#they made that perilous journey together

[silviakundera]

another Story of Kunning Palace MTL novel passage. Xie Wei POV on that fateful trip to the capital. That expression on his face as their fate ends in the 1st life... After reading this, it makes me want to cry forever.

//

Xie Wei thought of a long time ago when the little girl, who clearly hated him, shed tears all day long when she saw him so ill. Staying by his side out of fear that he will die next to her and she will live with a dead person; if you want to go out to collect medicine, you are afraid of mandrills in the wild and wolves that walk at night.

That day was heavy snow. It was getting colder in the deep mountains, and white snow was falling on the high places.

The little girl was tired from crying all night.

He woke up in a daze, but there was no one in the morning.

It wasn't until noon that he saw white shadows walking in from outside the cave. She was covered in cold air, her head and shoulders were covered with snow, her lips were bruised, she picked herbs from nowhere, and she struck flint with trembling hands. But the branches were all soaked this day, she couldn't light it, but she didn't cry, she just crushed the herbs bit by bit, and put them into the broken bowl she picked up from some grave.

His knife stuck in a crevice in the stone.

It took her a long time to pull it out, and scratched her wrist tremblingly, the bright red blood trickled out, meandering into the broken pottery bowl at the corner, mixed with the dark green medicinal herbs, and became a thick ink purple.

Then she brought the bowl to his lips.

The young girl's face was bloodless, and she coaxed him with a crying voice: "Zhuangzi came up with a very powerful doctor, and he used this prescription to save the dead. Just drink the medicine and it will be fine..."

How can the dead be saved?

Most of them are bluffing tricksters.

He still can't tell whether it is his dream or not.

Only the extremely astringent herbs mixed with the rust-like bitter taste of blood flowed out from the depths of memory from time to time.

Then he burned it, and it seemed to be fine.

The little girl became confused.

He went out to explore the way and find some food, but she always tugged at his sleeves. She was unconscious, but she still complained dreamily: "I knew it, you have to go by yourself when you're done..."

As a last resort, he softened his heart and walked behind her back with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

But she still felt that he was not a good person and would leave her behind.

He had no choice but to tear off a narrow strip of the already dirty robe, tie one end to her wrist and the other end to his own wrist, and then told her: "Now I am tied to you, and no one can go first." I am here.

Her sleep talking slowly stopped.

Xie Wei recalled that it was really the craziest and most stupid time in his more than twenty years.

There seems to be such a belief in the dark—

I believe that in such a desperate situation, there is still a glimmer of life to be found. There are no qin and books, no knives and swords, no heavenly religion, no imperial court, no life experience, and no revenge, only the mighty world, and two people who want to live.

[northgazaupdates]

Eman’s family managed to evacuate Gaza through Rafah crossing a few months ago. However, their resettlement in Egypt has been extremely difficult. Eman’s husband has been treating his chronic heart condition, and her youngest child was sick with a virus of the liver. Eman is now trying to get funds together so that her two oldest children can attend university, and her two youngest can attend school. They have received only a single donation in the last four weeks, and are nowhere near their goal.

Please help this Palestinian family build a better future

Verified by the campaign host and by @moatazart

[orangekittyenergy]

gale being woken up for sex. that’s the prompt. (based on the post about his reaction to the vampire attack in act 3)

Oooooookaayy 😏❤️ I'll be honest and say I don't recall the post about the vampire attack but I just grabbed this idea (like I'd grab Gales cock) and just went with it.

NSFW

Gale x GNreader – 1700 words

Tav wakes Gale up with a blow job (established relationship but still on the road - vague for what section but definitely after the love confession)

It was late by the time you and the team were trudging back to camp. You noticed the fire was already burning low, a hot pit of embers and small flickers of flame still warming the cook pot next to it.

You glanced around; no one was awake. Of course not. You turned around, but the others had immediately headed off to their tents to change and fall into their own beds. Another hard fought battle. Another weary day ahead. You couldn’t blame them.

You stepped toward the fire to peek inside the cauldron. A simple meat stew, likely one of Gale’s concoctions. Glancing over to his tent you wondered if he might still be up, reading a book by the light of a spell like he usually was.

He was much chagrined to be left behind at camp this time. Especially since formally being romantically partnered now. But you had insisted. He had taken a nasty blow from a spell the day before and there was only so much healing that spells and potions could do. Despite his lengthy points, which he listed out on each one of his fingers, as to why he should join you in the next foray, you simply crossed your arms and stared him down, forcing him by sheer will to see your point. Which was simply, no.

You stepped closer to his tent, listening for the telltale sign of rustling pages or even a hint of a glow behind the canvas flaps. Nothing. He knew this would be a long day and told you to wake him when you returned, but still you hesitated. He was already a night-owl and if even he was in bed at this hour it must truly be later than you thought.

With a sigh, you turned on your heel and headed to your own tent, stepping within and quickly shedding your armor until only your tunic and leather pants remained. You looked down to your own bedroll. Sleep would be best. It would be so nice and easy to fall into slumber. It would also be wise, considering the arduous journey that lay ahead. But before those thoughts of sleep could truly take hold, you felt a coil in your stomach.

Your adrenaline was still up from the days events. Sleep wasn’t yet ready to steal you away as something deeper took hold. What was that Gale said one time about a brush with danger? How it left one seeking other forms of stimulation? A smile at his brash, unexpected (at the time) flirting grew across your face as the coil bloomed into a full blown heat, sinking deep and low into your gut.

Without even fully knowing your own intent you abandoned your tent and headed back for his, heart already racing. You paused briefly at the flap before slipping in quietly, being careful not to let too much light in.

Your eyes adjusted quickly, the sliver of light from outside allowing just enough illumination to see Gale dozing on his back, one arm draped off to the side as if reaching for something.

You knelt down beside him and gently eased your body next to his, leaning on his outstretched arm, and placed a soft careful kiss on his cheek, which was flush from sleep.

“Hmm….mylove….” He murmured sleepily and lolled his head slightly towards you.

Your heart thudded as you watched his chest rise and fall, his mouth slightly parted as sleep stole him back from you. This sweet, handsome, ambitious wizard. How far you had come together. What perils you still had to face together.

An ache in your chest you weren’t accustomed to made you suck a quiet breath in as you gazed down at him. Gods, how much you loved him. You didn’t think it was possible to love this way. This deep. So deep it was almost painful.

The ache slowly eased as you watched him, taking comfort in the fact that he was safe, here, now, with you, beneath your adoring gaze. In place of the ache, the deep hot burning in your core returned. You wanted to show him. You needed him to know how much you loved him. Your hand raised, ready to shake his shoulder and wake him, but that same heat from deep inside you made you pause.

You recalled his words from earlier that day.

“Wake me up when you get back, please? However you must.” He had said with that signature almost mischievous grin of his.

An idea took hold and you carefully raised yourself up instead and eased your body back away from him. His arm seemed to twitch in response, as if in search of the missing heat it had been given.

Biting away a smile you knelt down beside his hips instead, adjusting yourself slightly so you were almost laying perpendicular to him. In fact, if anyone else was up right now, they would see your feet peeking out the edge of his tent.

Ever so gently you traced your hand down the smooth velvet fabric that covered his chest, pausing to feel his deep steady breathing beneath your palm. As you reached the edge of his shirt you gently pulled it up and gave him a small kiss just above his navel. You actually half expected him to wake up at that and raised your head expecting to meet his soft loving eyes. But he continued to doze, breath steady and low.

Okay, lets see how far this will go, you mused. You planted a few more kisses. Each with a little more tongue, a little suck of flesh, until you reached the edge of his pants.

You lifted your head again, but his eyes remained blissfully shut.

Deftly and carefully undoing the laces on his pants you eased the front of them down a touch and reached in to give a few tender touches of his soft cock over his underwear. It twitched slightly, seemingly on its own at the contact, but Gale still seemed otherwise undisturbed. You stroked harder, easing your fingers as far as they could grip around the thin fabric and moving your hand up and down slightly.

Gale groaned softly and rolled his head to the side, a smile flickering on the edge of his lips before sleep seemed to take him away again and he stilled once more. I hope you are having a wonderful dream, my love, you thought and gently eased his cock, now almost half hard, out of his underwear.

Fully able to wrap your warm palm around him now you felt a shiver of excitement run through you as you eased your hand up and down, savoring the feeling of his hot silky skin. Your fist met stem and even as you raised your hand back up you could almost feel him getting harder beneath your palm.

“Mmmmmm….” A soft moan escaped his lips this time, still halfway between dream and reality. His chest started to heave, breathing becoming faster as the sensations pulled him from his slumber as you continued to lovingly stroke his length.

You grinned and squeezed a little harder, giving another long slow stroke and his hands clutched at the blanket below him. He was fully hard now, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hips even starting to writhe beneath your arms. Truly, it seemed his entire body had woken up but his eyes remained shut.

You let your hand lower once more, and holding him steady you leaned forward, wrapping your parted lips around his tip and dancing your tongue across it.

He let out a louder groan this time, and his hands reached to grasp at his shirt now.

“Shhhh…” You released your mouth for a moment to hiss at him.

“Gods, Tav...don’t stop.” He whispered, his voice still groggy and hoarse from sleep.

You smiled and leaned your head back down, sucking him in again, carefully swirling your tongue around his already dribbling tip before easing your head down further. His hands descended to tangle themselves in your hair; not even to guide your head, but just to touch part of you.

Raising your head up and down more swiftly you added your hand in, twisting it gently at his base as spit dribbled out the sides of your mouth and across your waiting moving fingers.

Gale was panting now, his chest heaving, hard, hot, quick breaths where moments before they were soft and sleepy. He opened his mouth as if to speak or maybe moan again, but caught himself and you heard him snap it shut and let out a groan through his clenched teeth.

His hips bucked up slightly, matching the rhythm of your hand and mouth and before long you felt him twitch against you, shudders wracking his body. You reached your free hand up, grabbing at his chest and he reached to twine his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand tightly, pushing your mouth down as far as it could go, wriggling your tongue along his length, trying to encourage him to give in.

He gave a last shuddering breath and released, hot spurts of his seed shooting into your mouth and down your awaiting throat. His hand gripped yours so hard it almost hurt as you swallowed every single drop of him. As his shuddering subsided and his breath started to return to normal you took a moment to lick him clean and gently tuck him back away before crawling back up to lay in his awaiting arm once more.

“You continue to amaze and astound me in every way possible.” He said sucking in another deep breath and releasing it slowly. You leaned forward to nuzzle into his neck and give him another few kisses.

“You told me to wake you up.” You mumble, feigning innocence. He pulls back a touch, meeting your eyes with a twinkle in his own before smothering you with a flurry of kisses, pulling you even closer. You push your body flush with his, finally letting sleep start to take hold, happy that he is happy, but wondering if he might be thinking of waking you up the same way.

[evermorecountsastherapy]

★ of literature and lingering contingence ★

pairing: Gale Dekarios (BG3) x fem!reader (unnamed, no use of y/n, second person)

tags/warnings: fluff, teasing, literary references, established relationship, post-canon, shameless smut (soooo much of it), soft dom gale, porn with plot, praise kink, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, oral sex, rough sex, love confessions, a lot of sappy stuff toward the end, explicit sexual content: MDNI please

word count: 12,400

a/n: recently was gripped by the most powerful wave of Gale brain rot that I have ever experienced and this absolute monstrosity emerged as a result. initially vaguely inspired by this fanart that has rerouted and taken over every single one of my functioning braincells (I don't know the artist, pls pls let me me know if you do! I owe them a life debt for creating that piece!) this was also inspired by the literary masterpiece Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë (let's just pretend it exists in 1492 DR, alright?) if requested, I will consider writing a second part to this story, seeing as I really enjoyed writing this. as a fair warning, this is about 85% filth and 15% sappy lovesick stuff so enter at your own risk!

★ AO3 link ★

✦ playlist link ✦

Enjoy!

image taken from Pinterest

Out of all the days in the week, Sundays had to be your favourite.

It was the one day where you never had any obligations or responsibilities to worry about, and you often found yourself with nothing to do but relax. 

It wasn't, however, this lack of routine that you loved so much but rather the fact that Gale's schedule followed a very similar pattern as yours, leaving nothing for both of you to do but spend the entire day in each other's company. After the perilous, action-packed journey you'd both come back from a mere few months ago, you were both more than happy to catch up on quality down time together.

And this Sunday had turned out to be no different. You'd been tucked away together in his tower all day, watching as the bright sun rose early that morning through the crack in the balcony's drapes, your bodies tangled both together and in the soft sheets. Later on that afternoon, you'd watched it set again from where you were nestled together on his worn antique couch, his head using your lower stomach as a pillow and his body encased between your legs beneath the blanket he had thrown over the both of you, a worn copy of Jane Eyre open in his hands. 

A few weeks prior, the two of you had been discussing your favourite books over dinner (as was a popular topic of discussion wherever you and him were involved) and at one point, you'd casually quoted that very same literary work. This earned you a puzzled look from Gale, his brow quirking in a way you realized he genuinely didn't catch your reference. You were equally surprised by this revelation; until then, you had yet to mention a book that Gale hadn't already read and meticulously analyzed. 

This was a definitely a first. 

The thought made you somewhat giddy, already planning to be up at the crack of dawn the next morning to grab your equally well-loved and annotated copy from your place on the other side of Waterdeep. You were in the process of selling your old apartment, seeing as you had moved in with Gale after the War and spent the majority of your time outside of work with him at his tower. It would be a good opportunity to bring a few more of your things over to his place, as you had been doing over these last few months.

So that was exactly what you did. Every night from then on, after Gale had finished grading papers for the students he taught at Blackstaff and you'd cleaned yourself up after a long day at the House of Healing, the two of you would curl up on the living room couch next to the blazing mantle and read the story of Jane Eyre together. The idea that his initial reading should be a group activity and that he would be the narrator of the story was entirely his idea, and one that you'd found hard to refuse. You did love the sound of his voice, so listening to it perpetually for hours was only an added bonus.

This was precisely where you found yourself now, once again curled up on his couch watching as dusk fell and lingered on the corners of the room, the addition of flickering candlelight creating the coziest atmosphere in the little space. Head nestled in the space between your lower abdomen and pubic bone, your lover's voice read the words off the pages in front of him with a hushed enthusiasm that made you think he would be wonderful as a children's storyteller. You would have to mention that to him later.

"...still he looked preciously grim, cushioning his massive head against the swelling back of his chair, and receiving the light of the fire on his granite-hewn features, and in his great, dark eyes; for he had great, dark eyes, and very fine eyes, too—not without a certain change in their depths sometimes, which, if it was not softness, reminded you, at least, of that feeling. He had been looking two minutes at the fire, and I had been looking the same length of time at him, when, turning suddenly, he caught my gaze fastened on his physiognomy." Gale read aloud, his voice hypnotically rhythmic. 

Each word he spoke reverberated on to your stomach, sending gentle, electrical pulses all throughout your body. The feeling was enough to warm you a little more with each passing minute, a familiar yet patient desire beginning to grow inside of you. Your fingers began to lightly play with his loose locks in an attempt to distract you from your growing arousal, his hair so gently manipulated you doubted he could even feel your ministrations.

"'You examine me, Miss Eyre,' said he: 'do you think me handsome?'"

You smiled as you immediately recognized this as one of your favourite parts in the book, your hands idly starting to braid a small section of his hair to mask your excitement. By the way the pitch of his voice had changed ever so slightly, you were inclined to think Gale was genuinely interested in where the dialogue in the story might go from here.

"I should, if I had deliberated, have replied to this question by something conventionally vague and polite; but the answer somehow slipped from my tongue before I was aware—'No, sir.'"

Gale let out a hearty chuckle as he read the last dialogue tag, resting the book face down for a moment on his lap to peer up at you. 

"This girl reminds me of someone I know, actually," he said with a grin.

This earned him a quiet laugh back, only briefly pausing your braiding to look at his smiling face. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?" You asked playfully, your minding immediately thinking of your mutual friend, Shadowheart. 

"You, my love," he answered, his grin now taking on a more mischievous air to it that rendered your lungs temporarily useless as your heart skipped a beat, the feeling leaving you a little light-headed. With how much his smile grew after your reaction, you were sure he had a fairly good idea of how he was affecting you. 

"Keep going!" You laughed before the blush in your cheeks could grow anymore, setting him back on track with a light tap of your free hand against his stubbled cheek. Looking pleased with himself, he picked the book back up and continued reading.

"'Ah! By my word! there is something singular about you,' said he: 'you have the air of a little nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the carpet (except, by-the-bye, when they are directed piercingly to my face; as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or makes a remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, which, if not blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?'" He finished reading the last line with a sigh, lowering the book slightly to look up at you once again. 

"I'd say he's definitely into her, wouldn't you agree?" He conjectured aloud. 

You smiled, happy to see his engagement in the story you loved so dearly. "Uh-huh," you agreed, focusing your concentration on finishing the little braid in his hair.

"What is it that you're so busy with up there, hm?" He asked, reaching his hand up to touch the braid you'd just completed. A smile spread back across his lips as he realized what you'd done with his hair. "Oh, that feels like it looks lovely. Thank you, dear."

He reached over to set the book onto the coffee table, pushing the empty mugs the two of you had been sipping warm tea from earlier aside to make room for it. With a small, barely audible sigh, he sat up between your legs and twisted his torso to face you, his hand resting just beside your outer thigh to support his body weight.

"I might make this to be part of the signature look. What do you think? I'll admit I feel considerably more handsome with it." He said, caressing the braid with one hand, his big eyes boring into yours with a lingering glint of mischief. "Do you think me handsome, young lady?"

Every functioning braincell in your body screamed "yes!" at the question he posed to you, especially seeing as you had let him know how attractive you found him on more than one occasion that week alone. If he hadn't quoted Mr. Rochester so eloquently, you might have been inclined to answer in this same way. Something mischievous, however, bubbled up inside you when he said it, your curiosity wanting to see what might become of teasing him ever so slightly.

"No, sir," you answered, a slight quirk in your lips. 

His eyes seemed to grow darker almost instantly, a smirk forming as a product of your quip. For what it was worth, you assumed the borrowed line would earn you little more than a hearty laugh and an incentive for him to continue reading. Your emphasis on the title (one you had never taken to calling him before) looked to have stirred something more than innocent amusement inside of him and you briefly wondered if calling him that was the best decision on your part.

You did need your legs to work come tomorrow, after all.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine, your mind giving you flashbacks of that time on the road with the party when you'd decided to tease him a little too thoroughly. The result? Yours and Gale's night of passion had become so intense that you had no choice but to stay back at camp the next day, every muscle in your body sore and aching. Gale had stayed back with you, ever the gentleman, doting on you and almost ridiculously apologetic for the adventure you'd be missing out on that day because of him. As sorry as he was, however, it didn't stop him from fucking you senseless against a tree in the forest a short distance from the camp when you'd begged him. Against your better judgement, you'd teased him like that on more than one occasion since you'd been back from your travels together and each end result turned out to be better (or worse) than the last, if that was even possible.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly moved closer toward you, walking his hands forward along the cushion underneath of you, the insides of his wrists just barely brushing the sides of your torso. Your breath caught in your chest as he hovered over you, dark eyes staring back into yours like a starved predator that had just found its next meal. 

"No?" He breathed, his face mere inches away from yours. Candlelight flickered off his sharp features, the sight momentarily mesmerizing you and causing you to shift your gaze away from his intense eyes and onto his rosy lips, delicate and soft looking compared to his somewhat rugged features. He noticed this shift in your attention almost immediately, bringing his index finger up under your chin to gently guide your gaze back toward him.

"Say it again." He commanded, voice stern. 

A familiar dizzying feeling that originated in your stomach came over as you processed his words. It left you a little breathless once again, your senses now properly heady with growing desire. 

"No, I don't think you handsome." You near-whispered back to him, his lips so close to yours now that they were almost touching, causing your eyelids to droop slightly with desire. "Sir."

His head dropped painstakingly closer at your confession, the space between your mouths so miniscule it would've only taken you to flinch to touch your lips to his. His warm breath mixed with yours and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to wrap your arms around his neck and properly smother him. But at the same time, you also wanted to know what game he was playing at, genuinely curious to see where this might lead. You were the one who had started it, after all.

Slowly, he lowered his lips to yours, only giving you the faintest whisper of a kiss before you felt a smile grow on his lips and he whispered against your mouth, "And I think you're a liar."

The words reacted with your body in a way that threatened to prove him right, that warm feeling pooling in your lower abdomen turning a temperature not far off from molten lava. Gale must have easily picked up on this from the way he let out a breathy little laugh into the corner of your mouth, his neatly stubbled chin brushing against yours slightly. 

"And you know how I feel about liars, don't you, love?" He teased in that voice usually saved for his classroom at Blackstaff, his mouth moving to place delicate kisses along your cheek and slowly working his way down, his head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck. Your hands finally betrayed you, your arms snaking their way around the sides of his head, your fingers threading themselves through his soft hair in an attempt to keep him in that position. 

His affections moved lower down your neck and into the space just below your clavicle, his one hand moving to fiddle with the little buttons that held closed one of the old button up shirts of his you'd thrown on earlier that morning. It was your usual Sunday attire, the length of it long enough to rest just above your knees, the need to wear pants with it futile when it would just be the two of you for the day. That and you knew how crazy it drove him to see you in nothing but one of his shirts and a thin pair of underwear. 

Freeing the first button, he brough his mouth back down to your skin as he worked on the next ones. "Not only do they need to be punished for their miscreant behaviors, but that behavior also needs to be rectified if there is any hope of them recovering from their impropriety." He said somewhat breathlessly against your chest, the sound vibrating throughout your entire body.

No sooner did the final button on your shirt give way was the thin material being yanked open by eager hands, the slight chill that lingered in the tower causing your bare nipples to perk. Gale pulled away slightly to rake his eyes over your partially exposed body, his gaze like a comforting caress you'd come to know so well and long for so often.

He whispered something under his breath that sounded much like 'Gods...' before shifting back down to press his warm mouth to the space between your breasts. The feeling was like no other. It was magical; he was magical, with or without the power of the Weave. 

His soft lips drifted over your breast to land on your nipple, kissing it softly while looking up to meet your eyes, asking for permission. You sucked in a short breath and managed to nod ever so slightly, too focused on what he was doing to be able to think clearly. Slowly, his wet tongue met with your sensitive nipple, the sensation of that mixed with the suction his mouth had created driving you wild. Against your own volition, your back arched upward into him as if you were nothing more than a marionette whose strings were tied to his practiced fingertips, every movement your body made just an extension of his careful manipulation of your desire. You didn't particularly mind; Gale was one of the only guys you'd ever met who had taken so much time to learn in great detail the ways in which to make you feel good. It was something you never thought you'd come to have in life, though now that you had it, you knew you would never be able to settle for anything less.

A pathetic-sounding whimper escaped past your lips as his tongue swirled around your nipple for a final time before alternating to your other breast. You could feel how his breathing had increased since he had started his form of worship on your body, his exhales fanning out in little pants of warm air over your breast. It was almost too much to bear. 

Before you could open your mouth to demand he just take you already, his mouth detached itself from your breast to trail intermittent kisses down your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours.  You felt your heart skip a beat as he passed over your navel, his fingers coming to rest at the waistband of your underwear. 

"Shall we continue?" He asked with his chin hovering just above your pubic bone, a certain hunger palpable in his aura. "Or will I need to find other ways to change my pretty little liar's mind?"

You managed a desperate nod and when he didn't make any move to continue, a strangled, "Yes, please."

Your words seemed to appease him and with a swift motion, your underwear was down your legs and being slipped off your ankles, falling to the floor along with the blanket the two of you had been covered up with earlier. He snaked his arms under your knees, pushing them up gently and guiding your feet over his shoulders so that you were fully exposed to him. You felt your heart rate spike a little when his hands came to rub along your outer thighs and hips reverently, placing little kisses along your inner thighs and inching closer and closer to the apex of them. 

A breathless gasp escaped you as you watched him place a firm kiss to the center of your clit, the sudden sensation making you squirm in his grasp. A quick, victorious smile spread across his lips at your reaction and you had the sudden premonition that you were really about to be in for it.

Opening his mouth slightly, he placed that 'practiced' tongue of his flat against that little bundle of nerves before curling it wickedly to swirl the bud around in a way that made your head spin. The sensation itself was almost too much to bear, though in the same breath, you prayed to any god you could think of just to beg that he would never stop. 

As if he could read your mind, his mouth moved further down your slit to lap at the pooling wetness that gathered farther down. A low moan escaped your chest at the sight and you felt him smile again in response, his eyelids fluttering slightly to look at you through thick lashes. 

"How's the view, my dear?" He asked teasingly, pulling away from your heat slightly to give you a good look at the thick layer of your juices that glistened on and around his lips, showcasing the sinful mess like some kind of artwork. "Changed your mind yet?"

You contemplated this for a second while frantically trying to catch your breath, the way he was looking at you from between your dampened thighs making this a near impossible task itself. As much as you wanted to admit how you loved the way he looked from your current perspective, you loved toying with his ego just as much. It was simply too much fun, not to mention exceptionally rewarding (sexually and otherwise) for you more often than not. 

"I- I'd like to see the full extent of your talents before... coming to a decision." Throwing what you hoped was a seductive smile his way, you added, "If you'd be willing to indulge me, that is."

This earned you one of his heart-stopping smirks, that sparkle in his eyes a telltale sign of both his amusement and arousal. "Oh, finally found your words, have you? If you insist, my little minx." He retorted, voice suddenly dropping down to that husky octave he knew drove you wild. "I'd be my pleasure."

Yep, you definitely were not going to be walk out of this one on functional legs. That much you were now certain about.

His eyes still locked with yours, he sank his face down between your legs once again, his tongue moving to press against your entrance this time while his nose nestled itself against your clit. The feeling set off an intense fluttering sensation in your stomach and you had to fight the sudden urge to buck against him. 

Without warning, his hands curled themselves around the back of your thighs and gripped your hips firmly, pulling you up to meet his face at an even more flush angle. With the better access granted to him from your new position, he started lapping away at your pussy with such fervor you couldn't help the desperate whimpers you tried to supress from escaping the back of your throat. He continued to work his tongue up and down your delicate folds, occasionally breaking rhythm to push his tongue into your tight pussy teasingly.

The way he was working your sex felt nothing short of heavenly, a juxtaposition to the absolutely sinful noises coming from both his mouth and intense suckling. His eyes closed at some point in the process, his brow furrowed in deep concentration and - from what you could see in the dim candlelight - a light blush beginning to creep into his cheeks, staining them an adorably rosy pink. The sight itself was nearly enough to send you over the edge. He truly was beautiful.  

Your pleasure took on new heights when his thumb crept along your hip to land on your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make you squirm uncontrollably. Your hand moved instinctively to clutch the top of his head, your fingers finding purchase in his smooth tresses in yet another desperate attempt to keep him right where he was. The added stimulation was almost too much, and you felt that familiar string of desire grow taught behind your navel with every swipe of his tongue. Gale, sensing the fast-approaching crest of your orgasm, took this as motivation to increase the intensity of his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your wet cunt like a man starved. Your chest heaved to a point you were certain you couldn't take anymore, a few sections of your loose hair sticking to and curling around your neck a little more each time you tossed your head from side to side on the plush pillow your neck rested on.  The change in pace caused the cross between a whimper and a moan to escape from the back of your throat and your grip on his hair grew impossibly tighter. 

"Mmm... that's it, darling. Let me hear that pretty voice of yours. You're doing so good for me, so good..." he breathed against your pussy, his warm breath on your sensitive parts only adding to the sweet torture. His eyes flitted open, locking directly onto yours while his thumb - ever persistent - continued it's own form of artistry on your clit. "Now, come for me."

His words were enough to finally push you over the edge, your climax surging through your body in wave of pure ecstasy. A desperate moan erupted from within you as your hips bucked into his face, your voice ringing out suddenly in the space around you. A low, guttural sound released itself from deep within his chest and reverberated deliciously off your pussy as he ate you through completion. The feeling was utterly intoxicating, and you were certain nothing you had ever experienced up until that point felt nearly as good as this.

"Good girl, falling apart so beautifully for me," he praised as he softly lowered your trembling hips back down to meet the couch cushion after giving your clit one last kiss and pulling away slightly. His chest heaved with exertion as he licked his lips with a lascivious smile. "Might I dare ask for the verdict? Or is it too soon?"

Your hands moved to brush away a few loose strands of hair from where they fell in front of his eyes, your palm resting on his stubbled cheek. Taking quiet notice of the way his ends of his hair had started to curl slightly from your mixed perspirations, you realized you felt about as flush as he looked though you had no intentions of leaving the extent of your fun at that for the night. A blissful post-orgasmic haze washed over you and you felt that you were all but glowing with how much love you harbored for him in that particular moment.

"You've never looked so beautiful as you do now," you answered, trying to catch your breath. "How is it that you're my man?"

He smiled, a rare and bashful boyish kind that only emerged as a result of any praise you gave him. Over time, you'd found this to be a reaction only you could stir from him, whether it was in relation to his beautifully bright mind and the extensive knowledge he kept within it or his considerable talent both in and out of the bedroom. Either way, you always loved seeing the way your words could affect him. After all, you'd just experienced (yet again) how much a few words from him could affect you. It only seemed fair. 

Speaking of fair, you were reminded of how much you suddenly longed to even the scoreboard between the two of you and at least attempt to show him an equal act of reciprocity as he came over you again, the noticeable bulge in his trousers brushing briefly against your thigh as he brought himself to hover over you. The feeling intensified as he brought his lips down to meet yours once again, the lingering taste of yourself on his tongue driving you even more wild. 

"I am yours, body and soul," he whispered between kisses. "And you, my dear, are all mine." 

His tongue tangled with yours with a way that moved from sweet and gentle to hungry and primal, as if he was trying to further prove his point by claiming you with his mouth. The intensity of it was enough to stoke the fire in your core again, the thought of him laying claim to you in such a way intercepting any coherent though from forming in your head. You nearly forgot about your improvised plan as his hands roved their way up your sides and kneaded your breasts in a way you knew he wasn't finished wringing pleasure from you and showing you the ways in which you were his. Appealing as it was to you, the thought of how he would look writhing under you as you drew out wave after wave of pleasure from him was really what set your loins alight.

"There is another angle that I'd like to test out, however," you managed to breathe out against his fervent kisses, causing him to slow ever so slightly in interest.

He raised an eyebrow, a curious look glimmering in his eye. "Is that so?"

You nodded.

"And what might that be?" He asked.

You dragged your hands along his torso just as he had done to you, goosebumps rising in their wake. "Let me show you," you whispered against his lips.

His lips met with your again as you began to sit up from where you lay on the couch, placing a gentle hand to his chest as you pushed him onto his back and your other hand moved a pillow under his head, careful to never break your kiss in the process. You felt his breath hitch as you fumbled with the buttons on his long cardigan, his hands coming up to weave themselves in your hair. The thought of pleasing him so easily made your heart soar; you wanted to nothing more than to make him feel as good as he had made you feel and it made you indescribably happy to know you were already on your way there. 

Little time elapsed between the point where you finished undoing the last button on his sweater and when it was being shrugged down and off his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor beside the couch. You finally broke your intense kiss to move slightly back and take in the view of his bare chest before you.

The sight of him never failed to take your breath away; his broad shoulders and defined muscles looking like they were carefully crafted by the hands of the gods themselves, the flickering candlelight highlighting the depth of his considerable pectoral muscles and the swirls of dark hair that ran along them and down his chest. You couldn't help but follow the little trail from where it was thickest across his sternum down to where it thinned out slightly over his abdominal muscles and then grew denser where his trousers rested. The thought of what lies beneath them made your core clench around nothing, your need to pleasure him growing with each passing minute.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest quicken as you laid your hands on his stomach gently, moving them up slowly toward his pectorals in exploration as you lowered your head to burrow into his neck. His hands took hold of your torso to bring it flush against his as you alternated between placing delicate kisses on his neck and gently nipping at it, moving into that spot just below his right ear you knew made him particularly responsive. Sure enough, a low groan escaped him as your lips met his skin there, his hands tightening their grip on you. You smiled before jutting your tongue out to press it against his warm neck and then sealing it by pressing a kiss over it once more. 

This seemed to stir something entirely new and hungry in him, his hands now desperately seeking purchase on the sides of your head and bringing your lips up to meet his once again. He let out another groan as he devoured you, your mouths moving in a frantic tandem against each other in an intense dance of tongues and lips. You wanted it to last forever.

Pulling away slightly for air, you watched as a small string of saliva connected your bottom lips. The sight of it made you feel weak with desire, suddenly picturing what that same string of spittle might look on other certain parts of him. From the way he was eyeing your lip in return, you guessed the sight ignited something similar in him.

"You torture me, wicked girl" he rasped.

"Oh, sweet thing," you smiled innocently, "we're only getting started."

You saw his eyes widen ever so slightly at your insinuation and you felt a sense of pride in your choice of words. It wasn't easy to leave Gale Dekarios speechless, though you'd just done it singlehandedly.

Lowering your lips back to down to meet his chest, you heard him sharply inhale above you as you placed gentle kisses down his sternum and through the trail of hair that grew there. His scent filled your nostrils: a mix of the sweet-smelling body wash he used, the musk that rubbed off the ancient leather-bound books he always had his nose stuck in, and a tinge of sweat that had accumulated over the course of the day. It had to be one of your favourite scents, so familiar to you by now that it had, at some point, started to smell like home to you. You relaxed at the thought, any lingering anxiety you harbored and carried with you up until that point melting away into nothingness.

Your kisses trailed lower down his stomach as you dragged your fingernails lightly along his chest as you went, his breaths increasing a little more the closer you got to the waistband of his loose-fitting trousers. When you could travel down no farther, you moved your hands to rest on top of his hips, gently massaging the muscles underneath and looking back up to meet his eyes once again.

You knew this type of intercourse - one where he was the one on the receiving end, rather than the other way around - was a sensitive area for him. For years, he'd become accustomed to sexual experiences that only served to satisfy the other party: his goddess. Gale was nothing if not a generous lover and as much as you believed him when he told how arousing he found going down on you, the thought of him not receiving the same amount of care and devotion he gave to his goddess - to you - simply didn't sit right with you.

Mystra had him smitten from a young age, using her celestial power to always extract exactly what she wanted from him. The thought made you sick on the best of days, and what was even worse was how Gale had stood completely oblivious to her toxic manipulation of him until you entered his life not even a year ago. To heal from the damage that she'd inflicted over such a considerably long time was no small feat for him, though it was a battle you refused to let him fight alone in. You were in it together, no matter how rough the road ahead got at times. And oh, could it get rough. 

You recalled one of the nights you'd spent together early on in your relationship when you'd begun to explore each other's bodies more freely. What started as an innocent make out session in his tent quickly turned heated and desperate, the thrill of the newfound lust sizzling between the two of you giving you the confidence to attempt to try something new. You'd accumulated a certain amount of guilt over the previous few nights from how he would spend literal hours pleasuring you in ways you hadn't dreamed possible up until that point and then proceed to tuck both of you into bed when he sensed you were well and truly spent for the time being, not giving you the chance to even attempt to return the favor.

On this particular night, however, you'd managed to beat him to the chase. All was well until you'd shimmied his night pants down his legs and took hold of his cock, stroking it in a way you hoped felt at least alright to him. His muscles tensed at your touch and his face contorted slightly, raising himself up suddenly on his elbows in alarm. 

"W-What are you doing, love? I thought..." he asked, his sudden concerning behavior instantly causing you to believe you'd done something wrong. It was your first time having done such things to a man before, and the confidence you felt in your abilities was already scarce and dwindling to start off with.

You instantly pulled back, taking your hands off his body and shoving them under your arms as if you'd been burned as your heart began to hammer in your chest. "Oh gods, I'm sorry, Gale. I- I can't believe I... I’m really sorry, I've never done this before and I was... just... just trying to make you feel good too, as you've done for me all these nights. It just seemed... fair to me." You rambled as your voice began to quiver, desperately fighting back the sudden onslaught of tears that threatened to prickle through and overflow so easily. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him and ruin this beautiful thing you'd built together.

The look on his face at your confession was equal parts remorseful and understanding. "Oh love, no. You are doing wonderfully. I'm the one at fault here and I apologize, I regret not wording that question better. I just... well, these are new sensations to me, you see. I am uh... somewhat unexperienced in this area as well." He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks reddening slightly from what you assumed was both his own confession and how his body was currently fully exposed. You reached over to retrieve one of his blankets and drape it over him gently, hoping it would help him to feel less self conscious. 

Realization hit you like an early morning light as you smoothed the blanket down. "Have you ever had...?" You asked quietly. To think Gale - your sweet, precious Gale who could give head intense enough to cause you to nearly leave your body all together and was by far the most doting lover you'd ever known - had yet to experience a basic level of reciprocity from a lover at this point in his life was something you had a hard time wrapping your head around. If that was simply something thing he wasn't into, then that was completely understandable in and of itself. But to never have had that offer given to him in the first place? What kind of relationship had he had with this goddess of his?

"Would you laugh if I said I hadn't?" He answered, his voice dropping down to the same octave as yours.

"Are you kidding? Of course not!" You reassured him, taking one of his hands to give it a firm squeeze of solidarity. "Though the question is... is this something you want? I would really love to give this to you, but only if you're comfortable with it."

His hand gave yours a squeeze back almost instantaneously, maneuvering the placement of his to thread his fingers in between yours. "I would love nothing more. Though I will warn you, the experience might not... last very long. Considering..." He said sheepishly, giving you a half smile and motioning to the tent that had been created between his legs when you placed the blanket over him.

"Gale Dekarios, you are an utter fool if you think I care even for a second about such things." You leaned over to kiss him once before returning to your original position between his legs, taking the blanket on his lap with you. 

Gale had been truthful in his confession, as always. He had come undone for you with little more than a bit of light teasing and a few strokes to his cock, your warm mouth wrapping around the tip to catch his spend in an attempt to please him further. It definitely seemed to work, the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him bringing him to literal tears. The reaction flattered you more than anything, though you were a little concerned about the true meaning of the tears that erupted from him so suddenly.

After gently redressing his lower half, putting out the lanterns in his tent, and pulling a blanket over the both of you, you settled beside him in bed for the night. He'd nuzzled his head into your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

And then he'd gently wept into your shoulder for the better part of an hour.

It was the most vulnerability he'd shown you until that point, and your heart broke to know he'd been carrying around that hurt within him for heaven knows how long. Despite it all, you felt a certain energy change in the tent that night, as if years worth of trauma had begun to lift itself off his shoulders. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't cried along with him when he started whispering how sorry he was; sorry that he was so weak and naive in the face of Mystra, sorry that he loved you so much and smothered you with his emotions like this, sorry that he was the one you decided to love. 

How he could ever believe such things to be true felt like someone driving a stake right through your heart and twisting the handle maliciously. Since the moment you made the decision to pull him out of that mysterious rune after you'd crashed on the Nautiloid, you'd felt nothing but pure, blossoming adoration for the man. With his flowery language and bad jokes, he emerged as a small but bright and persistent beacon of light in your otherwise bleak life and for that you were forever grateful. When he told you the story behind his need for magical artifacts and of what Mystra had done to him - how she'd used him for so many years and then simply tossed him aside at the drop of a hat - you'd struggled to fight back tears the entire time he talked, his face alarmingly calm and passive as he spoke of his mistreatment. His words replayed themselves in your mind as you tried to fall asleep each night from then on, utterly and thoroughly disgusted with the woman this sweet wizard worshipped and even more furious at the fact that she'd done such a good job of pulling the wool over his eyes for so long. And then came the night when dear old Elminster barged his way into your camp to deliver Gale his death sentence, handed down by none other than the conniving goddess herself. His emotions had been intense that night, though you could hardly call your moment in the meadow together "smothering". You loved him, even with all his strings attached. You loved him, and nothing could ever change that, not even death.

And so, this was exactly what you told him, your voice unwavering as you professed your conviction into the top of his head. His tears began to slow as he whispered over and over how much he loved you and how glad he was to have found you between jagged inhales. You echoed his sentiments and placed soft kisses to sporadic spots on his head, wishing there was a way to kiss all the hurt off of him. While massaging small circles into his bare back with your fingertips, you felt his breathing begin to slow and after a few minutes you knew he had fallen asleep in your arms.

Something between you had shifted that night, as if both of you had finally realized how much you needed each other. The rest was history from there.

How far you'd come in those few months to end up where you were now, lounging and making love to each other on his couch in Waterdeep. You could recall when the very idea of relaxing a random Sunday away on a couch seemed like a luxury, never mind being able to spend that day alongside the love of your life. There was a time when certain death loomed over your head so heavily it might as well have been set in stone, making the idea of dreaming up a future beyond a few weeks in advance feel laughable. Hells, Gale had even been given orders to sacrifice himself by his ex-goddess, hadn't he? Yet here you both were, against all odds. 

As you looked into his eyes from your position between his legs - a position so similar to the one you'd been in that night - you briefly entertained the idea of his mind drifting back to that very same memory you shared with him. You wondered if he too contemplated the unexpected turn your lives had taken you in and the mystery behind the lucky hand both of you had ultimately been dealt. Either way, you were contented to know that everything had turned out for the better.

"Tell me, baby," you whispered, your tone equal parts seductive and playful. "Is this what you want?" You slipped your index finger just under the waistband of his trousers and dragged it along his skin lightly, watching his reaction carefully. 

He sucked in a breath, his eyes growing dark once again. "Yes. Oh gods, yes." When you simply raised an eyebrow, he added a pained, "Please."

Satisfied, you undid the fastenings on his trousers and pulled them down his legs, throwing them in the general direction he'd thrown your underwear earlier. His cock sprang free from it's confines immediately, painfully erect from where it stood in front of your face. You looked back up at him once more, waiting for just one more sign of approval.

His hand squeezed the one that rested again on his hip in return, his other hand reaching down to cup your cheek gently. His fingers brushed against your jawline briefly before threading themselves through your hair and gathering it up and away from your face. You smiled at the endearing gesture (even if it was only to give him a better view of what you were doing) and placed your hand around the base of his cock, marveling at its size. Gale truly was a work of art, inside and out. 

Slowly, you brought your hand up his shaft and rested your thumb on his swollen tip, relaxing your hand to mold to his girth as you went. You saw him tilt his head up to the ceiling in your periphery, his other hand detaching itself from yours to tangle his fingers in your hair on the other side of your head. Any loose strands that had potential for getting in the way went with it, clearing the way for you to work your own kind of magic on him.

After stroking his length a few times, you lowered your lips to gently kiss the tip of his cock. His fingers in your hair tightened in response and you couldn't help but smile; how fast this man could fold from simple foreplay never failed to amaze you. Lifting slightly to lick your lips, you lowered back down onto his cock, this time slowly taking him into your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you took as much of him as you could before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking in that way you knew made him melt beneath you. 

"Oh - oh, fuck! Yes, just like that. Don't stop, please - don't..." he cried out above you, that usual eloquent vocabulary he was so predisposed to using now replaced by half-finished, non-sensical sentences.

You eagerly take his encouragement to continue and begin what starts as a slow bob along his length, your lips stretching around his girth as his cock stinks a little farther down your throat with each pass. Your pace gradually picks up, the little beads of saliva escaping your lips mixing with his milky precum, aiding your ability to glide along his length. As you do, you feel your tongue trace down one of his veins and his pulse began to hammer in your mouth. You'd never felt anything quite like it before, the sensation sending tangible pools of heat between your legs once again, your body and clit alike buzzing with arousal. 

Your hand drifts back to the base of his cock as you come up for air, his tip slipping from your mouth with a little pop that coaxed his eyes open again. He looked confused at the sudden loss of stimulation coming from your mouth and you tried telling yourself it was only to tease him along, not because your vision had become almost completely obscured by your watering eyes and you were in desperate need of a minute to catch your breath. Well, you thought, maybe it was a bit of both.

"Is it oh-" he started, interrupted by a clever flick of your wrist around his shaft. "Is it your intent t- to break me into a thousand pieces with your sweet torment?" His voice shook a great deal more than you presumed he intended for it to with each syllable that passed through his lips. "Because if it is... you've shattered me."

Smiling, you continued to pump his length torturously, moving to settle back down to where his balls lay to pepper wet kisses over the surface of them. "Perhaps..." you teased as he moaned again loudly, your explorative ministration clearly affecting him in the best of ways. "Besides ... your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still." 

Your quote's origin was lost on him, though the meaning of your words definitely was not. You looked forward to the day when the two of you would come across that very same line in the book you were reading, however long that might take you. 

"Waxing poetic as we're making love, are you now? If I didn't know any better, I might think my habits are starting to rub off on you."

You shot him a wicked smile before trailing your tongue up his length, already dripping with your combined fluids. When you reach the top, you take one last inhale through your nose before taking him in your mouth again, doing your best to concentrate on relaxing your throat as you take him in as far as you can manage. You feel the little patch of curls at his root brush against the tip of your nose as you hold yourself there, the fingers he had threaded in your hair pulling at your scalp painfully.

Although you sensed his release was fast approaching, he pulled your head off his cock forcefully with little warning. His sudden change in behavior confused you, though you knew from the wild look in his eye when he brought your head up to be in line with his that you had done nothing to upset him, but rather the opposite.

"Did you really think you'd get away with that, little minx?" He taunted, propping himself up on the hand that didn't have your hair in a death grip, leaning in to give you a sloppy, breathless kiss. When you gave no immediate answer, he yanked your hair back a little, causing you to gasp. "Hmm? What was that?"

The sudden dark edge he had taken on shifted something within you, the increasing amount of adrenaline now running through your body igniting you need for him in ways you didn't know were possible. You knew this game he aimed to play; he told you he once read how a little bit of danger - of fear - could heighten other senses simultaneously as a way of flirting before your relationship had taken flight. Of course, you had given it right back to him, much to his incredulity, though he had yet to demonstrate his knowledge of the subject with you up until that point. 

You shook your head weakly in response to his demanding question. When he merely raised an eyebrow, you managed to squeak out a pathetic, "No."

"No? 'No' what?" He asked again, shifting his bodyweight to sit up fully on his knees, his hand drifting to lazily stroke his cock beneath you. When he purposely dragged the tip along your stomach, you attempted to advert your eyes from his to look down. He was, unfortunately for you, already one step ahead of you and pulled your head back a little harder this time to force you to look at him over your nose. "Not yet, little mouse."

The new pet name had you feeling like you were practically coming apart at the seams and you barely managed a shaky inhale through your nose, all other senses completely and utterly overwhelmed. 

"No, I didn't think that," You panted, voice barely above a whisper. The pieces finally clicked into place in your head and you added, in the most innocent way possible, what he really wanted: a squeaky little, “Sir." 

If getting him to absolutely ravage you meant you were to be a helpless little mouse in his eyes, then you swore to fuck you were about to be the squeakiest little rodent in all of Faerûn.

"Turn around." Came his curt reply, letting go of your hair abruptly to allow you to move freely. You had no objection to his order, spinning around to sit obediently on your knees with your back to him. With hurried desperation, he helped you shrug the shirt you hadn't fully taken off before down your shoulders and onto the floor, wiggling back into him until his knees brushed the backside of yours, your shins abducted to rest along his outer thighs.

He wasted no time in rising on his knees, snaking his left arm around your hip to laying his hand flush against your lower abdomen while his right curled its way around your throat, tilting your head back slightly so you could glance over your shoulder at him. He had made sure to press his body as closely as he could against your backside in the process, his hardness pressed into the curve of your ass in a way that would've had you squirming if not for his firm grip on you. 

"Look at you, needy little thing. What do you say we try another form of stimulation, hmm? Perhaps one that involves me bending you over and fucking you completely senseless until your mind is shattered into a thousand little pieces, just as you had intended for me?" His left hand trails lower to the apex of your thighs as he speaks, the pad of his middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly. The sensation has you whimpering in frustration, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes from all his tortuous teasing. 

"Yes, please, yes," you beg, desperately grinding back into him with a force that had him panting in your ear along with you. 

Much to your dismay, he abruptly removed his adept finger from where it swirled idly around your clit, your body aching at the loss of such sweet stimulation. Before you could think much of it, however, his hand began manipulating his member, sliding it along your slick entrance and through your clenched thighs. It wasn't long before he was pressing the thick head of his cock into you, your back arching in response.

With what remained of his self-control, he gradually pushed into you, allowing you a few extra moments to adjust around his girth. Both of you let out a low groan of relief when he was finally fully seated inside you, his cock buried to the hilt. The feeling was nothing short of exquisite and you could feel your body already thrumming with pleasure.

Slowly, he started to thrust his hips up into yours, his warm sex burying deep within of you as his hand moved to grip your hip hard enough to leave bruises. The snap of hips gradually turned more forceful, and you could feel where the tip of him gently nudged at your cervix with each thrust. The sensation had you crying out, his loose grip on your throat suddenly growing firm. 

"You feel so good, you know that?" He praised in your ear, your hair falling in your face from the force he was pounding into you with. His statement was punctuated with a low moan that just about made you lose your mind, the sound of his skin slapping against yours only adding to the effect. You felt like a ragdoll in his grip, your legs now completely useless and the rest of your body not far off from being delightfully limp. 

As if sensing this weakness in you, he moved to gently hinge you forward so you could rest on your forearms, thoughtfully placing one of the thicker pillows under your stomach for support. You were instantly thankful for the short reprieve, especially when he lowered down to press his stomach into your back, his thrusts growing in intensity and desperation. Almost every part of his body was flush against yours as he fucked into you with abandon and you almost screamed aloud when his hand came to rest on your clit once more, massaging it in a way that nearly had your vision going black. It was no surprise to find your orgasm rapidly cresting once more, the buildup to it releasing frustrated tears from your eyes.

"That's it, my love, keep going. You're being such a good girl." He praised in your ear, using the hand he kept at your throat to turn your head to the side. Between his words and the speed at which he was suddenly strumming your clit at, you felt about ready to explode from the intensity of your pleasure. "I want you to come for me. Don't you dare hold back, I want to hear everything. I want to feel you."

It was the million sensations you felt crashing down on you all at once that finally tipped you over the edge, writhing beneath him helplessly as wave of earth-shattering euphoria washed over you. A synchronized moan released from both of you as you clenched around him, coaxing Gale to his own end. Driving into you one final time, you felt him spill himself as far inside you as he could manage, slumping against your back as you both fought to catch your breath. 

"That was... wow," you breathed after a moment of silence. "Who taught you how to fuck like that?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them. "Actually, never mind. I don't need to know that."

He laughed, kissing your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you for a final time. The feeling caused instant butterflies to take flight behind your navel, a contented little sigh leaving your chest. Despite both of you being truly and utterly spent for the rest of the night, his cock remained buried deep inside you, neither of you possessing the strength to peel apart from each other quite yet.

"Funny enough, a good portion of that came from that novel on your beside table you seem to like so much. The rest... well, I'm afraid that was all improvisation on my part, darling."

Your eyes widened at his words, instantly chiding yourself for leaving that book out in the open where his curious eyes would no doubt take a peek into it.

"You're kidding! Oh, please say you're messing with me!" You pleaded, somewhat horrified. You supposed you couldn't be too angry with him, though. The circumstances had turned out to be highly in your favor, after all. 

"Unfortunately, I'm not. Though I already presumed you to have an excellent taste in fiction, the scene where he makes love to her on the kitchen table was truly riveting, if I do say so myself." He teased, idly drawing squiggly little lines up your spine.

"I'm never living this one down, am I?" You asked with your face buried in palms, though you already suspected what the answer would be.

"Not as long as I'm around, sweetheart." He confirmed placing a firm kiss to the bony prominence in the back of your neck. "I love you, so, so very much." He confessed into your shoulder, the sincerity in his voice stealing the air from your lungs once again. 

Just as you were about to echo the endearment, you eye caught on a colourful flash of something in your shared room across the hall. Raising your head up to squint in the mysterious object's direction, you quickly realized it was the dress you'd pulled out to wear tonight. To Morena's birthday dinner. With Gale. Tonight. 

You whipped your head around to look at the clock on the wall, panic quickly setting in. 

5:47. 

Oh, this was about to be disastrous. 

"Gale! Your mother!" You exclaimed, pulling away from him abruptly. You felt his spend leak from you slightly as his now flaccid cock exited your pussy, eliciting a pained groan from him. 

"What does my mother have to do with this?" He gestured vaguely to your ravaged features, leaking sex and all.

"It's her birthday and she invited us over for supper, remember? We're about to be late!" You picked up the previously discarded blanket on the floor to wrap it around your naked body and scurried into the bedroom, your legs still a little weak and wobbly. 

"Surely she won't mind if we're a little tardy, dear." He protested from the couch, lying back into the cushions. 

It took you giving him a stern look and trotting back to physically drag him off the couch to get him to acquiesce to your warning. Just as you were about to turn back to getting yourself ready, you remembered how your previous conversation had been cut short.

Taking his hand in yours and looking up to meet his gaze, you said, "And you must know I love you, too. Beyond what words could ever describe."

A shy smile spread across his face, his eyes shimmering in the flickering candlelight. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a the softest of kisses to the back of it, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. You clutched the two ends of the blanket wrapped around you together desperately, as if it was your last piece of sanity rather than the only thing keeping you - against your better judgement - from climbing him like a tree right then and there.

"Of course I do, my love. But I enjoy hearing you tell me all the same." Time seemed to slow as you stood there together, the sight of his naked body before you making it difficult to think straight.

"C'mon, you tease. We've got..." You glanced at the clock again, your tone taking on a more playful edge, "...under 10 minutes to get out the door and you don't even have any clothes on."

"Maybe I would," he countered with a laugh, "if you hadn't stripped them off of me so eagerly."

"Don't act like you didn't do it to me first!" You laughed back, swatting at his chest and heading to the bathroom this time, waiting until the physical distance between you forced you to let go of his hand.

"I'm going for a shower," You announced as you walked away, looking over your shoulder at him when he remained suspiciously quiet. Sure enough, a smug grin had taken form on his face, and you knew what was going on in that pretty head of his almost immediately. "That wasn't an invitation, wizard!

Under the guise that you were too short on time, he had decided to treat your declaration as an invitation anyway, despite your initial protests. It was certainly a struggle cleaning the smell of sex off you in a few short minutes whilst also trying to keep his ever-wandering hands off you, but you'd managed just fine in the end.

The next few minutes passed in a flurry of frenzied last-minute preparations. Gale used a spell to instantly dry your hair to perfection, casting the same one on himself shortly after. You quickly rolled a pair of pantyhose up your legs before shimming into your new dress as he slotted a belt through the loopholes in his pants, his hair adorably ruffled.

To commemorate Morena's 65th birthday, you'd decided (with some reluctance) to splurge on a new dress for the occasion. It wasn't until you went dress shopping one afternoon a few weeks prior, however, that you realized how difficult it was to find a nice one that didn't cost you a whole month's wage. After an entire day of scouring what seemed like every store in Waterdeep to no avail, you'd nearly given up all hope of finding one.

That was, until you bumped into a familiar looking pale elf on the street after dusk.

He had greeted you with his signature, "Darling!" immediately after recognizing you, pulling you in for a friendly hug.

"What are you doing, roaming the streets at such an hour? That foolish wizard of yours hasn't lost his touch already, has he?" He asked, ever the gossip as he linked your arms together and near dragged you up the road with him with his ridiculous amount of enthusiasm. 

"It's nice to see you too, Astarion," you laughed, jogging a little to keep up with him. "I was out looking for a dress. Gale's mother's birthday is in a few weeks' time, and I have absolutely nothing to wear." 

"Oh dear. That is quite the problem indeed." He replied, a grave look on his face. "Though, one I might be obliged to help you with, if you so wish."

You surveyed his face for any signs of mockery but quickly came up short. "In exchange for..." 

He placed a hand to his chest, a gasping dramatically in mock offense. "I am hurt that you think so lowly of me, darling. What do you take me as? Some deceitful, thieving rogue?"

You laughed again, glad to be reunited with the deceitful, thieving rogue once more. "I am not letting you suck on my neck in exchange for making me a dress, Asty. Those days are long since over." 

He stuck out his bottom lip at you, pouting. "Not even a nibble? I can suck on your wrist instead, if that's the problem." He asked innocently and you had to swat him away playfully when he tried to take hold of your wrist. 

"I will pay you in gold, just as in any other regular trade agreement. Do we have a deal?" You stopped to look at him straight on, letting him know you were serious about this. 

He pretended to ponder your offer for a moment before coming to a conclusion. "100 gold, you keep me company for an afternoon back in Baldur's Gate and the most magnificent dress you have ever laid your pretty eyes upon will be delivered to you in no more than 10 days time." He reasoned with an air of finality. When you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly, he added, "And the wizard can come, too, I suppose. I quite miss his terrible jokes, if I'm being honest." He reached his hand out for you to shake. "Deal?"

Smiling, you gave his hand a firm shake. "Deal." You had been meaning to visit him more often anyway, so you were quite satisfied with his added condition to the deal.

He smiled back at you, pleased. "Wonderful. Let's get you measured up." 

After a good hour of wrapping a measuring tape around you in about a hundred different angles and coming up with a general design, you'd invited him to spend the night with you and Gale rather than pay for a room at the inn, an offer he agreed to readily. The two of you scurried arm in arm toward yours and Gale's abode, giggling your way through the now dark and winding streets, excited to see your what your lover's reaction might be when you walked through the door with a dear friend to both of you.

Apparently, Astarion had been in Waterdeep at the time to sort out some kind of business deal he had made with a local bard who hadn't kept up his end of the bargain. He only flashed you both a wicked grin when Gale had asked how he intended to handle the dispute before quickly changing the subject, causing you to chuckle softly into your glass of wine. That poor bard, you thought, though you supposed he had it coming if he was so dense as to cheat Astarion of all people over.

He was gone before either of you awoke the next morning, a note with the address to his place in Baldur's Gate scrawled on it in neat cursive and placed inside a beautiful vase of wildflowers on your kitchen table. Within the following week, a skillfully decorated box was delivered to your door from Baldur's Gate, a beautiful dress made just for you tucked inside.

The colour of it was a dark enough purple to almost be considered black, sleek and formed to hug your every curve perfectly. The length of it trailed down to brush no lower than your ankles, the material fanning out past your knees in a little skirt that allowed you to move your legs easier in it. He had added two-tiered layers of frilly hemming around the bottom of the skirt, the material a pearly, ivory white that shimmered ever so slightly in the light. He'd chosen simple heart-shaped neckline for the dress, using that same pearly material to create thin straps on either side for support, little white bows tied to where they met with the dress on either side. As you observed the way you looked with it on in the mirror, you were certain you wouldn't find a more perfect dress in all of the Sword Coast. 

Gale came over to you just as you were putting in your finest pair of heart-shaped silver earrings, your dress still unzipped in the back due to the impossible range of motion you'd have to possess to do it up yourself. He was already dressed up in a sharp looking suit you'd picked out with him a while back in Baldur's Gate, the purple of his suit jacket a similar shade of purple to your dress. Delicate-looking flowers embroidered in silver crawled up artfully alongside the silver clasps holding the jacket closed on each side, the pattern stopping at his shoulders where a sweeping cape was clasped into place. His pants were made of a smug-fitting, leathery material to match his high-collared undershirt, the few silver rings he adorned on each hand glinting slightly in the firelight. What you loved most of all about his outfit, however, was the charm that hung from his right ear: a simple sliver sword pointed downward with a heart driven through it. You'd gotten it for him a few weeks after you'd come home from your adventure, the earing he wore in honour of Mystra long since been discarded along the road to Baldur's Gate and immediately swapped for the new one. 

His hair seemed to be the only thing he had left to get ready, and you chuckled when he approached you with this comb and a hair tie. You both knew he was perfectly capable of doing it on his own, though he was thoroughly convinced it always looked better when you did it. Turning around and crouching down a little for you, you swept the top portion of his smooth hair up and back toward the back of his head, the strands of gray usually well-hidden by its rich brown colour now well apparent to you in the firelight. The sight of them only made you love him that much more, a gentle reminder of how very human he was. 

Tying off the loose bun, you fixed any fly-aways and adjusted its position to perfection, proud of your quick handiwork. 

"Zip me?" You asked him, turning around yourself as he turned back to face you.

He was more than happy to oblige, his finger gliding the zipper up your back at a much slower speed than necessary. When he reached the top, he leaned down to give your bare shoulder a quick kiss before whispering in your ear.

"Wait here." Was all he said to you before walking over to his bedside table and pulling a small box out of the drawer. As confused as you were in that moment, you obeyed his gentle order, only stealing a quick peek over your shoulder to satiate your curiosity. 

All you heard was the soft sound of him removing the box lid before his hands came around your head to drape something around your neck and close the clasp at the back with a barely perceptible clink, the little cold piece of metal resting an inch or so below the jugular notch between your clavicles. You held it between your fingers and looked down to find a singular sliver charm identical to the one hanging from his ear threaded through a delicate silver chain. The gesture made you start to tear up, turning back around to face him. 

"I wanted to wait to give it to you until your birthday, but you look so beautiful in that dress that I-" You cut off any remaining words in that sentence with a passionate kiss landing directly onto his unsuspecting lips, standing up on your toes and cradling both side of his face with your hands. He quickly deepened the kiss, his hands gripping your waist and gently pulling you into him. 

"Do you like it?" He asked when you both came up for air, his magnificent brown eyes searching yours for anything that might answer his question. You thought it was probably the stupidest question that you had ever heard come out of his mouth. You were still too tearful to tease him about it, so instead you indulged him.

"I love it, Gale. Just as I love you." You punctuated your sentiments with another soft, languid kiss to his lips. Pulling back after a few moments, you were reminded of a line you particularly adored from the novel you were reading together earlier. "All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.” You quoted to him, each word flowing from your lips with unwavering confidence.

He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes glassy and brimming with tears. "And every piece of my heart is yours, along with my soul, my body, and whatever else you'll have of me. It's yours, and it was always going to be yours, in the end."

You brushed a lock of hair from his eyes and took one of his hands in your other, stroking the back of it with your thumb reassuringly. "I think it's time to go, love." You reminded him gently.

He nodded, picking up the gift basket you'd made together for his mother. He looked to you again, his gaze soft.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Always," you answered, giving his hand a little squeeze. Your gaze remained unwaveringly focused on him, wanting to absorb this wholesome moment you'd shared as best as you possibly could, locking it away in your mind for safe keeping. 

If fate had been so generous to grant you this soft epilogue, then by the gods you were going to make sure every minute that brought you closer to the end was spent to its fullest, your lover's hand in yours.

~★~

Thank you for reading!

[writing-fanics]

my little star

Astarion x Reader

a/n: reader is gender neutral but mother/father is used I haven’t played the game and I don’t know much about DND first time I’ve ever written for Astarion.

Dhampir: Offspring of a vampire and a human

The stage was set with a fearless little girl standing before a terrifying beast. In her hand, she held a wooden stick, which was her only defense. Her eyes showed the determination within her. She lifted her chin as she glared at the creature and with all her might, she shouted, "Back, you foul beast!" The little girl pointed her stick at the creature, which let out a croak. The sound caught her off guard, causing her to jump slightly and lower the makeshift shield made of a piece of broken bark that she had been using for protection.

The creature was revealed to be a tiny frog. "I shall defeat you, beast!" she exclaimed, raising her weapon to attack. She let out a warrior's yell and was about to attack the frog when a voice interrupted her. "My little star, what on earth are you doing?" She turned around and smiled, dropping the stick. Running towards the figure with open arms, she exclaimed, "Daddy!" He scooped her up as she leaped into his arms.

“Your mother/father and I have been looking everywhere for you, little star.” Astarion said, and she frowned looking down.

She pouted and fiddled with her fingers. "I just wanted to go on an adventure, like the ones you and Mom/Dad used to have," she said sheepishly. He looked down and smiled.

Astarion and Tav had been in a loving relationship for years, and after settling down, they finally tied the knot. Their union was blessed with the birth of their daughter, Estel, who brought immense joy and happiness into their lives. Astarion had never really imagined himself having children, even though he was married to Tav. But when he saw their precious little bundle of joy, with her silvery white curls and a tiny nose, he was overwhelmed with emotion, and fell in love with Tav all over again. The sight of them holding their baby in their arms was a beautiful moment that he would cherish forever.

As he spoke to Estel, he reminisced about the adventures he had shared with Tav, his beloved. He often regaled his little one with tales of their perilous journey to eliminate the worms in their heads. He spoke of how his heart had been unexpectedly captured by Tav, despite his initial reluctance to fall in love. He also recounted how, despite his being a vampire spawn sanguine monster, Tav and their companions had stayed by his side and loved him unconditionally.d by his side and loved him anyway.

As she smiled at him, Astarion recounted tales of their adventures with the group, carefully editing out any inappropriate details for his daughter. She sat comfortably on his lap, awed by the beauty of nature and completely engrossed in her father's stories. In that moment, the frog that had once caught her attention was no longer on her mind, and Astarion had forgotten all about his initial search for his daughter to bring her back home for dinner.

Estel listened to her father telling the story to her as she did, she picked the flowers beside them in the field of flowers. Weaving them together to make a flower crown, Shadowheart showed her how to make it.

"What're you making little star?" Astarion asked curiously looking down at his daughter. She looked up at him and grinned revealing her abnormally sharp canine teeth. "It's a flower crown I made it for you." She said to him. He stared at the floral crown admiring it normally he wouldn't wear such a thing. But he couldn't help but smile while looking at it.

"Why? It seems you've inherited my sense for impeccable fashion." He said to Estel with a smile on his face. She smiled, watching as he placed it on his head. "How do I look?" He asked playfully puckering his lips. She giggled, "Amazing!" She exclaimed and he chuckled softly as he bopped his daughter on the nose. Her stomach grumbled and she looked up at her father, "Daddy?" She mumbled, and he looked down at her.

His smile faltered into that of nervousness as he remembered the reason he came out looking for his daughter, "It might've slipped my mind that your mother sent me out to fetch you, to let you know that dinner is done." He said nervously. "Oooh, your in trouble." She teased giggling, and he looked down at her.

"I'm not the only one that's in trouble." He grinned looking down at his daughter, "You aren't supposed to be this far from home." He continued and she glared at him, "Well, mommy told you to watch me." She said, grinning folding her arms across her chest. Smiling slyly, he scoffed rolling his eyes.

"And you two are supposed to be at home!" Tav shouted, appearing down the path from them. Your arms folded across your chest as you glared at your husband and child, "Mommy!" Estel exclaimed, running towards you and you wrapped your arms around her after scooping her up. Glancing over at Astarion giving him the look, 'We'll talk later'

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfiction ever, and I'm super excited to share it with all of you! I've always loved fanfictions that span across multiple parts because they give so much room for character development and suspense. As a massive One Piece fan, I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I will enjoy writing it!

For this series, we'll start off in the Pre-Time Skip era, specifically during the Sabaody Archipelago arc. Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

A/N: some parts may be changed to fit the story, but others will remain the same. For instance, instead of eleven supernovas it will be twelve. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Sanji x Y/N, OP x Y/N ,

Chapter 1: Desperate Measures: Saving a Friend 

  Having arrived at Sabaody Archipelago with your crew, along with Hatchan, Camie, and Pappag, the vibrant and bustling island immediately overwhelms your senses. The bright, multicolored bubbles floating through the air, the mix of strange and diverse people, and the looming presence of the massive mangrove trees create an atmosphere both wondrous and ominous. You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and unease—Sabaody is a place of both opportunity and danger.

  Luffy, your captain, couldn’t wait any longer to get off the ship and explore. With his usual boundless energy, he leaped from the Sunny, already imagining the adventures that awaited him on Sabaody Archipelago. You remember the day he first asked you to join his crew. It was after a particularly intense battle where your fighting skills had caught his eye. He admired your strength, your resilience, and the way you stood your ground even in the face of overwhelming odds. Luffy, always the one to follow his instincts, had approached you with that wide, infectious grin and simply said, “Join my crew!”

At first, you were taken aback by his straightforwardness, but there was something about Luffy—his unwavering belief in his dreams, his ability to inspire those around him, and the way he saw potential in everyone—that made you consider his offer. He didn’t just see you as a warrior; he saw you as someone who could help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. And so, after a moment of thought, you agreed, finding yourself swept up in the Straw Hats' chaotic yet oddly comforting world.

  As Luffy heads down with Chopper, Zoro, is scanning the area to see if there are any threats nearby. “Sense anything Zoro?” you say as you begin to step out of the sunny. “Zoro glances around, his eyes sharp and focused, before shaking his head slightly. "Not at the moment," he replies, keeping his voice low. “Hey Mosshead, back off of Y/N, she doesn’t need you clinging on to her,” Sanji snaps, stepping in between you and Zoro, his eyes narrowing at the swordsman.

Zoro glares back, “Who’s clinging, you curly-browed idiot? I’m just making sure there’s no trouble.”

Before the argument can escalate further, Nami steps in, her hands on her hips. “Enough, both of you. Sanji, you’ll stay behind to guard the treasure along with Usopp. Franky, you’re staying on the ship too—just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

Sanji’s expression immediately softens, his usual heart eyes appearing as he turns to Nami. “Of course, my love, anything for you!” he says with a dreamy sigh. Then, as if remembering his role as the lovesick cook, he pulls out a single rose, handing it to you with a flourish. “Y/N, keep this with you on your journey, so you won’t forget about me.”

You take the rose, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “How could I forget about you, Sanji? I’ll be sure to keep it close.”

Sanji’s heart skips a beat as you flirt back, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Though he’s always been bold with his affection, there’s something about the way you respond that makes his heart race a little faster. You’ve always admired Sanji’s charm and his relentless dedication to those he cares about, and in moments like this, it’s hard not to let your own small crush on him slip through.

  As you all disembark the ship, Hatchan begins to explain that he knows someone who can coat the ship for your journey to the next destination, Fishman Island. Camie and Pappag act as your guides, showing you around. Nami and Robin decide to head out for some shopping.

“You sure you don’t want to tag along?” Nami asks.

“Yeah, we could have our own mini girls’ day,” Robin adds with a smile.

Shaking your head with a smile, you reply, “No, that’s alright, you two go on ahead. I’ve got to make sure these guys”—you gesture towards the remaining group—“don’t wind up in too much trouble.”

“I’ll be sure to get you something!” Nami calls out as she and Robin head off to the stores.

“Well, Zoro, looks like you and I will be taking care of…”

“Zoro??”

“Damn, did he just leave?” You sigh and make your way back to your group.

 Meanwhile, back on the Sunny…

“Sanji, you gotta relax, buddy. Nami, Robin, Camie, and Y/N are safe and fine,” says Franky, trying to calm Sanji down.

Sanji exhales a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, his eyes still filled with concern. “Yeah, I know,” he mutters, “but I can’t help worrying about them. Especially Y/N… she’s always getting into trouble, and I can’t help but think I should be there to protect her.”

Franky gives him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re on guard duty here, remember? We’ve got to keep the ship safe.”

Sanji’s gaze softens as he looks at the rose he’s tucked away for Y/N. “I just wish I could be there with her… make sure she knows how much she means to me.”

“Don’t worry, Sanji,” Franky chuckles. “They’re in good hands with you watching over the ship. And besides, you’ve got your own way of showing you care. That rose will do wonders.”

Sanji nods, taking a deep breath and letting his worry slowly fade. “You’re right. I’ll keep an eye out and make sure the ship stays in one piece. Just hope she gets my message.”

He glances at the rose again, a small smile appearing on his face as he tries to refocus on his duties.

  Back in Sabaody… 

 After witnessing the cruelty of the nobles, a shiver ran down your spine as the unsettling images replayed in your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling of anger and disgust.

“Those bastards, no one should be treated like that,” Luffy says, his voice filled with rage. “I don’t care if you’re a noble or not.”

“It’s truly a horrifying sight to see,” Brooke agrees, his usual calm demeanor marred by the gravity of the situation. He and Chopper hurry to catch up with you and Luffy.

“Luffy, remember we promised Hatchan we’d lay low for a bit,” you remind him, trying to steady your own emotions. “As much as I want to strike back, we can’t risk it. We have to stay out of trouble for now.”

Just then, you’re ambushed by a group of bounty hunters who had been lying in wait. One of them, a scruffy man with a leering grin, points at you with wide eyes. “Hey! You’re Y/N, the one with the $115,000,000 Berry bounty. You’re one of the Supernovas!”

“Supernovas?, what are they talking about?” you say in a hushed tone. 

Before they can react, you draw your blades with swift precision. The air around you crackles with energy as you unleash a flurry of strikes, each move perfectly calculated to disarm and incapacitate your attackers. Your combat skills, honed through countless battles, shine as you take them down one by one.

Luffy watches in awe, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he sees you effortlessly dispatch the bounty hunters. “Nice work, Y/N!” he cheers.

Brooke and Chopper finally catch up, their eyes wide at the sight of the defeated hunters. “Looks like we’ve got some unwanted attention,” Brooke observes. “But impressive as always.”

Smiling as you sheathe your blades, your breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “We need to stay sharp. Let’s get moving before more of them show up.” 

  Finally, after a bit of traveling, they reach Grove 13 and a bar where the coating engineer is said to stay. Upon entering, they are greeted by Shakky, the bar’s owner. A former pirate and friend of Hatchan, Shakky introduces herself with a friendly smile.

"Nice to meet you all," Shakky says. "I've heard quite a bit about the Straw Hats.”

The group exchanges pleasantries before asking about the engineer, Rayleigh. Shakky informs them that Rayleigh hasn’t been seen for a while, though he hasn’t left the island. He’s been wandering the bars and casinos for the past six months.

"Well, if Rayleigh’s been missing for that long, we might have to search for him ourselves," Luffy says.

Shakky nods. “Be careful. Since your arrival, there are now twelve rookie pirates with bounties over 100,000,000 berri who’ve reached the Red Line. Luffy, you're second highest among them.”

As the group absorbs this, Shakky explains that most of the Supernovas are staying in Grove 24. She describes some of them: Capone "Gang" Bege, the mafia-type pirate with a bounty of 138,000,000 berri, Jewelry Bonney, with a bounty of 140,000,000 Berri, Basil Hawkins, known as "The Magician" with a 249,000,000 bounty. In another part of the grove, Eustass "Captain" Kid (315,000,000) and Scratchmen Apoo (198,000,000)

In Grove 21, "The Mad Monk" Urouge (108,000,000) and "Massacre Soldier" Killer (162,000,000) next is "Red Flag" X Drake (222,000,000), a former Marine Rear Admiral, and Trafalgar Law (200,000,000), the last of the rookies. Shakky hands you the wanted posters and you note with a small smile that you and Zoro are also among the Supernovas. You’re listed with a bounty of 115,000,000, and Zoro with 120,000,000. 

As you glance at the wanted posters of the Supernovas, you mutter with a playful grin, “Wow, Killer, Eustass Kidd, and Law… they’ve got something uniquely captivating about them. They look kind of cute.”

Brooke, catching your comment, bursts out with a cheerful, “Yoohoo! Looks like Sanji’s got some competition!”

You chuckle and tease, “Oh, definitely. Killer’s dangerous allure, Kidd’s raw intensity, and Law’s cool confidence—they each have a certain edge that’s hard to ignore.”

Leaning in closer, you let your voice drop with a sultry edge, “It’s not just their looks. There’s something about their vibe that’s a little… irresistible. Makes me wonder how they’d be in person.”

Brooke's jawbone clinks with his laughter. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. A little competition always spices things up, doesn’t it?”

You wink playfully. “Exactly. It’s all about the thrill of the chase. But for now, let’s see what these Supernovas are really like. Who knows, maybe they’ll be even more intriguing up close.”

Brooke’s grin remains, his eye sockets gleaming with amusement. “I’m sure they will be. But remember, Sanji’s keeping a close eye on you. Don’t let him get too worked up!”

You laugh, the mischief in your eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. A bit of competition never hurt anyone. It just makes everything more exciting.”

With that,the group heads out to find Rayleigh, the playful tension lingering in the air. 

   As the group sets out to find Rayleigh, Luffy suggests a visit to Sabaody Park to enjoy the day. Camie, brimming with excitement, eagerly tells you about the park’s significance and her past visits. You walk side by side with her, absorbing the vibrant atmosphere of the park and the joyful energy of the rides.

As you and Camie sit on a bench in Sabaody Park, catching your breath from the excitement of the rides, you both share a contented sigh.

"This place is amazing," Camie says with a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I wish I could have experienced it like this more often. It’s so much fun!"

You nod, enjoying the moment. “I’m glad we could have this day. It’s been a blast.”

Just as you’re about to take another bite of your snack, a shadow looms over you. Before you can react, someone covers your mouth with a cloth, and another pair of hands grabs Camie. You both struggle, but the suddenness of it leaves you disoriented.

Through the fabric muffling your cries, you hear Camie's muffled voice. “Mmmph! What’s happening? Let us go!”

You try to yell out, but the cloth over your mouth stifles your words. Panicking, you reach for Camie’s hand, and you feel her trembling. The sound of ropes tightening around your wrists and ankles is followed by the heavy thud of sacks being pulled over you.

You catch a glimpse of Camie’s frightened eyes as she is shoved into a sack next to you. Through the layers of fabric, you try to comfort her.

“It’s going to be okay, Camie,” you whisper as best as you can through the gag, though it comes out as a muffled sound. “We just need to stay calm.”

You can hear the muffled sounds of Camie’s sobs from the sack next to you. The kidnappers’ harsh voices are distant but clear enough to make out their cruel intentions.

One of them grumbles, “They’re going to make a fine addition to the auction. The buyers will love them.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. The realization of being taken to be auctioned as slaves hits hard, but you try to remain composed for Camie’s sake. You shift slightly in the sack, trying to offer some comfort with your presence despite the dire situation.

In the oppressive darkness and confined space, all you can do is hope that your crew will find you in time before it’s too late.

.

.

.

OMGGGG, what do you guys think??? This one was long! But it'll be all worth it! Next chapter is going to be a good one that you don't want to miss. Currently writing it as we speak! Welcome to my page and I can't wait for you guys to read what I have in store! 

[roseblog-rog]

Dog of War Changed My Life For the Better

Okay, I know a smut fic doing that sounds silly, but trust me this post is really important.

I wanna take a moment to talk about Mindcrank’s HDG fic Dog of War. Now I could go on and on about how well it’s written, how engaging the story is, how…hot it gets 😵‍💫…but that’s not what I’m here to do. No, I want to talk about the part that really helped me come to an important realization: Princess’ plurality.

//spoilers ahead for DoW up to the end of chapter 33

While not the center of the story, Princess’ plurality is an integral part of their character, being explored and explained throughout the fic. They were, as the fic has said, “two parts of one whole.” Now, to cut to the chase, the specific moment that woke me the fuck up was towards the end of chapter 31, where Princess and her other half “cut themselves in two.” The moment itself sent me into hysterics, prompting a full on panic attack and spiral. I was not only scared for Princess, actually having to contact a friend who had already read the whole thing to confirm her other half would come back, but also for myself.

Because you see, what made this moment so raw and powerful for me is that I too am plural. It’s a fairly recent realization, one that I am only just coming to terms with after reading this, but I did much of the same thing as Princess did. My alter, Skye, is the conglomeration and personification of years and years’ worth of repressed and stifled feelings. Emotions I hated having and experiencing, pushing them away in fears I would hurt someone. Being pushed down and getting cramped together for so long resulted in a fairly recent personification of these repressed emotions. It was terrifying, making it all the more likely I completely lose myself in the feelings, quite literally losing control of myself. Despite the personification, as well as the few times they fronted being almost completely non-harmful, I continued to push them away, down and down until I couldn’t feel their presence at all. I believed I hated them and everything they stood for, having intense trauma towards the feelings of anger and numbness that originally sparked Skye’s formation.

But when I read the moment where that same thing happens to Princess, seeing that split secondhand and not knowing if her other half would ever come back, I screamed out in pain. I realized I didn’t want to lose Skye, that we too were “two parts of one whole.“ I didn’t want to lose them, I don’t want to lose them. I was SCARED. When that breakdown ended, I finally realized that I couldn’t push my other half away anymore.

It will still be an arduous process of healing for the both of us, and it will definitely take a long time before they’re right up at the front with me, side by side, but it’s a start. And when Princess’ own other half came back, saying “we don't truly exist without both reflections, we can't be apart for long”, I couldn’t help but feel the same about myself. Or, I guess, my selves.

Long-winded ramble aside, I wanted to thank @magicalgirlmindcrank for not only producing an absolutely beautiful and incomprehensibly hot story, but also for helping me realize that I’ve been pushing my other half away for far too long. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.

And if anyone reading this is also plural, or going through a crisis of realization or something else of the sort, know that you are not alone. While the journey will be perilous, know that you too will find peace with your selves.

Thanks for listening, I really appreciate it.

[victoria-writes]

Elvish For Dummies

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Set after the events of LoTR. You live with Legolas in Mirkwood and he teaches you Elvish. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 1039

Notes: Established relationship, reader is human, tried to make the sindarin elvish as accurate as possible so apologies for any mistakes, I’m multilingual so I based this off of my own experience with learning languages 

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

Despite the fellowship having disbanded, each day with Legolas seemed like another adventure. During your perilous journey together, the two of you had grown closer than either of you thought possible. The mere thought of being apart from you pulled at his heartstrings. He could not bear the thought of being separated from his new love. After the one ring was destroyed, the elf invited you to come with him to Mirkwood. Hastily, you agreed, for you too could not wait to start a new life with the elven prince. 

Since reaching Mirkwood, many seasons have passed and you two grow closer by the day. Under his guidance, your archery skills and ability to speak Elvish have improved. He took it upon himself to privately tutor you in the tongue of his people. Legolas still giggles when you fumble certain words on your tongue, but is quick to apologize, never wanting to discourage you. He says you have made remarkable progress and that you possess great linguistic potential. Whether that is true or he is exaggerating with sugar coated words, you cannot tell but it feels good to hear his encouragement either way. 

Most of your days together included walks through the woods and riding horseback, but today was a gloomy rainy day. A day that, Legolas decided, would be a wonderful excuse to help you get back to your studies. It’s not that you did not enjoy Elvish. Oh no! You quite liked hearing him whisper loving words to you as he held your gaze. 

“Meleth nîn, Im tur feel cín emel dring dan sab - My love, I can feel your heartbeat against mine”, he would say as he held you in his arms, his breath dancing upon your skin with each syllable. 

Saying you enjoyed that would be the understatement of the century. Everything in Sindarin sounded like poetry. Even the most mundane sentences were said with purpose and flowered language. Unfortunately for you, that also meant the most basic phrases you had to learn weren’t your typical ones. Instead of “I went to the store”, you had to say “I depart to look for food - Im gwann- na thír an aes”. It seems that most Elvish children learn how to say things like “I can feel it in the earth - Im tur- feel ha in i coe” before they learn “please” and “thank you”. No wonder they all sound prophetic when they speak common. Creepy oracle sounding sentence structure as your first language combined with being thousands of years old will do that. 

“Meleth nîn, you’re drifting off. Shall we return to our lesson or is a break needed?”, Legolas' words break you out of your trance. You look up from your desk, covered in notes, to see him towering above you, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. 

“Apologies, I was merely pondering the linguistic differences between Sindarin and Quenya Elvish”, you quickly come up with the excuse to hide the fact that you were simply not paying attention. 

“Is that so?”, 

“Yes, yes, the distinction between Elvish languages is very interesting to me”.

“This is the third time this lesson you’ve been distracted by those differences”.

“Ah, well…”, you trail off, caught red-handed. 

“Y/N, I will not force you to learn Sindarin if you do not wish it”.

“No, no, no, I want to learn. I promise. It’s all just new to me and takes a moment to sink in. Please, repeat what you said. I’m paying attention”.

Legolas smiles but does not repeat himself. Instead, he moves on to an exercise he is sure will get your attention. 

“We shall review what I have taught you thus far.” 

…

“ Very good, Y/N. Now how would you say ‘the stars shine white’?”

“ I elena mír thilivern” 

“The grass is green?”

“I thár na- calen”        

“Very good pronunciation. You have done well. I believe it is time to learn some new vocabulary”.

You take out a new sheet of paper from your stack, ready to write. 

“You need not write for this portion. Repeat after me.” 

“Okay”. You put your quill down. 

“Meleth nîn.”

“Meleth nîn. I know what that means already. You say it all the time”.

“And what does it mean?”

“My love”, your lips turn upward in a shy smile.  

“Very good. Let us move on then”, he smiles brightly, as if pleasantly surprised despite knowingly fully well that you knew its meaning. 

“I’m ready. Hit me.” 

He suddenly sits down next to you and takes your hands into his own.

“Im mel cin”  

“Im mel cin”  

“Do you know its meaning?”   

“No, should I? I’m sorry.”, your eyes widen as you try to recall whether he had said it before in a previous lesson. 

Legolas throws his head back with laughter. This may be the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh before… and it’s at you. Great. 

“Apologies. Apologies.”, he manages to get out between giggles, “The look on your face was priceless.” Your face sours at this and Legolas manages to resist a second burst of laughter from it. He thinks you equal parts hilarious and adorable. 

“You would not have known this phrase as I have never spoken it to you before. I do think it is high time for you to learn it”.

“Okay, so what does it mean?”, you scrunch your eyebrows together, ego still a little hurt from being laughed at. 

His grip on your hands tighten but his touch stays gentle as ever. He has always been gentle with you. His gaze holds the same softness. No, even deeper.  The blue of his eyes seem more vibrant and invite you in to look deeper within him. His eyes tell of a love that can never be truly explained in any language. Legolas has always had a staring problem when it comes to you, but this is something different entirely. Your cheeks redden at his seriousness.

“I love you”.

Your eyes widen once more and before you can react, he kisses you. Deeply. Passionately. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he repeats again and again into your lips. 

…

Maybe learning a new language isn’t so bad, if you have the right teacher.

[engeorged]

The Weight of the Stars

Interstellar travel wasn’t quite what humanity thought it would be. Clouded by the prophecies of Star Trek, it was thought that faster than light travel would bring us together, bring enlightenment to our race. 

In the year 2423, Earth was a shadow of its former self. Overpopulation, pollution, and resource scarcity had driven humanity to the brink of collapse. The once-blue planet was now a crowded, smog-choked sphere, its cities sprawling and suffocating under the weight of billions.

Advances in propulsion technology allowed humanity to reach distant stars, offering the promise of new beginnings on far-flung colonies. However, the journey to these new worlds was fraught with peril and the civilian flights reserved only for the hyper rich

Hypersleep, the only viable method for enduring the long voyages, had a grim flaw: it often killed those who attempted it. The most common issue was the failure of the feeding apparatus during hypersleep, which would cause the sleeper to atrophy from starvation. Through relentless experimentation, scientists discovered that weight gain before hypersleep significantly increased the chances of survival. The extra weight provided a critical buffer, allowing the sleeper to survive on their fat reserves if the feeding apparatus failed.

As the flights became cheaper and more affordable, a new wave of emigration was started. This led to a new societal norm—people seeking passage to other worlds had to gain substantial weight, with the amount depending on the distance to the destination. Closer colonies required an increase of 50 pounds, while the farthest outposts demanded a daunting 150 to 200 pounds. As a result, one's potential for exploration was measured not by intellect or skill, but by the ability to gain weight.

Cassian Reyes, a 27-year-old engineer, dreamed of escaping the confines of Earth. His target was Epsilon Prime, a promising colony located in a distant star system. More importantly it meant he would be lightyears away from his family. Epsilon four was one of the furthest away colonies and so the journey required a weight gain of 162 pounds, a challenge that seemed both daunting and surreal.

Cassian had always been lean, his physique a product of years spent working in the physically demanding environment of urban infrastructure maintenance. Yet, the dream of Epsilon Prime drove him to drastic measures. He had six months to transform his body, to pack on the pounds that would grant him a ticket to the stars.

Cassian Reyes stood before the mirror, his reflection revealing a body sculpted by years of physical labor. His Mediterranean heritage was evident in his olive-tanned skin, which stretched taut over a muscular frame. Thick, dark hair covered his chest and arms, complementing the stubble that framed his strong jawline. His pecs were well-defined, leading down to a flat, toned abdomen. His biceps and shoulders were broad, a testament to his strength and dedication to his work. Cassian's rugged, handsome features and powerful build often drew admiring glances, though his eyes betrayed a longing for something more—a dream of the stars. As he considered the journey ahead, he felt a twinge of hesitation about gaining the necessary weight. However, the prospect of exploring new worlds and fulfilling his dream made him believe it was worth the sacrifice.

Cassian began his journey by meticulously gathering as much food as his credits could afford, stockpiling it in his small apartment. Once a week, he indulged in a blowout feast, consuming as much as he could in one sitting. The first few attempts were gruelling, his body not accustomed to such excessive intake. He felt uncomfortable and sluggish, the strain on his stomach palpable. However, as weeks passed, he noticed the scale creeping up, a few pounds at a time. The incremental gains spurred him on, and he started to embrace the stuffings. Each week, he found himself looking forward to the ritual, savouring the sensation of his belly growing fuller and more distended with every bite. The initial discomfort gave way to a strange satisfaction, a tangible sign of his commitment to reaching Epsilon Prime.

Cassian stood before the mirror, his eyes tracing the subtle but noticeable changes in his physique. The ten pounds he had gained were evident in the slight increase of his once sharply defined abs, now slightly more pronounced and protruding. His muscular chest and arms retained their definition, but with a new, heavier presence. The weight gain was most apparent in his midsection, where his belly now had a firm bulge, pushing out against his waistband. He ran a hand over the new curve, feeling the solid mass beneath his skin. It was a strange, yet oddly satisfying transformation. The extra weight made him look more solid, more substantial. He marvelled at how his body was adapting to the challenge, a blend of his former muscularity and a new, burgeoning bulk that hinted at the journey still to come.

One evening, determined to see some progress, Cassian managed to get access to a large quantity of high-calorie food from a friend who worked in food management for a mega prison nearby. Over the course of a weekend, he stuffed himself relentlessly, consuming mountains of pasta, gallons of protein shakes, and endless desserts. His muscular belly, usually flat and firm, swelled painfully as he forced down every last bite. By the end of Sunday, his stomach was taut, distended and bloated, a heavy round mass that left him groaning in discomfort.

Late Monday evening after dealing with the aftermath of his binge all day, he stepped on the scale with high hopes, only to be disappointed by the small change. He had gained a mere half-pound. Frustration welled up inside him as he realised how slow and gruelling this process would be.

The streets of New York, now a sprawling megacity, were filled with advertisements promoting weight-gain programs and clinics specialising in rapid weight augmentation. Billboards displayed smiling families, all noticeably overweight, with slogans like "Pack on Pounds, Reach New Worlds!" Society had adapted quickly to this new reality, with restaurants offering hyper-caloric meals and gyms designed to minimise calorie burn.

Cassian walked past a clinic that promised rapid weight gain through advanced medical techniques. He paused, considering the possibility. He had heard stories of people who had tried these clinics with mixed results. Some swore by their effectiveness, while others spoke of painful procedures and lasting side effects.

After inquiring about the cost, Cassian was disheartened. The clinic's services were prohibitively expensive, far beyond his current means. Determined to make it to Epsilon Prime, he decided to take a risk and to save his credits. For the next few months, he ate sparingly, diverting most of his resources toward the clinic's fee rather than extra food.

Desperate for support, Cassian attended a meeting of "The Weight Gainers' Society," a group for individuals aiming to gain the necessary weight for interstellar travel. The group was a diverse mix of people—engineers, scientists, adventurers—all united by their goal to reach new colonies. Meetings were a blend of motivational talks, shared tips on weight gain, and emotional support.

Dr. Tanaka, a renowned scientist and leader of the group, addressed the attendees. "Remember, what we're doing isn't just for ourselves. We're pioneers. Our sacrifice paves the way for future generations. Every pound gained brings us closer to new horizons."

Cassian couldn't help but notice the physical transformations of the men around him. Their bellies ballooned noticeably, stretching their shirts to the limit. Some men were so swollen they had to adjust their seating positions frequently, their faces flushed from the effort. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional groan as another attendee shifted uncomfortably.

Cassian walked over to a chair, feeling remarkably thin in amongst these men, took a seat among the other participants. The chairs creaked under their combined weight, the air thick with the scent of nutrient-rich food and the faint hum of the machines that had reshaped their bodies.

Around him were men at various stages of their transformations, each with a belly that told its own story of indulgence and necessity. To his left, a man with a belly so round and tight it looked almost spherical sat with his hands resting on the dome of his stomach. His skin was stretched taut, veins faintly visible under the surface, and his navel had flattened into a wide, shallow depression. The man shifted uncomfortably, his breath coming in shallow bursts as his belly pressed heavily against his lungs.

Across from him, another participant had a belly that was more sagging, hanging heavily over his waistband. The man’s thick torso was covered in hair, his chest and stomach blending into one massive, furry expanse. He leaned back slightly in his chair, allowing his gut to spill forward, giving it room to breathe. His fingers traced absent-minded patterns over the stretched skin, as if he were reassuring himself that it was still there, still growing.

Cassian noticed that one of the younger men in the group was struggling with his newfound bulk. His once muscular frame had been overtaken by a belly that jutted out sharply, high and firm, pressing hard against his shirt. The fabric strained with each breath, his stomach lifting and falling like a boulder rising from a well. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a mix of exertion and anxiety as he tried to adjust to the sheer mass he now carried.

Dr. Tanaka entered the room, his presence commanding attention. He looked over the group with a proud, almost paternal gaze. "Gentlemen," he began, "you’ve all made remarkable progress. But as you know, there’s always more to be done, more to push yourselves toward your goals."

The doctor stepped forward, wheeling in a large metal cart. On it were several massive jugs of a thick, creamy shake—each labelled "Gainer Fuel." The liquid inside was dense, nearly opaque, and sloshed heavily as the cart moved.

"Today, I want us to practise something a bit more intense," Dr. Tanaka announced with a slight grin. "You’ll each take one of these jugs—each holds about two gallons of a specially formulated gainer shake. The objective is simple: drink as much as you can, as quickly as you can. Feel the stretch, feel the expansion. This is more than just feeding; it’s about learning to manage and even embrace the discomfort."

The men exchanged glances, a mix of determination and trepidation in their eyes. Cassian grabbed one of the jugs, feeling its weight in his hands, and unscrewed the cap. The smell was rich, almost overpoweringly sweet, and he could feel his stomach tighten slightly in anticipation.

Dr. Tanaka watched as they began to drink. The room filled with the sounds of gulping, thick liquid being swallowed down thick necks, and the occasional groan as their bellies began to swell. Cassian felt the shake coat his throat, sliding down into his already full stomach. The sensation was intense—each gulp sent waves of pressure radiating through his gut, his belly expanding outward as it filled with the heavy liquid.

Around him, the other men were experiencing the same transformation. The man with the spherical belly gripped the sides of his stomach as it pushed out even further, the skin creaking audibly under the strain. His breathing grew heavier, but he continued to chug, determined to meet the challenge.

The hairy man across from Cassian let out a deep, guttural sigh as his belly began to swell even more, the shake filling every available space within him. His gut, already massive, seemed to take on a life of its own, spreading outwards, the thick hair on his torso only accentuating its size.

The younger man struggled with the task, his face flushed as he forced down mouthful after mouthful. His belly had grown painfully tight, jutting out in front of him like a heavy boulder. With every gulp, his shirt inched higher, revealing more of his distended, firm stomach.

Cassian’s own belly was rapidly approaching its limit, the skin stretched so tight that he could feel every pulse of his heartbeat resonating through it. The weight of the gainer shake settled heavily inside him, pushing his belly outward until it felt like it might burst. He could barely breathe, each inhalation shallow and strained as his stomach dominated his torso.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Tanaka signalled for them to stop. The room was filled with the sound of laboured breathing, belches, groans, and the creak of chairs as the men shifted uncomfortably, trying to accommodate their newly engorged bellies.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his enormous, taut gut. It was a solid, immovable mass, heavy and packed with the thick gainer shake. He could feel it sloshing slightly inside him, a slow, deep wave of pressure that made him wince with each movement. But despite the discomfort, there was a sense of accomplishment—a shared, unspoken pride in what they had just done.

The handsome doctor  looked around the room, nodding approvingly. "Excellent work, everyone. This is the kind of commitment that will ensure your survival during hypersleep. Remember this feeling—the stretch, the fullness. Embrace it, because it means you’re on the right path."

As the session ended, Cassian and the others slowly made their way out, their bellies now impossibly large, each step a reminder of the weight they carried and the journey they were on.

After the meeting, Dr. Tanaka pulled Cassian aside. "Cassian, I read your application and I can see that you’ve done well today, but I can tell the stress is wearing on you. I don’t normally do this but your story reminded me of my own and my relationship with my own family. There's a private clinic I know of, run by an old colleague of mine. His methods are... unconventional, but highly effective. I think it might be just what you need to reach your goal."

Cassian thanked him and took the contact information, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation. As he walked away the heaviness of his round gut and the sloshing of the shake began to make him feel pretty horny. This had been happening a lot lately and was a source of concern and pleasure. The prospect of being behind fed by this doctor stirred something in him he wasn’t entirely afraid of. 

The address led Cassian to a nondescript building on the outskirts of the city. Inside, the clinic was surprisingly modern, with sleek, minimalist décor. He was greeted by a cheerful receptionist who directed him to the laboratory.

Dr. Felix Hargrove, a quirky man with wild hair and an infectious smile, welcomed him with enthusiasm. "Ah, you must be Cassian! Tanky told me you'd be coming. Follow me, I've got just the thing to help you reach your target weight." 

Cassian followed Felix through a series of corridors, finally arriving at a large room dominated by a peculiar contraption. In the centre was a large tank filled with a pale purple gel that seemed to shimmer under the fluorescent lights.

"This," Dr. Hargrove announced with a flourish, "is my feeding machine. It leverages technology similar to hypersleep feeding apparatuses, ensuring optimal nutrient absorption with minimal physical discomfort. You'll be suspended in the gel, which contains micro-nutrients and anti-gravity properties to aid in weight gain. You'll be fed continuously through a tube."

Cassian eyed the machine warily. "It looks... intense."

Dr. Hargrove chuckled. "It's certainly unique, but I assure you, it's safe and incredibly effective. Just relax and let the machine do its work."

Having signed a mountain of paperwork, Cassian changed into a pair of tight-fitting boxers which left very little to the imagination. The lan tech told him that they were smart trunks, designed to monitor his vitals. He climbed the ladder and stepped into the tank, feeling the gel envelop his body with a cool, not unpleasant soothing sensation. Dr. Hargrove and his assistants lowered him slowly until he was suspended in the middle of the tank, his head remaining above the surface, held in place by a plank of wood his neck went through. 

A thick silicone tube was gently inserted into his mouth, and he was hooked up to the feeding system above him. Cassian was surprised to feel a slight pressure almost immediately as the nutrient-rich mixture began to flow. The gel cradled his body, and he found it surprisingly easy to relax.

Dr. Hargrove monitored the readouts on a nearby console. "You're doing great, Cassian. Just let yourself drift and the machine will take care of the rest."

The machine whirred softly as the feeding process began. Cassian felt the cool, nutrient-rich fluid start to flow through the tube, sliding down his thick neck and into his stomach. The sensation was strange at first, almost unsettling, but he quickly adapted. The fluid was thick and rich, filling him up in a way that solid food never had.

As the minutes passed, he could feel his stomach expanding, the tight skin stretching to accommodate the growing volume. The sensation was both uncomfortable and oddly pleasurable, a deep, insistent pressure building in his midsection. He placed a hand on his belly, feeling the firm dome push outward, growing larger and rounder with each passing moment.

The machine’s rhythm became familiar, almost soothing, as it fed him every few hours. Cassian’s belly within days was already significantly rounded, expanded even further with each session. He could feel the fluid gushing down his throat, his thick neck flexing as it worked to accommodate the steady flow.

With each feeding, his stomach grew more distended, the skin stretching taut and firm. He watched in fascination as his once muscular abdomen transformed into a massive, solid globe. The pressure was intense, but he had come to enjoy the feeling of being so full, so heavy.

His stomach had become a swollen, firm dome, pushing out in all directions. He ran his hands over the tight skin, feeling the solid mass beneath. The pressure was almost unbearable at times, but it was a necessary part of his transformation. The gold flecks in the gel turned out to be nanites, as Cassian expected. When stretch marks appeared, the nanites activated, moving in a coordinated dance to heal them quickly. Though the process was not painless, it prevented long-term damage and ensured his body could continue to expand.

As hours turned into days, Cassian felt his body changing. The process was almost meditative, the constant hum of the machine and the rhythmic flow of nutrients lulling him into a state of near-sleep. He could feel the weight gradually adding to his frame, the gel working in tandem with the feeding tube to maximise his caloric intake.. 

Cassian floated in the tank, suspended in the pale purple gel. Every few hours, the machine administered a surge of nutrient-rich liquid through the tube in his mouth. As the liquid flowed into his stomach, Cassian felt a familiar sensation of fullness, quickly intensifying to discomfort. His belly expanded visibly, stretching to accommodate the influx of calories. His stomach ballooned painfully, growing rounder and tighter with each feeding. He clenched his fists, muscles tensing as his stomach swelled, the skin stretching taut and shiny.

As days passed, the frequency of the feedings increased, with surges of nutrients coming every hour. Cassian's belly ballooned further, each feeding session leaving him more stretched and full. The feeling was both uncomfortable and strangely exhilarating as he watched his body transform.

His stomach became a large expanding sphere, protruding dramatically from his body. The nanites not only healed his stretch marks but also increased his muscle mass to help him carry his new bulk. His legs thickened, his pecs and arms grew more defined, and a dense layer of hair covered his chest and stomach, adding to his transformed appearance.

Cassian could feel the weight of his belly pulling at his skin, the tightness making each breath a conscious effort. The gel continued to work its magic, ensuring his body could handle the rapid expansion. By the end of the week,  Cassian's belly was a massive, round dome, stretched to its limits.

After a fortnight it was time for Cassian to come out. The gel drained away slowly, revealing Cassian’s body inch by inch as he was raised from the tank. The pale purple substance slid off his skin, leaving it gleaming and taut. The nanites had done their job well, enhancing his muscle mass to support his increased weight, but it still felt alien to him. As the last of the gel receded, Cassian took a deep breath, eager to see the results. He felt heavier, more solid than ever before, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him—or the reaction of the technicians.

Gasps filled the room as the techs caught their first glimpse of him. Cassian looked down, his eyes widening in surprise and satisfaction. His body had transformed beyond what he had imagined. His once muscular frame was now dominated by a massive, firm belly that jutted out in front of him like a heavy, round boulder. His pecs were thicker, his arms and legs more robust, but it was his stomach that drew all the attention—an immense, taut dome that looked almost impossible on a human frame.

The technicians exchanged nervous glances, their expressions a mix of awe and concern. This was their first human experiment, and clearly, something had gone very right—or very wrong. One of the lead techs, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, stepped forward, his voice shaky as he spoke.

“Mr. Reyes, we, uh, seem to have exceeded the expected gain. We were aiming for a 75-pound increase, but… it appears we’ve overshot by quite a bit.”

Cassian ran his hands over his new bulk, feeling the solid, unyielding mass of his belly. The skin was stretched tight, not a hint of softness, and the sensation was everything he had hoped for. He couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across his face. This was exactly what he had wanted—more, even.

The techs were still in a state of shock, scrambling to figure out what had happened. “We—we were planning a second session to bring you up to the required weight, but it seems… well, it seems you’ve already surpassed that,” one of them stammered.

Cassian nodded, barely listening to their explanations. He didn’t care about the technical details; all that mattered was that he was ready—more than ready—for hypersleep.

“We did prepare some clothing for you,” another tech said, quickly wheeling over a rack of clothes. “But, um… they were sized for the expected gain, not… this.” He gestured helplessly at Cassian’s enormous belly.

Cassian grabbed the clothes anyway, eager to leave the lab and see how his new body felt in the outside world. The shirt and pants were absurdly tight, clearly made for someone much smaller than he had become. The shirt barely stretched across his broad chest, the fabric straining over his thickened muscles and barely making it halfway down his belly, which remained completely exposed. The pants were no better, fitting snugly around his thighs and hips but unable to button over his massive midsection.

The techs watched in a mix of horror and fascination as Cassian adjusted the clothes, unconcerned by their poor fit. They tried to offer apologies, explanations, and even suggestions to return for a more fitting session, but Cassian just shook his head, his grin widening.

“This is perfect,” he said, patting his enormous gut with a sense of pride. “Just what I needed.”

Ignoring their protests, he made his way out of the lab, his belly leading the way, completely exposed and unashamed. The too-small clothes clung to his expanded frame, accentuating every bulge and curve of his newfound bulk. Cassian walked with a newfound confidence, each step heavy with the weight of his transformation, knowing he was more than ready for the challenges that lay ahead.

His belly was an enormous, round mass of flesh, protruding dramatically from his body. The skin was tight and shiny, evidence of the rapid expansion it had undergone. Thick hair covered his chest and the top of his swollen stomach, giving him a rugged, almost primal appearance. His legs were thicker, his pecs more defined, and his arms bulkier, all contributing to the powerful image he now presented.

Returning to his small apartment, Cassian spent the next few days acclimating to his new body. He enjoyed the simple pleasures of exploration—running his hands over his swollen stomach, feeling the weight shift as he moved, and marvelling at the strength his enhanced muscles provided. Eating had become an entirely different experience; his appetite had grown, and he found himself savouring the sensation of fullness more than ever before.

The night before his departure, Cassian decided to spend every last credit he had on one final meal. He wanted to savour his last moments on Earth and push his body to its limits. He ventured out into the bustling night market, where street food vendors lined the streets with their exotic and enticing offerings.

Cassian started at a stall selling spicy grilled meats, devouring skewer after skewer. The flavours exploded in his mouth, and he could feel his belly beginning to swell. He moved on to a vendor offering rich, creamy pasta dishes. Each bite added to the growing pressure in his stomach, but he relished the sensation.

Next, he sampled a variety of dumplings, their savoury fillings adding to his already substantial meal. He continued, stall after stall, eating everything from fried insects to exotic fruits, his belly expanding further with each bite. The vendors watched in amazement as he consumed more food than they had ever seen one person eat.

As the night wore on, Cassian's belly grew painfully full, protruding even more prominently than before. The waistband of his pants dug into his flesh, and his shirt rode up higher, exposing more of his hairy, swollen stomach. He could feel the tightness of his skin, the fullness pushing against every inch of his belly.

By the time he returned home, he was completely maxed out. He stripped off his clothes and stood in front of the mirror, marvelling at his reflection. His stomach was a massive, round orb, shiny and taut. He ran his hands over it, feeling the immense pressure and the slight pain that came with being so full. He lay down on his bed, gently exploring his bloated belly, feeling the tightness and the way it stretched with every breath.

Cassian fell asleep with a sense of satisfaction, his body heavy and full, ready for the journey ahead.

The next morning Cassian packed his belongings and headed to the spaceport. He wore the loosest clothes he could find, but even they struggled to contain his bulk. His shirt barely covered his enormous belly, and his pants were tight around his thickened legs and waist.

At the spaceport, Cassian joined a crowd of similarly large passengers. They waddled through the terminal, their swollen forms a testament to their commitment to the journey ahead. Some wore specialised clothing designed to stretch with their expanding bodies, while others, like Cassian, struggled with ill-fitting garments.

As Cassian approached the boarding area, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He adjusted his shirt, trying to cover his exposed belly to no avail. The sight of his protruding stomach, hairy and round, was both a source of pride and a reminder of the sacrifices he had made.

Cassian stood before the hypersleep pod, holding the smart jumpsuit in his hands. It was made of a sleek, flexible material that shimmered slightly under the sterile lights of the preparation chamber. Designed to monitor vital signs and ensure maximum comfort during the long journey, the jumpsuit was equipped with advanced tech to conform to any body shape, but even the engineers behind it had probably never anticipated a form like Cassian’s.

He slipped one leg into the jumpsuit, then the other, feeling the fabric cool against his skin. The material was surprisingly elastic, stretching easily over his thickened thighs and muscled calves. As he pulled it up over his hips, the jumpsuit began to adjust, contouring to the curve of his lower belly. Cassian paused for a moment, looking at himself in the mirror, watching as the suit struggled to encompass his massive midsection.

With a determined tug, he pulled the jumpsuit the rest of the way up, guiding it over his round, protruding stomach. The fabric stretched taut over the dome of his belly, conforming to its firm, expansive shape. The material was advanced enough to adapt, but Cassian could feel the way it clung to his skin, snug and form-fitting, accentuating every inch of his new bulk. The suit’s sensors activated, and he could feel a faint vibration as they mapped out his body, ensuring a perfect fit, despite the extreme dimensions.

The jumpsuit sealed itself automatically at the front, a seamless line that ran from his chest down to just below his navel. It hugged his thick pecs, broad shoulders, and muscular arms, fitting them comfortably while still managing to accommodate the massive curve of his belly. The suit’s design was sleek, but there was no hiding the sheer size of his midsection; the fabric stretched so tight that every breath caused a slight ripple across its surface.

As he moved, the suit moved with him, the advanced materials adjusting to every shift, maintaining comfort and ensuring he was ready for the extended hypersleep. Cassian ran his hands over his belly, now encased in the smart jumpsuit, feeling the solid, reassuring mass beneath the high-tech fabric. The suit had conformed perfectly to his shape, but there was no mistaking the size of the man it was designed to protect.

He stepped toward the pod, each movement causing the jumpsuit to stretch and adjust, keeping his massive gut supported and secure. As he prepared to enter, Cassian felt a deep sense of satisfaction. The suit might have been designed for comfort, but it was his body that commanded attention—a testament to the journey he had already undergone, and the one that was yet to begin. Cassian climbed in, feeling the cool and familiar embrace of the gel as he settled into place.

As the pod's lid slowly closed, Cassian's mind wandered. He wondered about the journey ahead and what awaited him on Epsilon Prime. Would he arrive with his belly still swollen, or would the weight have been used up, leaving him lean once more? The uncertainty was both thrilling and terrifying.

The pod sealed shut, and the hypersleep process began. Cassian took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in his chest, and closed his eyes. The future was unknown, but he was ready to face it, no matter what form it took.

The ship's engines roared to life, and the stars blurred into streaks of light as the vessel leaped into hyperspace. Cassian drifted into a deep sleep, his mind filled with dreams of new worlds and endless possibilities.

Find the rest of my stories here

[atinyslittleworld]

Remember Me

liukang!san x kitana!reader

Summary: After reshaping the timeline to protect Earthrealm, San, now a god, loses his lover, Y/N, who is reborn in the Netherrealm without memories of their past. During the Mortal Kombat tournament, they reunite, with Y/N feeling an inexplicable connection. After a version of her from another timeline reveals their history, they vow to rediscover their love and build a new future together.

Genre: mortal kombat universe, fantasy, romance, drama

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none of that I know

a/n: it might be my deluluness but whenever i see mk11 liu kang is like i see san

In the vast realm of the Elder Gods, where time and space intermingled in the delicate dance of creation, San stood as a figure of great power and responsibility. Once a mere mortal under the guidance of Raiden, he had ascended to become the Fire God, his strength forged in the flames of countless battles. With the defeat of Kronika, the previous Keeper of Time, the mantle had been passed to him. It was a role that demanded both wisdom and restraint, for to wield control over time was to hold the fates of all realms in his hands. And so, San accepted the burden, knowing that the future of Earthrealm and beyond depended on his actions.

With Kronika's Hourglass, San set to work, carefully crafting a new timeline. The process was intricate, requiring precision and an understanding of the delicate balance between the realms. He reshaped destinies, altered fates, and gave new paths to those he held dear. Among them was Y/N, the woman who had captured his heart in a previous life. In that timeline, their love had been strong, a bond that had defied the odds of war and strife. But in the new reality San forged, Y/N’s fate was far removed from the life they had once shared.

In this new timeline, Y/N was born into the dark and treacherous Netherrealm, a realm known for its cruelty and corruption. She was no longer a simple woman of Earthrealm; instead, she was reborn as a princess, the youngest daughter of Queen Sindel, the formidable ruler of the Netherrealm. Alongside her older sister, Mileena, Y/N was raised in a world where power was everything, and emotions were a sign of weakness. The two sisters were groomed to be warriors, ruthless and unyielding, capable of ruling with an iron fist. Yet, despite her cold exterior, Y/N often felt a strange emptiness inside her, an inexplicable void that nothing in the Netherrealm could fill.

As San completed his task of reshaping the timeline, he was faced with a difficult choice. The power of the Hourglass was immense, but it was also corrupting. He had seen what it had done to Kronika, how the constant manipulation of time had twisted her mind until she could no longer distinguish right from wrong. Fearing that the same fate might befall him, San made the hardest decision of his life—he relinquished his power as the Keeper of Time. He chose instead to return to a simpler existence, becoming once again a mere god, one whose sole purpose was to protect Earthrealm by training its champions for the inevitable Mortal Kombat tournaments. Though he had given up the burden of time, the knowledge that Y/N no longer remembered him or the love they had shared weighed heavily on his heart.

When the time for the Mortal Kombat tournament arrived, San led Earthrealm’s finest warriors—Raiden, Kung Lao, Kenshi, and Johnny Cage—into the depths of the Netherrealm. The journey was perilous, for the Netherrealm was a place of eternal darkness, where the souls of the damned wandered restlessly and danger lurked in every shadow. As they entered the grand, shadowy palace of Queen Sindel, San’s heart raced when he caught sight of Y/N. Seated regally on an obsidian throne beside her mother and sister, she was a vision of dark beauty and power. Her gaze was cold, her eyes devoid of any recognition as they swept over the Earthrealmers with disdain.

San’s heart ached at the sight. Here was the woman he had loved, the one he had given up everything for, yet she looked at him as if he were a stranger. He had anticipated this moment, had known that in this timeline, Y/N would have no memory of their past together, but the reality of it was more painful than he could have imagined. Still, he held his emotions in check, knowing that he could not afford to let his personal feelings interfere with the mission. The balance of the realms depended on it.

As the days passed, San maintained his stoic exterior, focusing on his duties and guiding the Earthrealm warriors as they prepared for the tournament. Yet, every time he saw Y/N, his resolve weakened. He longed to reach out to her, to tell her the truth about their past, but he knew that doing so could unravel the delicate timeline he had crafted. The risk was too great, and so he remained silent, even as his heart yearned for the connection they had once shared.

One night, as San wandered the palace’s shadowy corridors in search of solace, he felt a presence approaching. It was Y/N. She moved with the grace and silence of a shadow, her dark robes flowing around her like tendrils of night itself. She stopped a few steps away, her gaze intense and filled with a strange, unspoken longing.

“Ever since you arrived,” she began, her voice soft but tinged with uncertainty, “I’ve felt something… strange. A pull towards you, an attraction I can’t explain. It’s as if my heart knows something my mind doesn’t.”

San’s heart clenched at her words. The bond they had shared in another life was still there, lingering beneath the surface, but he remained silent. He couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the timeline, not when so much was at stake. But as the days wore on, the situation grew more dire. Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, and Kenshi returned from a mission, battered and bruised. Kenshi had been blinded once again in this timeline, a cruel twist of fate that San had hoped to prevent.

Overcome with guilt and sorrow, San knew he could no longer keep the truth from Y/N. He sought her out, finding her alone in the palace gardens under the cover of night. The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers, the only sign of life in the otherwise bleak realm. He approached her slowly, the weight of his burden clear in his eyes, and began to speak.

He told her everything—about their past lives, their love that had transcended time, and the sacrifices he had made to protect Earthrealm. He explained how he had created this new timeline, one where their paths had been cruelly separated for the greater good. Y/N listened in stunned silence, her eyes wide with disbelief and something deeper—recognition, perhaps. As San spoke, fragments of memories began to stir within her, memories of a life she had never known yet felt deeply connected to.

When San finished speaking, Y/N stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his face, her fingers brushing against his cheek as if to confirm he was real. “I remember… fragments,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “But I feel it in my soul. We were in love, weren’t we?”

San nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow and longing. “Yes, and we still are. But the price of protecting this realm was our separation.”

In that moment, as they shared a kiss filled with the bittersweet essence of love lost and found, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the garden. San pulled away, his eyes widening as he saw another figure materialize before them—another Y/N, one he recognized instantly. She was from the side timeline, the one he had erased to create the current reality. She stood there, a perfect reflection of the Y/N from this timeline, but with eyes full of recognition, love, and a deep, unspoken sadness.

The Y/N from the new timeline gasped, stepping back in shock. “Who… who is she?” she stammered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

San, torn between the love of two worlds, looked between the two women, his heart breaking. “She is you… from another timeline. A timeline where we were together.”

The two Y/Ns stared at each other, one filled with confusion, the other with a love so profound it had driven her to cross the boundaries of time itself. The Y/N from the side timeline stepped forward, her hand outstretched as she looked at San with a gaze filled with longing and acceptance.

“I’ve been searching for you… through every possible world, every possible time. I knew we would find each other again,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

San stood frozen, caught between the past he could never reclaim and the present he had vowed to protect. The Y/N from the new timeline, still reeling from the revelation, felt a surge of jealousy and fear, emotions she had never experienced so intensely before.

“San…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “What happens now?”

San, his heart heavy with the weight of his choices, looked at both versions of Y/N. He knew that no matter what decision he made, someone would be hurt. But he also knew that love, in any timeline, was worth fighting for.

“You both are a part of me,” San finally said, his voice filled with emotion. “But this timeline… it is where I must remain. The balance of the realms depends on it. Yet, I cannot ignore the love that spans across time.”

He turned to the Y/N from the side timeline, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I will always cherish our love, but this is not our time. You must return to where you belong, to find peace in the world we shared.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded, understanding the burden San carried. “I will love you across all time, San. Remember that.”

With a heavy heart, San watched as she began to fade away, her form dissolving into the ether, leaving behind only the memory of a love that had defied the boundaries of time itself.

The Y/N of the new timeline stood in stunned silence, her heart racing with a mixture of emotions—confusion, fear, and a growing sense of determination. She had just witnessed a version of herself so deeply in love that she had traversed the vastness of time and space, risking everything, just to find San again.

When the silence became too much to bear, Y/N took a deep breath and stepped closer to San. Her eyes, once filled with uncertainty, now burned with resolve.

“San,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with emotion, “I may not remember everything about us, but I saw how desperate she was, how much she loved you. She searched through all the timelines just to find you, just to tell you she loved you. And then… she left, because she knew deep down that she couldn’t stay if she didn’t belong here. She understood that staying would disrupt the balance of all the realms and all the timelines.”

San looked at her, a soft smile touching his lips. He could see the resolve in her eyes, the same strength and wisdom that had drawn him to her across so many lifetimes.

“I want to learn everything about us,” Y/N continued, her voice growing firmer. “I want to know the love we shared, the battles we fought, and the sacrifices we made. I need to understand why she was willing to give everything up, just for a chance to tell you she loved you. Because if she felt that strongly, then there’s something here… something worth fighting for in this timeline too.”

San felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of hope that had been absent since he first saw her on the throne. He took her hands in his, holding them gently as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“We will discover it together,” San promised, his voice full of sincerity. “Our love has survived across timelines, and now, in this one, we have the chance to build something new. We’ll learn, we’ll grow, and we’ll forge a path that honors the love that transcended time.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt before. “I’m ready, San. Ready to walk this path with you, wherever it leads.”

In this timeline, they would not just survive—they would thrive.

[sachirobabe]

Chapter 9

Gojo Satoru x reader

Wc: 2640

Curseless au

Summary: Amidst the zombie apocalypse, your courage shines as you not only saves lives but capture the heart of Gojo Satoru. Together with his first-year students, you all embark on a perilous journey, not only for survival but in a quest for a cure that adds a poignant layer to the unfolding romance.

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Taglist: @spindyl

"You gotta shoot—"

"You haven't turned yet." Satoru swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head. "Y/n, please do something." He turns to you, fear evident in his eyes.

"Let me see." You approach him.

"No." He sternly says, stepping back. "It won't be much longer before I turn. Stay away." There's tears welling up in his eyes.

Nobara turns away from the group, collapsing on the ground, choking on her sobs. She grabs onto Itadori, shaking.

You forcefully grab his hand and inspect it, it was a straight cut down his hand. "There's no teeth marks." You say to Satoru, he's next to you pacing back and forth. "I don't think you got bit. It's a deep scratch."

"Still, one of those things touched me." Megumi says.

"Do you feel any different?" You ask him, setting your backpack down to find your things to clean and bandage him up.

"I-I don't know." He says stressed.

"Can he still turn if he got scratched?" Nobara asks, wiping her tears.

"Not likely, but it can get infected more easily." You say, "Itadori, go find me a chair please." He nods, having hope that Megumi will be alright.

Satoru remains silent, watching you carefully clean his wound. He's terrified, the thought of losing one of his students was his worst nightmare. Especially Megumi, he had taken the roll of his father.

"He's going to be okay." You tell Satoru and he simply nods.

"Here." Itadori brings over a chair and helps Megumi sit down.

"This is gonna sting a bit." You say and pour the liquid over his wound, Megumi hisses and shuts his eyes. Now that his wound was clean it was much easier to see how deep the cut was.

You frown as blood continued to spill out, "You're gonna need some stitches."

"Now?" Megumi's eyes widen.

"I don't know, I was thinking maybe next week at 2:00 pm." You sarcastically say.

"Not funny." Satoru frowns.

"Sorry. Yes now." You say.

"Have you ever done stitches on somebody that wasn't yourself?" Megumi asks.

"You're really worried about that dude? You almost fucking died." Itadori smacks the back of his head.

"You're lucky I'm injured." Megumi glares at him.

You have Satoru hold your things for you while you got to work on Megumi's hand, you warned him that it wasn't going to feel very good.

He shuts his eyes the whole time, making a fist with his other hand and digging his nails into his palm to help relive some pain.

You tied it off and applied some ointment, "Take these." You hand him some pain killers and he swallows them.

As soon as he stood up from his chair, Satoru engulfed him in a hug. You softly smile, he really cares for his students. Megumi was surprised and a little grumpy, but he returned the hug. You noticed Satoru wipe his eyes quickly, thinking nobody saw him.

"Don't do that again." Satoru clears his throat. "Thank you, Y/n."

"Yeah, thank you." Megumi says.

"You're an idiot." Nobara hits Megumi, but ends up hugging him with Itadori.

"Where are we?" You ask, putting your things away and arming yourself again.

"Looks like our base back home, but bigger." Nobara remarks.

"There's a door that way." Itadori says and begins leading the way.

You're all cautious in case anybody else is there, the door opens and reveals a huge room, there were tons of rooms. It looked like your base back home.

After ensuring nobody else was in the building, you wandered off to explore. There was even more food and supplies, but one particular room made you stop in your tracks.

It was a lab. The one Shoko had been showing you. 'This is the base Nanami was talking about.' You think to yourself. Suddenly, you grew excited, this place would be perfect.

"Satoru!" You run back to him, he was inspecting the kitchen. "This is the base Nanami was talking about."

"What?" He says confused.

"Nanami and Shoko wanted to check out this base. We're in the base." You say.

"And there's nobody here?" He asks, raising his weapon now.

"I don't think so." Itadori says, coming back with the other two first-years.

"Get into formation." Satoru says, you lift a brow as the four of them get ready. "Follow us." He makes eye contact with you.

You simply nod and hold up your gun, joining them as you go room to room, inspecting every crevice for other people or zombies. You feel Nobara holding her breath before every room and then releasing it once there's nothing.

It took awhile to make sure the place was empty, but it was worth making sure it was. "Well?" You face Satoru.

"I think we could make this work." He pulls you in for a hug, melting from the smell of you. "We'll make it." He whispers for you to hear, then pulls away reluctantly.

Nobara eyes Itadori as they both watched the scene unfold in front of them, she gives him a look indicating that they'll debrief about this later.

Megumi returns from upstairs, a frown evident on his face. "Guys," he gets everyone's attention, "I think we're trapped here."

"What do you mean?" Itadori furrows his brows.

"Follow me." Megumi leads the way up the stairs. You all are able to lookout from the secure tower, you see the entire place surrounded by zombies.

"What the hell?" You say, "Why aren't they leaving?"

"No idea, but we can't leave." Megumi says.

Satoru rubs his forehead, muttering curses underneath his breath.

"Can we take them?" Itadori clenched his jaw, looking determined already.

"There's no way." Nobara shook her head.

"Absolutely not. We've risked enough for today." Satoru says, "We've gotta figure out a way to contact the others."

"Do you think they'll still be at the radio tower?" You ask, eyeing the machines next to you that would be able to contact them.

Satoru checks his watch, "We have 30 minutes before we're supposed to meet back up with them."

"It's worth a shot." Megumi turns on the machine and messes with the frequencies. He nods towards Satoru and he begins speaking.

"Nanami? Are you there? Over." It's quiet and staticky, he tries again another two more times, but nothing.

"Next one." You say to Megumi and he toggles the radio. Eventually, the static became a norm as the 5 of you continued to reach Nanami and the others.

"Anyone—hear." You briefly heard over the static. "Wait Megumi, listen." You make him pause mid switch and he does what you tell him.

"Located near—" it cuts off again, "Go ahead one more." Nobara and Itadori circle around the table.

"Hello, hello, can anyone out there hear me? Over." The person says clear as day.

"That has to be Nanami!" You gasp and then quickly hit Satoru's shoulder so he'd be able to make his message.

Before Nanami can give his second message, Satoru interrupts him. "Yes, do you copy? Over."

You're all anticipating his next words, if they even come, "Loud and clear, who's speaking? Over." You all cheer for a quick moment then get back down to the matter at hand.

"We got someone!" Nanami gets Maki's attention and she tells the rest of the group to listen.

"It's Satoru Gojo, we ran into a predicament, over."

Nanami frowns when he hears his name, "Never mind, it's this idiot." The group groaned, excitement leaving their bodies.

The conversation between the two went back and forth a few times before Nanami ultimately decided that he and his group would lure the zombies away from the gate, giving you guys just enough time get the hell out of there.

"No casualties please." Satoru mutters underneath his breath before placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the front door. "We escape on my word, got it?" He faces the first-years and they all nod.

Satoru gives you a firm nod and you open the door, one by one everyone walked towards the fence and stood, awaiting their teachers orders.

You searched for a familiar blonde near the crowd of zombies and finally spotted him and the rest of the crew.

"You're late!" Nanami yells at Satoru, "I said be back at 3:30!". This causes Satoru to frown. The group creates a commotion to get the zombies attention and it works slowly, the ones further in the back seemed to quickly move towards them.

After a few minutes the crowd begins to dwindle, you draw your bow and begin firing arrows to back up some zombies and eliminate them. Nobara joins in and begins to throw some of her knives, effectively taking them down.

The guns would draw too much attention and bring the zombies that Nanami lured out to come back.

"Now! Go!" Satoru yells, you yank open the gate and allow everyone to get out.

"Meet us on the 5th block!" Shoko yells and you all begin running away from the zombies. You shut the gate closed and follow behind them.

As you ran you shot a few arrows to keep the distance between danger larger, you're quickly running out, making you worry.

Your lungs burn the longer you're having to run, Satoru is keeping his eye on you, making sure you're not too far behind. You're busy shooting off the zombies, after you fired your last arrow you quickly caught up to the group.

You met up with Nanami and his group completely winded and out of breath. Everyone had their hands on their knees, desperate for air.

"Thank you." Satoru says to the other group.

"Everybody good?" Maki asks, eyeing all of you in case someone is acting off.

"Yeah, all good." You say, finally being able to breathe.

"Let's head back. Quickly." Nanami suggests. The walk/jog back to base was quiet. Everybody in their own thoughts.

Being in the semi-comfort of the base eased your anxiety. The kids were safe and sitting in the living room, talking quietly about what happened.

You were lost in thought, thinking back to the situation where you could've seriously gotten hurt. You put them all in danger, a feeling of regret pooled in your stomach, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

"Y/n?" Nanami brings you back to reality, "Did you hear what I said?"

You quickly shake your head, "No, I'm sorry, I was-uh distracted." You cleared your throat, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," He waves you off, "I just asked if you were up to catch us some dinner."

"Oh yeah, of course." You quickly get up from your seat and prepare to leave.

"I'm coming with." Satoru smiles.

"No, it's okay." You brush him off. You don't wanna put any of them in danger again.

"What?" He chuckles.

"I kinda want to be alone, just for a little—"

"Absolutely not. Nobody goes anywhere alone." He crosses his arms.

"Then I'll ask Nanami or Shoko to go with me." You say, continuing to pack.

"Excuse me?" He scoffs.

"I didn't mean it like that. I like having you there, but I don't really feel like talking and I know Nanami or Shoko won't ask anything." You explain, finally facing him.

"I'm going." He stands his ground, towering over you. He's so close to you that you can smell the snack he ate earlier.

"It's fine. I'm sure you're tired anyway." You cross your arms, mirroring him.

"Tired?" He laughs, "You must not know me, sweetheart. I'm going." The look in his eyes tell you that he is not backing down.

"Okay." You say, and begin to head out. He follows behind you, offended that you even thought of bringing somebody else with you.

The door slams, catching everybody's attention in the room. "What just happened?" Shoko furrows her brows.

"No idea." Megumi says, eyes trained on the door.

You put some distance between the two of you, noticing it was later than you'd like when hunting, you let out a frustrated sigh. Satoru frowns at your behavior, wanting to be close to you.

He shakes his head, 'What's wrong with me?' He doesn't even get a chance to blink before you had already caught dinner, walking past him without a word.

He clenches his jaw and jogs up to you, "What's wrong?" He whispers.

"Nothing. It's been a long, tiring, eventful day." You say.

"Did I do something?" He asks.

"No."

"Then why the cold shoulder?" He asks and he's met with silence on your end. He's had enough, he moves in front of you, holding you in place so you can't leave. "What's wrong." He asks again, this time you can tell he's not playing around.

"Nothing." You roll your eyes and try to walk away. His grip on you was unwavering, he was insanely strong. "Can we maybe not do this now? Especially when we're out in the open?!" You free yourself from him and begin to walk away.

His eyes widen at your annoyance, enforcing the distance even more than when you did at the beginning of the hunt.

You feel terrible for snapping at him, your eyes water as you continue walking back. A small part of you wanted him to come back up to you and try again, now you're sure he hates you.

As you enter, you quickly tell Nanami that you're not feeling too well so you were going to lay down for a bit before your watching shift. Satoru frowns at your absence, but decides to still give you some space.

You were able to sleep for a few hours, but your nightmare of what happened earlier woke you up in cold sweat. You catch your breath for a few seconds and calm your anxiety, you realize you're parched and get up to grab a water.

Satoru sat on the couch, a frown still evident on his face, but his eyes lighten up the second he sees you pass by. He gives you a small smile and watches you drink from your water quickly.

He stands up and walks toward you with a plate in hand. "It's not warm anymore, but I figured you'd be hungry." You see the food you had caught earlier.

"I'm not really hungry right now, but thanks." You take the plate and sit down at the table, he mirrors you and sat down as well.

He gives you a small smile, finally content that you were talking to him again. His attention went out the window, watching the snow fall slowly.

"I'm sorry for earlier." You snap his attention back towards you, "I just didn't want to endanger you more than I already did."

"Endanger me?" He moves closer to you. "You're talking about what happened at the mall, right?"

Your stomach churns as you begin to replay the scene in your head. "That was really fucking stupid of me, I'm really sorry." You rub your eyes, trying your best to keep your tears from falling.

"Don't talk about yourself like that." He clenches his jaw, "We're gonna run into trouble everywhere we go. That was not your fault."

"I left my weapons, who does that?!" You say, your teary eyes looking into his big blue ones, he fights everything in him to pull you into his chest and hold you.

"It was a mistake, but you're not stupid or weak." He reassures you. "And we're all gonna make them, not just you, alright?"

It was quiet for a few moments, you were beginning to calm down. "Besides," he gets your attention, "they were weak anyway." He makes you chuckle, bringing a smile onto his face. "There she is." He pinches your cheek and you jokingly push him away.

[readyforthegarden]

When the Nightingale Sings - Teaser

Coming Fall 2024...

Pairing: Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis: Medieval AU! In a world where noble alliances dictate futures, you have been betrothed to Prince Emers, a man you barely know and certainly don't love. As you travel towards the royal palace for your impending wedding, your journey is upended, causing you to run straight into a kind, lonesome hunter. With no choice but to trust him, you embark on a journey together towards the nearest village, navigating through the forest and it's perils. As the solace you find in his companionship builds will you choose to honor your duty, or will you abandon everything you've ever know to follow your heart?

Warnings: this fic will contain mentions of death, blood, brief depictions of murder, smut, angst, fluff.

A/N: I’d like to thank @joshsindigostreak for always believing in my AUs and helping me workshop them to find the plot, and a big huge thank you to @earthlysorrows for helping me write through all my brain funks and beta-reading/editing. I truly don’t know what I would do without you!! 💖

“Does the prince not charm you?” Danny asked, the firelight dancing across his tanned skin. You bristled slightly, your memory pouring through the letters you had exchanged with the monarch. 

“He,” you paused, finding the right words. “He is not as verbose when it comes to the written word as I would like.” Danny smirked, knowing the rumors the prince was a dud were proving themselves true. 

“What would you want him to write?” Taking a sip of your ale, you almost snorted into the pint glass. 

“Anything other than the acres of land I lived on or how the castle in Farrynden is one of the best in the world.” you made a face, rolling your eyes. “I once wrote him a letter, telling him that thinking of our upcoming nuptials had my bosoms heaving.” 

“And what was his response?” Danny asked softly.

“His response was to ask if my father had any cattle.” Danny’s smirk fell, his eyes darting over you. His iris's darkened, his tongue licking his lips before he spoke again.

“If you had written me a letter about your heaving bosoms I would write you one back telling you all the ways I would touch them, tease them.” your cheeks reddened as your breath caught in your throat, watching as Danny leaned closer to you, the tip of his nose nearly bumping yours. Feeling a ghost of his breath upon your lips, your eyes fluttered shut, heart pounding calling to him to move just a few more inches so his lips would touch yours.

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @myownparadise96 @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

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[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptasmagorah; cw for schmoop like whoa.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) 22: (k)night (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

John, for a split-second, thinks he's hallucinating. He's knackered to the point of swaying on his feet from a double shift followed by-- because apparently he'd been a bastard in a past life-- a bloody 'morale building' staff meeting that had made him want to gouge his eyes out.

Alright, he also might be a bastard in this life. But the point is, he hears Sherlock's voice despite there being no Sherlock in the room.

'Ibn is a rather naughty horse, isn't he?'

The sound is tinny but discernible, and John fwumps down into his chair to eye the baby monitor. The camera is aimed at Rosie's cot, of course, so it's mostly Sherlock's shoulder as he leans over with a book. John's tired brain flips through the rolodex of bedtime stories until it hits upon the one with a big white horse named, of all things, Ibn Rafferty.

'But he is fun to ride, and nice to everyone while being ridden.'

He hears Sherlock pause. 'Do you know, Rosamund, that's arguably the first definition of chivalry.'

John blinks. Not where he'd thought that was going, but all right.

'The word "chivalry" is derived from the Old French term "chevalerie,"' Sherlock continues. 'And it was meant to describe soldiers who fought on horseback.'

John snorts. His daughter is brilliant, obviously, but there's not a chance in hell she's understanding this. Unless Sherlock is drawing some truly impressive illustrations off-camera. Which, he supposes, is disturbingly plausible.

'These soldiers became standards of good behaviour, you see. On a horse, you're much taller than everyone else, aren't you? And horses can kick, or be otherwise very rude. So, the guideline for chivalry became, essentially, don't be rude to people who don't have a horse.'

'Don't be rude,' Rosie echoes, and John supposes that's what he'd want her to get out of this lesson, really.

But Sherlock's not finished. 'It had many iterations, of course, but eventually became a ritualised outlook on romantic love.'

John's brows shoot up. He'd've thought this subject to be one Sherlock would delete. Courtly love will likely never solve him a case, after all.

'One of the rituals, for example, was the High Minnie.'

Rosie is interested enough to ask through a yawn: 'Minnie Mouse?'

Sherlock chuckles. 'No, m-i-n-n-e. German. "Hohe Minne" colloquially means "high love."'

Yeah, clearly Sherlock is aware John can hear him. Even he's not going to use the word "colloquially" for the benefit of a toddler.

'It's when a knight-- the person on the horse-- goes through a series of trials to prove their love to someone. For instance, being willing to sacrifice themself to save the person they love. Making a long journey fraught with peril and hurt. Taking on a mighty monster.'

John's tired old heart clenches in his chest. Sherlock knows he's listening, all right.

'Now,' the detective continues, 'in the stories, after all these trials fail to win their beloved's heart, the knight finally accepts that their love is unrequited.'

He pauses. Rosie, John can see in the monitor, is languid with sleep, caught by Sherlock's rich voice and about to go under.

'And when love is unrequited, it can hurt very badly. But the knight knows those sacrifices were worth it, in the end, regardless. Because that's simply what love is, sometimes.'

John rubs absently at his chest. It's too much, he's so tired and so in love that it's almost too much.

On the monitor, Rosie's little brows seem to scrunch together, and she moves, rolls a little towards Sherlock. Who chuckles, wry but warm, as he rubs her tummy. 'It's alright, little bumble. Sometimes the knight does get their love, in the end. And it's the best reward in the world.' The shape of him on the screen leans in and kisses Rosie softly. 'Especially when it comes with little girls named Watson.'

John finds he has to look away from the monitor. His eyes are stinging, and now it's not just from exhaustion.

'You're a menace, Sherlock Holmes,' he calls quietly as he hears the stairs creak faithfully under Sherlock's socked feet.

'I know,' the detective says as he crosses the room. He leans on the arms of John's chair and kisses him briefly, their mouths clinging. 'But you found me worthy, in the end.'

'In the end, in the beginning, in the middle,' John counters. Sherlock raises an eyebrow. 'Alright,' John concedes. 'Maybe not in the middle, there, for a bit.' His smile is slow but genuine. 'But you prove yourself with every nappy, every boring case, every time you think before you throw yourself to the wolves.'

'I do try,' Sherlock deflects, his skin heating up. They've both about reached their limit for sentiment for the evening, John thinks.

'Then shut up and try this, you bastard.' And he pulls Sherlock down once more.

[❤️]

[I did mediaeval re-creation for 15 years, so this is where my brain went when I saw the prompt. The book Sherlock's reading from is 'Our Animal Friends at Maple Hill Farm' by Alice & Martin Provensen. I learned of hohe minne in Leverage 4x15, 'The Lonely Hearts Job.']

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Wild Nights || CL16 {Epilogue}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: With a new album out it needs promoting and you find yourself missing Charles while you are in New York for a talkshow interview. Warnings: 18+only, flufffff WC: 1.1k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

February 2025 “I wish you were here,” you whispered into the phone that you weren’t supposed to have in the talk show studio. “I’m shaking like a leaf.”

“You’ll do great, my love,” he reassured you and you could hear a lot of background noise from the other people at the airport. “I’ll see you soon.”

No sooner had the call ended that the studio lights dimmed and the live audience fell silent.

“Now our next guest really needs no introduction,” Jimmy Fallon began to say while you nervously paced behind the curtain, until Bea pulled you to a stop, “her debut self-titled album went platinum and I have no doubt her new album, Safety Car, will be just as good. Please, put your hands together for Y/N.”

Bea gave you an encouraging push and you forced yourself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. No matter how many times you took the stage for a concert, or an interview, you still found yourself nervous - but you equally loved the thrill that came with it.

Once you were sitting in the chair the jitters faded away and you fell into the rhythm of answering the questions he fired your way.

“So, Safety Car, talk me through this album. How did you come up with the name?”

“Obviously Charles is a huge part of my life, we have known each other for a couple of years now, and this album was made collaboratively with him. That’s all him on the piano with pieces that he composed, so the journey of this album gives a glimpse into that relationship we have, especially the ups and downs that come with life. 

“I’m not sure if you keep up with Formula One, Jimmy, but when there’s danger on the track they deploy a safety car to guide the drivers through that peril. This whole album is about being each other's safety car and helping navigate the other through those hard times.”

“Wow, that is so wholesome and sweet,” he gushed before looking down at his cue card. “But what exactly is ‘that relationship’? Because we know you and Charles are together, everyone and their dog knows you two are together, but there was never actually any announcement as such and now there’s rumours that you secretly tied the knot while you were at the Vegas Grand Prix this year?”

You tipped your head back with a laugh. “You’ll have to ask him that because I don’t think he ever officially asked me out. We kind of just collided and stayed that way.”

“So you aren’t together?” he gasped like it was some scandalous news but you just gave him a wink.

“We love each other dearly, I mean, we found each other when we were both going through a difficult time and helped each other to heal. Any chance we have at seeing each other we take but we have always been aware that the reality is that our lives are in very different places. Charles’ work takes him all over the world and with my second tour coming up there just aren't a lot of places where our lines intersect.” 

The crowd sighed sadly but you shrugged it off with a smile as you continued, “Neither of us would ask the other to give up on their dreams, that wouldn’t be love then, would it? It’s what inspired my first single Love Is Letting Go. Charles had an amazing 2024 season and has renewed his contract with Ferrari, and his dream is to win a championship with them in particular so he’s very focused on that for this coming year and I’m so proud of him. Maybe one day our lives will be at the same pace but for now we cherish the moments we do get.”

“Oh don’t we know it,” the host chuckled. “We have all seen the photos floating around whenever you two hit the town. Looks like you have some pretty wild nights out together.”

“We do have a lot of fun. Why not? Life’s too short, might as well be wild and free.”

“That is true, but are you free? How else do you explain this photo?”

A picture appeared on the screen that had been taken inside the infamous White Chapel in Las Vegas. It wasn’t exactly clear who was in the photo because of the costumes but it didn’t take a genius to work out who was standing at the altar getting married. 

Pierre’s brown hair stuck out the front of a slick jet-black coifed wig while Bea’s white halter dress barely contained her boobs as she twerked against him. It was a little harder to tell it was you and Charles in front of Arthur, who had bought an online Certificate of Ordination so he could be the celebrant. Your brother-in-law had spent so long trying to find a printer in the hotel that he was last to arrive and left with a Star Wars costume.

“Well, Jimmy, I believe that is Darth Vader, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, and Bonnie and Clyde. And it looks like they are having one hell of a time.”

“That’s all you’re gonna give us?” he asked with a chuckle and mock disappointment as he shook his head. “Fine, fine. Can you at least give us a song?”

The small side stage was dark when you took your place at the microphone but when the lights came on and illuminated the piano it wasn’t Bea that was sitting there as planned.

The crowd screamed as they saw Charles and your eyes widened, a smile growing as you drank him in after a long two weeks apart. “You’re meant to be on a plane.”

“I got on an earlier one,” he said, the piano microphone picking up his soft words as he sent a wink to the camera, “so I could support my beautiful, talented wife.”

The air froze for a split second before chaos erupted and the audience cheered.

You looked across the stage at Jimmy as a smile broke on your face. “Uh-oh, busted!” You reached into your pocket and slipped the sedate diamond ring you had chosen, opting for something smaller than the huge rock that Charles would have gone for, and slipped it back on your finger that had felt empty without it. “I guess this makes us pretty official.”

Charles teased the crowd as he played the wedding march tune. “There was never any doubt in my mind.”

Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

[80ssuperstar]

Hey Guys I made this Story that's based on The Ancient Indian Tale of Prince Rama and Princess Sita and the Ten Headed Demon Ravanna but I made it different with the Characters like: Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha, Ravanna, Hanuman, Bharata, Indrajit, Manthara, Surpanakha, Queen Kaikeyi (Prince Mordecai's Jealous Stepmother)

THE STORY OF MORDECAI AND SAMANTHA:

Once upon a time, in the magnificent kingdom of Ayodhya, there lived a noble prince named Mordecai, beloved by all for his wisdom, courage, and kindness. He was the heir to the throne, destined to rule alongside his beloved wife, Princess Samantha, a woman of unparalleled beauty, grace, and compassion. Their love was the envy of all who beheld it, and their kingdom flourished under their benevolent rule.

However, their happiness was not to last, for lurking in the shadows was the wicked ten-headed demon, Ravanna, whose heart burned with jealousy and malice. Ravanna coveted Princess Samantha for himself, and he plotted to separate her from Prince Mordecai and claim her as his own.

Mordecai: "My dear Samantha, our love is like the eternal flame, burning bright amidst the darkness. Fear not, for I shall always protect you, my beloved."

Samantha: "Oh Mordecai, my heart sings with joy at your words. Together, we shall overcome any obstacle that dares to challenge our love."

One fateful day, as Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha were taking a leisurely stroll through the enchanted forest that surrounded their kingdom, they came across a wounded deer lying in agony. Princess Samantha's compassionate heart was moved with pity, and she beseeched Prince Mordecai to help the poor creature.

Samantha: "Mordecai, look! A wounded deer lies in distress. Please, we must help it."

Mordecai: "Fear not, my dear Samantha. I shall use my magic to create a protective circle around you. As long as you stay within its bounds, no harm shall befall you."

That night, as Princess Samantha rested within the safety of the magic circle, she heard a terrible cry echoing through the forest. Believing it to be her beloved Mordecai in grave danger, she rushed to his aid, unaware of the treacherous trap that awaited her.

Samantha: "Mordecai! I hear cries of distress! I must go to him at once!"

Mordecai: "No, Samantha! Stay within the circle! It is not safe!"

But it was too late. Ravanna, with his dark magic and deceitful wiles, had disguised himself as Prince Mordecai and lured Princess Samantha out of the protective circle. Seizing her in his powerful grasp, Ravanna vanished into the depths of the forest, leaving behind naught but despair and heartache.

Ravanna: "Foolish princess, to trust in the illusion of safety. Now you are mine, and no one shall stand in my way."

Prince Mordecai, upon discovering his beloved Samantha missing, was consumed with grief and fury. Determined to rescue her from the clutches of the vile Ravanna, he embarked on a perilous journey, aided by his loyal companions, including the mighty monkey warrior Hanuman, the valiant prince Bharata, and the wise sage Vishwamitra.

Hanuman: "Fear not, Prince Mordecai, for I shall lend you my strength and my cunning. Together, we shall vanquish the foul demon Ravanna and rescue Princess Samantha from his grasp."

Bharata: "My lord, I pledge my sword and my loyalty to your cause. Let us march forth and bring justice to the wicked."

Vishwamitra: "Prince Mordecai, the path ahead is fraught with danger, but with courage and determination, you shall prevail. Trust in your heart, and victory shall be yours."

And so, Prince Mordecai and his companions embarked on a perilous quest, braving treacherous jungles, raging rivers, and dark caverns in their relentless pursuit of Ravanna and his captive, Princess Samantha.

Along the way, they encountered many trials and tribulations, including battles with Ravanna's fearsome minions, such as his son Indrajit, the demoness Surpanakha, and the wicked maid Manthara, who sought to thwart their noble quest at every turn.

Indrajit: "You dare to oppose my father, Ravanna? Prepare to face the wrath of Indrajit, the mighty warrior prince!"

Surpanakha: "Ah, Prince Mordecai, how handsome you are! Why waste your time on that insignificant princess when you could have a powerful demoness like me at your side?"

Manthara: "Princess Samantha is a threat to my mistress's ambitions. I shall do everything in my power to ensure that she remains in Ravanna's clutches forever."

But through courage, perseverance, and the power of their unwavering love, Prince Mordecai and his companions overcame every obstacle that stood in their way, drawing ever closer to their ultimate goal of rescuing Princess Samantha from the clutches of Ravanna.

At long last, after a fierce and epic battle that shook the very foundations of the earth, Prince Mordecai confronted Ravanna in his fortress atop the towering mountain of Lanka, where Princess Samantha was held captive.

Mordecai: "Ravanna, your reign of terror ends here and now! Release Princess Samantha, or face the wrath of a righteous prince!"

Ravanna: "Foolish mortal, you dare to challenge me? I am Ravanna, the Lord of Lanka, the most powerful demon in all the realms! You are no match for my might!"

But Prince Mordecai, fueled by his love for Princess Samantha and the strength of his noble heart, fought with a courage and determination that knew no bounds. With the aid of his allies and the blessings of the gods themselves, he clashed with Ravanna in a battle that shook the heavens and the earth.

In the end, it was not the strength of arms or the power of magic that determined the outcome, but the purity of Prince Mordecai's love and the righteousness of his cause. With a final, mighty blow, he vanquished Ravanna and rescued Princess Samantha from the darkness that had ensnared her.

Mordecai: "Samantha, my beloved! Are you hurt? Fear not, for you are safe now, and I shall never let harm befall you again."

Samantha: "Mordecai, my hero! Oh, how I have longed for this moment! With you by my side, I fear nothing, for our love is stronger than any magic or malice in the world."

And so, Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha returned triumphantly to their kingdom of Ayodhya, where they were greeted with jubilation and celebration by their grateful subjects. Their love had been tested and proven true, and together, they ruled wisely and justly for many years to come, a shining beacon of hope and inspiration to all who beheld them.

THE END!!

I Hope you guys liked it ���🥰

For: @fxe4596 , @nicomxm23 , @mordorigs , @jgquintelslut , @pinkcandycatmakesart , @anifaz , @isrrael120 , @notadumbdog , @martingeekermmd , @eeveepalooza , @apollothedeity, @sidoresca, @siinhorhy, @insomniacz, @rhyliethecaterfly , @yeetafry, @at-weeb96, @kiwithekool11437, @kiko2032, @orchestralauthor, @untitled14360, @loudlyhappycupcake

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You (Polin) - Part 6

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

Chapter 6

Dearest Penny,

I hope this letter finds you well.

My journey home was perilous and took far too long. However, I did receive good news upon my arrival. Mother was awake in bed, the worst of her illness having passed recently. It will still take a few weeks but the doctor is confident she will recover fully. I have told her a lot about you. As I predicted, she is excited to meet you. 

I miss you. I remind myself it’s only a matter of time before we can start our new life together, full of adventure and laughter, but it still feels too long.

Once my affairs are settled, I will be traveling to London to see you. I know your Mama will not take kindly to me but I hope to win her over with my intelligence and wit (I’m envisioning the mocking smile on your lips as I write this).  If all else fails, I shall win her approval through jewelry, as you suggested. Hopefully that will alleviate her concerns about an untitled son-in-law.

Love,

Arthur.

Penelope read the letter again, smiling to herself. While she and Arthur could converse for hours, his letters tended to be short and to the point. And though they lacked a writer’s flair, his letters still felt distinctly like him and she appreciated that.

With other men she was shy and tongue-tied, and they were never interested in her anyway, but Arthur Debling had been different. At a dinner gathering in Ayleshire, it was he who had approached her, and once she got over her initial shyness the conversation flowed between them. Perhaps it was because he was a merchant and not a member of nobility, but from the very beginning he treated her with respect and a matter-of-fact stance rarely displayed by others. To him she wasn’t some woman in desperate hunt for a husband or an awkward, shy wallflower to be avoided at all times. She was Penelope Featherington and she was enough.

For the first few weeks there had been no romantic intentions, they simply talked of art and poetry. Over time she came to see he possessed a brilliant scientific mind that he went out of his way to hide. Only when she questioned him did he finally admit he was embarrassed of his intelligence and felt the need to dampen his curious mind from others. That was the first night she started to see him in a different light.

“Penelope!”

The sound of Mama's voice brought Penelope out of her reverie. After hiding the letter, she made her way toward her mother’s chamber in the opposite corner of the hallway. Portia was already dressed for bed and brushing her hair when Penelope entered the room. “Yes, Mama?”

The older woman cast her a quick glance in the mirror. “Lady Violet has invited us for tea tomorrow afternoon.”

Pen paused. Tea at the Bridgertons meant seeing Eloise and perhaps even Colin. “I will be in-”

“And before you come down with a sudden case of illness, I will remind you that personal invitations of this nature have been rare of late. We can not afford to turn down any, let alone the Bridgertons.”

Between the Marina scandal and then Cousin Jack, there were many who no longer wished to associate with the Featheringtons. While that was a relief for Pen, she knew the slow exclusion really hurt Portia even if she did hide the pain behind a mask of angry condescension.

“Yes, Mama. I understand.”

“Good. Now get some sleep, child. I will not have you looking haggard tomorrow.”

Penelope sauntered back to her chamber, her mind still reeling. No doubt Eloise would be present and angry with her. Would she at least pretend to be polite? Pen didn’t know. So far they had mostly avoided each other, except for the ball last week when Eloise had warned her to stay away from Colin.

After entering the chamber, she was busy locking the door when a noise startled her.

“Pen.”

Colin’s throaty growl made her gasp, her body suddenly taut.

Hesitant, she turned around.

It had been two days since she last saw him at the park. And now he was here in her chamber, shamelessly sitting at the edge of her bed. Hair tousled, clothes messy and disheveled, he stared at her intently. His face was unshaven, revealing a stubble growth of a day or two. Instead of taking away from his looks, however, it only emphasized his handsomeness more.  

Her heart started pounding in her chest, both from the anger that flooded through her veins and the knowledge that his hold upon her was still so potent. “How did you get in here?” she asked, keeping her voice steady so he couldn’t sense how much his presence unnerved her.

“I climbed up the tree and through the window.”

As if violating her privacy was a daily occurrence for him.

“You’re so very determined to ruin me, aren’t you?”

“I was careful. No one saw me.”

“Well, that makes it alright then.”

“I didn’t take you as the sarcastic sort, Pen.”

“Add it to the growing list of things you don’t know about me.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes locked with hers.

The silence between them grew more tense by the second while they held still, as if a single movement could ignite a fire that would burn them both.

And then he stood up. “Do you know why I’m here, Pen?”

There was a button missing from his waistcoat, dirt on his breeches, and he had never looked more beautiful than he did at that moment. Her heart flipflopped in her chest. “I don’t care. I simply want you to leave.”

A bitter smile shadowed his lips. “Because it’s that easy for you, isn’t it? You’ve moved on already.”

“Yes.” The strength in her voice surprised even her when all she felt was anxiety twisting up her insides. “It’s time you do the same.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? That I’ve been trying?” Anger laced his words, hurt etched onto his face. “You don’t want to have anything to do with me yet I can’t imagine a single moment of my life without you. Why is that, Pen?”

With a slow and deliberate gait, he swaggered forward.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about you? Your voice, your smile, your taunts...” He tapped the side of his temple erratically, eyes heavy with emotion. “Always in my fucking mind, refusing to give me even one moment of peace. You’ve been torturing me!"

With every step that drew him closer, waves of madness surged through her body. She didn’t want to feel like this, like her mind and body were completely out of her control.

“Why is this happening to me, Pen?” His voice cracked. “Why do I feel this way?” He clutched his heart, his long, lean fingers rubbing the spot over his waistcoat repeatedly. “It didn’t used to be like this, I was fine before! But now I think about you leaving me and it’s like I can’t breathe. Like a part of me will be lost forever.”

Her eyes softened. The man standing in front of her wasn’t the one who broke her heart. In his place was her dear friend, the boy she had known her entire life and loved for as long, and he was pleading for her help. “That empty feeling will go away, Colin. I promise.” She took a furtive step toward him. “You’ve only just returned, your life probably feels untethered with everything changing around you. But give it time, let yourself settle in, and things will be better.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Nothing will ever be the same without you.”

“It will, I promise.” She sent him a sad smile. “You will meet someone beautiful and kind, and she will be everything you ever wanted. The true love of your life. And this sadness that you feel right now will become a distant memory.”

A beat of silence followed as he contemplated her words.

Would the agonizing pain that coursed through her at the thought of him with another woman ever lessen? She didn’t know. Maybe with time and distance she would be free of this curse, but for now he was still very much embedded in her soul and the eventual reality of him falling in love made her want to retch.

“Is that what you think will happen for you, Pen? You’ll marry this Arthur and make me a distant memory?”

There was no outward change in him yet she immediately sensed the shift within.

He cocked his eyebrow. “Do you think I will let that happen?”

She stared at him defiantly as he approached her. “You have no say in my life.”

“But I do, Pen.” The glint in his gaze sharpened, making his blue eyes appear even darker. “Because it’s me you’re in love with. It’s me you swore never to forsake.” He came to a stop in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “I intend to hold you to that.”

Her anger returned. “And I intend to fight you. Because I will not sacrifice my future to appease your selfishness.”

“I know,” he sighed, regret looming over his face. “I should never have asked you to do that. But that’s why I’m here, Pen. I want to make things right between us.”

Her demand to know how died on her lips as soon as he retrieved something out of the pocket of his waistcoat. Stunned, she stood frozen as he held out an emerald ring, one she recognized right away from having seen Lady Violet wear it occasionally. 

“My father gifted this to my mother on their tenth anniversary.” There was reverence in his voice as he spoke. “I think he chose it especially for the colour. It’s remarkable, isn’t it?”

She swallowed, nodding. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“This has always been my favourite of mother’s jewelry. I knew one day I would gift it to my wife.”

Her mind went blank.

“And maybe now is that time.” He bent down on one knee in front of her, holding up the ring. “Will you marry me, Penelope Featherington?”

Time stopped.

For so long all she wanted was to be Colin’s wife. In her mind marrying him meant she would finally be happy and fulfilled. He would be the perfect husband, and she would be a member of the happy and loving Bridgerton family at last. All her dreams would finally be realized.

Except she wasn’t happy or even excited. The man she loved was on his knees, proposing to her, and all she could think about was how wrong it all felt. The proposal didn’t come from a place of love. No. Instead it was borne out of fear and a stubborn refusal to grow up. A last resort so he didn’t have to face losing their friendship.

Then there was Arthur. With him she didn’t have to hide, she could be who she truly was and not have to apologize for it. And she could continue to write, whether that be as Lady Whistledown, someone new or even herself, and do so without shame or regret.

Colin may have been her lifelong dream but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have new ones. And with Arthur, the life she wanted was within her grasp. A true possibility rather than simple fantasy.

Immediately she felt a sense of peace, knowing she was doing the right thing for herself.  “I’ve already said this to you before. I’m betrothed to another.”

In one fluid motion he slid the ring back into his pocket before rising to his full height. He had always towered over her but that had never intimidated her before. For the first time she felt a small twinge of fear percolating in her stomach, realizing the stark darkness on his face was also new.

He was quiet, too quiet, stalking her every move with his eyes, slowly pushing forward. A predator enjoying the rituals of the hunt, preparing his prey for the kill. Instinctively she retreated, moving back until the door lodged against her spine. He continued to move in, slowly but ferociously, invading every inch of her space until he was standing directly in front of her. She craned her neck to meet his stare, refusing to bow down.

“Is that a no, Penelope?”

She couldn’t think with him so close but she held strong. "Yes."

“Even though you’re in love with me and not fucking Arthur.” 

Maybe he thought throwing her love back in her face would embarrass her into submission but it had the opposite effect. Infuriated, she stood on her tiptoes to glare up at him. "So what? You think you can use my feelings to manipulate me?" She shook her head no. "I have dreams that matter to me far more than my love for you. And I will not jeopardize my chance to achieve them just for scraps of your attention."

Her words were meant to provoke his temper so he would withdraw. Instead his eyes softened as he hunched lower to look at her, his gaze roaming languidly over her face, a gentleness to them that made her insides dance with anticipation. She trembled when his hands cupped her cheeks while he studied every inch of her features, as if marking her in his memory. And then his thumb gently brushed over her pout, his dark blue eyes following the tremor of her lips, and all she could do was breathe slowly, tentatively, her heart drumming in her chest.

“I used to think you were the sweetest person I knew. Always so kind and agreeable,” he murmured, more to himself than her. “And easily forgotten.”

It hurt. Even though she had always known that that’s how people viewed her, if they bothered to see her at all - but to have him admit it was a different kind of pain. “Then forget me. Leave.”

He didn’t move, his gaze concentrated on her lips, thumb stroking left to right, right to left. “And now I can’t get this impertinent mouth of yours out of my head.”

It came as a shock when she realized Colin was hard, his erection pressed against her body. "You're aroused."

He met her eyes. “I’m aware.”

She swallowed audibly. “Why?”

Irritation surged through him. “You’re here, dressed in a robe with your beautiful hair down, talking to me, arguing with me, breathing around me, and you ask me why I’m aroused?” His hands slid down her body until they were at her waist, fingers curving into her sides as he pressed her tightly against him.

A faint gasp escaped her lips feeling his hardness.

“I want you, Pen,” was his raw, throaty plea. “I can’t stop.”

“Show me.” Her voice was firm, determined. “Show me how much you want me.”

To be contined...

A/N - Thank you for the support on this fic. Hope you're still enjoying it!