him a sharp look. He only laughed, his infuriating gorgeous face fixed in a grin that reminded her of a satyr who stumbled upon a river of bathing nymphs. He dipped to his knees placing a hungry kiss on her scowling lips. He couldn’t be serious. All-day she had been desperate for his attention and he was completely uninterested but now that he had an itch to scratch he was searching up and down for her. Unbelievable! She shouldn't have been surprised. It wasn’t as if he’d ever promised her his undying love and devotion. Still, she had thought him tactful enough not to proposition her after the hell she’d been through that day.

“I’m not really in the mood right now.” She scolded, “You’ll just have to entertain yourself tonight, you egotistical lecher!”

“That- Isn’t why I sought you out. But, if you truly don’t want my company I’ll leave you be.” He shrugged his tone flippant despite the flash of vulnerability in his ruby eyes.

“I- I’m sorry that was really mean and uncalled for. Please stay.”

Stupid impulsive girl.

She slumped forwards, hiding her face in her knees. She could feel the icy tears threatening to spill over for the hundredth time that day. He’d come to check on her and she’d cut him down because of her own insecurity. The bitterness had gotten the better of her and she had unwittingly discouraged his attempt at compassion.

“If you think the accusation of being a rake is the most heinous insult that’s been hurled at me I’m afraid you’ve missed the mark by quite a lot.”

He sat down beside her, placing a hesitant hand on her back. She could sense his uncertainty. He was nervous and clearly out of his depth but he was trying. His cautious fingertips moved slowly across the expanse of her back, tracing nebulas shapes and patterns as she drew short, shallow breaths. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She just knew he was staring at her with the same wide, gentle eyes he had when she’d offered her neck to him that night in the woods. If she saw him like that the dam would break and she’d be an utter mess.

“I still shouldn’t have said it.” Her voice came out shaky and quiet as she peeked over the top of her knees at him.

“I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you.” He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “I have something for you. Now, stand up and close your eyes.”

She arched a questioning brow but compiled, hopping to her feet. He pushed her ponytail to one side. His touch lingered on her jumping pulse causing a shiver to run down her spine. A warm chuckle falling from his lips in response. The cool feeling of metal draped across her throat, an otherworldly comfort hummed all around her as the delicate weight of a pendant fell against her chest.

“Where did you find it!!” Dafni gasped, “I thought I had lost it forever! You can’t fathom how much this means to me.”

“It’s a gift, to repay you for all the ones you’ve given me.”

It probably seemed a small thing to him but he’d returned a missing piece of herself. Words felt woefully inadequate to express her gratitude. She threw her arms around his neck, sending him staggering back a bit. She hardly noticed. She stood on her tiptoes placing gentle kisses all over him. First over the bridge of his nose and then his cheeks and down his neck. Her fingers laced through his soft curls tugging him close, her lips brushed against his. Astarion’s hands fell to her soft waist, his mouth ever so slightly parting for hers. Dafni sighed, running her tongue along the warm seam of his lip earning her a satisfied purr. His hand ventured to the small of her back gently coaxing her closer. She took in a deep breath, the dizzying blend of leather and patchouli making her weak at the knee. She could have stayed like that forever, pressed safe and content against his solid chest. The feeling was big and terrifying but magical and perfect all at once.

Drat...

She was falling in love with him.

#elf writes #bg3 early access #bg3 oc #bg3 #Wyll #shadowheart #gale #wyll and astarion are besties you can't change my mind #astarion #dafni of gwynneth

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