#this hit me spur of the moment and i Had to draw it.

[seagullcharmer]

siblings <3

[littleredwolf]

Sinful Sighs

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are like a couple of horny teenagers after completing a mission where feelings were revealed - continuation of ‘Hungry Eyes’.  

Warnings: 18+ content - MINORS DNI- blowjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, sex with protection, cursing - just pure smut for the sake of it. 

Words: 1,303

A/N: Okay so part 2 came along sooner than expected - I am a woman with needs and apparently writing saucy fanfiction is how I fulfil them these days!

--

READ PART ONE [HERE]

The Quinjet had barely touched the tarmac before you and Bucky were barreling down its ramp and making your way into the compound, hands entwined as you marched towards the living quarters. 

“For the love of God, turn off your comms before you get to your room!” Sam called after you, prompting you to rip out your earpieces and leave them on a side table as you passed through the lounge. 

You couldn’t unlock your door quick enough, and you squealed excitedly when Bucky playfully slapped your ass and shoved you through it once you’d finally got it open.

His mouth was on yours in seconds, hands on your waist as he guided you backwards. You dropped onto the edge of the bed when you felt the mattress pressing against the back of your knees, looking up at the super soldier through lust-filled eyes as you began to undo his belt. He caressed your cheek with his flesh hand, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips as he watched you, groaning when you opened your mouth and began to suck on it - a taster of what was to come. His vibranium hand came up to clasp your hair, making you gasp in delight as he gently pulled on it to make you look up at him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his confession sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core. 

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you purred as you finished unbuttoning his pants and began to remove them along with his underwear, licking your lips as your eyes settled on his throbbing erection. 

“And why’s that, doll?” He asked, indulging his curiosity. 

“So that I could have done this a long time ago,” you said, wrapping your hand around his cock and taking his full length into your mouth. 

Bucky inhaled sharply and tightened his grip on your hair, eliciting a moan from you that vibrated around his cock and caused him to buck his hips towards you. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, but you held steady and continued to work him into a frenzy, licking and sucking and drawing the most delicious sounds from him. 

He reluctantly pulled you away after a few minutes, and you whined at the loss of contact. 

“Lay back,” he ordered, taking off his shirt and watching you like a predator stalking its prey as you followed his instructions. He dropped to his knees once you were in position, and you sucked in a breath as he began a trail of kisses that started from the inside of your ankle and led up to your inner thigh. 

Lifting the skirt of your dress, he took a moment to admire your underwear before hooking his fingers in the waistband and sliding them down, tossing them aside and continuing his path of kisses. 

You whimpered as he reached your slick folds, and you felt him smile wickedly against them before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, nails raking along his scalp as you rolled your hips to meet him, soft moans passing your lips that spurred him on. 

Gripping your hip and holding you in place with his vibranium hand, Bucky added his flesh hand to the assault on your pussy, sliding a finger inside while his thumb circled your clit alongside his tongue. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as his finger curled up and rubbed against your sweet spot, speeding up your impending orgasm. 

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky groaned, his breath ghosting over your pussy and adding to the sweet sensations. “Come for me.” 

It was all the encouragement you needed and within seconds your pussy was squeezing around his fingers, back arching as your moans filled the room. 

“Good girl,” Bucky praised once you were finished, removing himself from between your legs and licking your juices from his fingers as he climbed onto the bed. “Sweet as a peach.” 

The lewd act made you bite your lip, and at Bucky’s command you moved up the bed to lay back against the pillows, spreading your legs and allowing him to position himself between them. He kissed you deeply, needily, and you eagerly parted your lips for him when he teased them with that skillful tongue of his, drawing more moans from you as he trailed more sloppy kisses along your jawline and neck. Your hands returned to his hair as you thrust your hips up to meet his cock, aching to have him inside you. 

“Please, Buck. I need you,” you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. A look of uncertainty crossed his face as he hesitated a moment, and you didn’t need the ability to read minds to know what he was thinking. 

Reaching over to your nightstand, you opened the drawer and pulled out a condom, smiling reassuringly up at him as you ripped it open and reached down to roll it over his cock. He groaned at your touch, and when you were done he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“If you change your mind about this, let me know and I’ll stop,” he whispered, and you cupped his face to make him look at you. 

“Not gonna happen,” you replied. 

It was all the reassurance he needed, and with a searing kiss he lined himself up at your entrance and slid into you. You gasped as he slowly pushed himself all the way in, filling you completely, and he paused only a moment for you to get accustomed to the feeling before pulling away and repeating the motion. 

Your soft moans turned to heavy pants as Bucky began to move faster, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer with each thrust while his mouth set your skin ablaze with every kiss to your neck, face and chest. 

You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could go deeper, and waves of ecstasy rolled over you as he brought you to the brink over and over again, the room filling with your exclamations of pleasure and encouragement for him to keep going. 

You lost count of how many times you came while Bucky fucked you, your pussy squeezing his cock and drawing the most explicit sounds from him. It didn’t take long for him to reach his own release, and his cries of pleasure joined yours as you both climaxed for the last time.  

You whined at the loss of contact when he pulled out to dispose of the condom, but he was back by your side in a matter of seconds, pulling you into his tight embrace and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he planted soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

“I can’t believe we haven’t done that sooner,” he murmured, his breath against your ear giving you goosebumps. “You’re fucking amazing.” 

Your cheeks reddened and you laid your head on his chest to hide the fact. 

“Says you,” you scoffed, and now it was his turn to blush. “At least now we know, we can make up for lost time,” you mused, and he hummed in agreement, the rumbling of his chest vibrating against your ear. 

“Well, the sooner we get started, the better,” he stated, and you lifted your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Really!? Already!?” 

“Perks of being a super soldier, doll,” he smirked, and you giggled as he nudged himself into you to show his returning hard on. 

“FRIDAY - add condoms to the shopping list,” you announced to the AI as you reached over and pulled another from the nightstand. You had a full box in there, but something told you they wouldn’t last long. 

[tommysversion]

Curls - Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

Note: Oh, shocking, a Joel ficlet inspired by this image. It’s smut. There’s no plot beyond: Joel grows out his hair. You like to pull it.

Warnings: smut | unprotected PIV sex | one singular spank | unspecified age gap | reader has no physical description except being less broad than Joel and AFAB | Joel has a dirty mouth | Hair pulling | Fluff(ish) at the end

“Joel…”

You drag your fingers through curls that you’ve seen turn steadily greyer recently; you’ve watched him grow them out, shove them back off his face.

Before you can help yourself, you tug on his hair gently, barely at all, shifting beneath him. He has you pinned down, caged beneath his bigger, broader frame. It’s about the only action you can take, beyond running your hands up his back, fingertips ghosting across scarred muscle.

Your fingers always come back to his hair; you tug again as he shifts against you, grinds his pelvis into yours, making sure you feel every single thick inch of his cock buried inside you.

“Ah, fuck, Joel!” You gasp, yanking on his curls as he hits your sweet spot.

Joel bites his lip, trying to muffle the moan that threatens to escape him when you pull on his hair, far harder than you ever have before. Maybe it doesn’t come out the way it would if he had let it, but this tiny, muffled, needy little moan comes out nonetheless.

A devious idea crosses your mind, spurred on by his unexpected reaction. You wait until he’s nuzzled his face back into your shoulder, focusing too much on how wet and tight you are around his cock to notice what you’re scheming.

Once you’re certain he’s distracted, you run your fingers through those long, soft, grown out curls once more, giving yourself a moment just to touch, before you pull. Hard. Or at least, hard by your standards.

Joel tries, tries so damn hard, not to let any sound escape him, but the moan that tears from his throat is downright filthy; it turns to a sinful growl when he sees how pleased with yourself you look.

“Oh, think that’s funny, do ya? Real cute.” He grumbles, frustrated with himself, because damn if he isn’t the scariest man in Jackson, and yet you can bring him to his knees, turn him into a whimpering, pleading mess without much effort and with zero hesitation on his behalf.

Joel grips your thighs in his big, scarred hands, practically folding you in half as he growls again, roughly fucking into you.

You gasp and moan, tugging him by his curls into a greedy, sloppy kiss as he spears his cock deep into you, grinding his hips against yours so that the coarse curls at the base of him tease your oversensitive clit.

“Ohhh, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck Joel!” You’re completely gone, lost, clinging onto him, writhing beneath him as best you can when he has you folded up beneath him.

Looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes, you whimper as he draws back, changing angle so he can look down at you with his deep, caramel gaze, plush lips slightly parted as he watches you come apart beneath him.

“That’s it, darlin’, c’mon now-“

His rough, low voice is soft, almost sweet, a stark contrast to his rough, relentless, heavy thrusts, letting gravity take over. Joel knows he has you, can feel how close you are by the way your cunt flutters around him, tightening around the fat girth of him, making him groan again.

“Fuck, darlin’, so good for me, you’re so fuckin’ good for me…”

Joel knows he’s rambling, or rather, he’s dimly aware of it, knows he sounds like an idiot, like a pussy drunk fool, but he’s so lost in you, in the way your fingers tug insistently at his curls, at the way you whimper.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he moans the last word as your fingers card through his hair once more, pulling him down close to you; leaning so close like this, you can hear every muffled moan, every grunt and exhale and growl as his hips slap lewdly against yours.

“Joel, I -“

You can’t get the words out, trailing off into a desperate, pathetic whimper as your hips meet; the added stimulation to your clit finally sending you over the edge.

Your vision blurs, unsure if your eyes are closed or if you simply can’t see, your entire body shaking and writhing beneath him as your nails drag down his back, pulling his much broader frame as close to you as possible.

Joel groans again, an almost pathetic sound as he fucks you through it, taking his time to draw out your climax, chasing his own with relentless abandon.

Sixty years old, he thinks, and he can still fuck like a man half his age. If he wasn’t so focused on how wet and tight you are, on your hands in his hair, on the way it feels when you pull on his curls, he’d feel so smug about this.

Maybe that says more about the effect you have on him than anything else.

Fuck, he’s close, he realises, so caught up in watching you come apart beneath him that he hadn’t been keeping himself on edge well enough.

“Joel… please…” you look up at him with big doe eyes, breathing heavily as you try to regulate yourself, watching the way those greying curls fall into his dark eyes as he lets out a low moan again.

Half a dozen sharp snaps of his hips and he’s there, growling, panting, moaning, sounding filthier and more desperate with each one before he reluctantly pulls out of you at the last minute, wrapping one big hand around his soaked cock and stroking, grunting as he spills onto your soft skin, cock twitching in his hand at the way his spend coats you.

You look so pretty like that, Joel thinks, somewhere in the depths of his brain that isn’t completely occupied by feeling as though every nerve in his body is reconfiguring.

“Hey, Joel?” You lean up, press a kiss to his jaw, running your fingers almost lovingly through his curls again.

“Hm?” He reaches to the nightstand for a soft cloth to clean you up with, finding his glasses, too, unfolding the large frames and sliding them up the curve of his nose.

“You should have told me you like having your hair pulled.”

He scoffs, lays the lightest of swats to your ass.

“Careful, darlin’, don’t start what you can’t finish.”

It’s your turn to scoff as you take the cloth from him, finish cleaning yourself up and toss it to the hamper at the end of the bed.

“You and I both know I can finish you just fine.” You giggle as Joel pulls you back into his arms, against his broad chest, where you feel safest.

Running your fingers through his curls, you hum contentedly as he holds you; this is exactly where you belong, you think.

“You just watch yourself,” Joel shakes his head, but there’s no heat in his tone. “Guess it wasn’t so bad that I grew this out after all, huh?”

“Definitely not.” You press another kiss to his jaw, eager to just hold onto this moment together, to be held by him and, admittedly, look forward to the next time.

[commanderyes]

The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

[wandixx]

I didn't realized I haven't posted it before

Ghost of fries and hero of cookies art!!!

aka how I figured out Dani's Hoopoe costume design and some chibis (with my mediocre marker skills)

"Ghost of fries and hero of cookies" is a cute and fluffy fic I wrote about Dani going to Gotham and accidentally became Signal's sidekick. Here is tumblr link. Here is AO3

Anyway, let's get to the art

Photos may be poor quality, my scanner did shitty job, and I tried to fix it up a bit in Ibis Paint, but there is only so much I could do

Hoopoe with hoopoe, to get you hooked up :)

This is finished design, so now we can get to the journey there. Some drawings will be just Dani because, yes, she threw on a cape, but I still needed to know how she looked like underneath.

And in the love of Gods, I was not going to put a child in the crop top.

Or at least I changed that when it hit me that I can... just do that. I can redesign her. Anyway, chronologically:

As you can see, in the beginning, both her cape and her mask had some more interesting designs that I got rid of. Not because I don't like it, I still think it's pretty cute, but! Mask got simplified because I realized that Bats keep their masks pretty simple in color, and she got her mask from Duke, so it needed to be simpler. Just... let's say that the one with a bit more fun stuff going on was her original paper mask, and she was pouting up a storm when Signal gave her such boring mask in exchange. THE ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL!

And the cape got more boring because it's literally a blanket. I don't think she could get a blanket with this specific pattern. But for a funny bit that I thought out when it was too late, The Pin that holds her cape together is either something like "I ❤️ Central City" or Flash merch. I highly encourage you to suggest to me what it could look like

Anyway, then came actual figuring out of her actual costume

I don't know what to tell about this part, to be honest. Maybe I would vibe better with the first one if I kept green parts one shade instead of... 4 or 5. Second one just isn't it at all, though I could probably give her belt back at some point. Third one was pretty close but this 》 shape on her torso just felt weird, so I just simplified it to the straight line in the fourth, which is the final. The elbow protection there was literally spur of the moment idea when I looked at the figure drawing and decided "I like the elbow shapes. Let's keep them" and I kept them.

Anyway, this is other shot of finished Hoopoe!Dani, with better view of her costume:

And chibis! Chilling on the roof with Signal and eating fries like good lil gremlin ghosts oath to do:

I'm frankly really proud of the chibis because for the life of me, I usually cannot draw them without feeling that their faces went through a hydraulic press or at least met a wall at really high speed.

That's all for today

[nevertheless-moving]

Continued from this au, where Kaladin gets strung up for a highstorm instead of thrown in prison during Words of Radiance, inspired by @gnecrognomicon

"The King ordered-"

Adolin rolled his eyes. "I am the King's cousin, you seriously believe I would go against his word and cut this man free? In front of a crowd of witnesses?" His tone somehow grew even haughtier the longer he talked.

"Now step back, I said l will speak with him alone."

The guards reluctantly moved away, and the prince stepped close enough that Kaladin could hear his low whisper.

"Say the word and I'll cut you free."

Kaladin blinked, looking at Adolin. He saw only open sincerity.

"...You're serious," Kaladin said.

"Sureblood is a minute's gallop away. I know you're not comfortable on horses, but a Rhysadium is different, he would never throw someone against my wishes. His saddlebags are already packed with a month's supply of food, not to mention enough bromes to hire passage on any ship in any port."

"Ship?" Kaladin asked, bewildered, but the princeling just kept going.

"We can make it to a stable in the outercamps before the stormwall hits. The moment the riddens start, we'll be gone - most won't be able to get their mounts out as early as us."

"Us?"

"Of course, they won't dare to shoot if I'm in the saddle, and anyway Sureblood wouldn't ride without me. I'll return once I see you safe to a port, there will be a punishment but -"

"Brightlord-" Kaladin said quietly. He was sure his expression was doing something strange. Hopefully the guards wouldn't read too much into it.

"Oh! A copy of your writ of freedom is also in the saddlebags - and your Horneater cook packed the meals! And when I say I packed enough bromes to hire a ship, I meant emeralds. You could buy a ship. You'd never have to work a day in your life, if you didn't want."

"Princeling, this is very -"

"Renarin will look after your men until I return, he won't let Elhokar or any of the Highprinces touch them, I swear. I wasn't able to get a spanreed, not without Aunt Navani noticing, but you should be able to hire one easily enough- I'll support your men in leaving the camps, it -"

"Adolin."

The prince finally stopped.

Kaladin took a deep breath, willing himself not to pull in stormlight to help with his throbbing headache. "I appreciate your willingness, I really do."

And he did, to his surprise. He was oddly touched by how much thought the brightlord had clearly put into the escape attempt. This wasn't a spur of the moment idea. Not to mention, there would no gain in it for Adolin, and quite a lot of risk.

"We can do it," Adolin said desperately. "Ten heartbeats and you'll be free. I can even get the soulcast manacle off completely, once we stop and rest, weaken it with -"

Kaladin laughed, the sound shocking Adolin into quiet again, the sound shocking even himself.

"I'll be alright, princeling." He smiled slightly, despite himself. "But thank you. Sorry to waste all your planning."

Adolin narrowed his eyes. "You swear it? This isn't a dramatic suicide attempt, after your earlier, equally dramatic ones failed?"

"I already decided against that, ages ago."

For some reason, the prince didn't seem comforted. The lines around his eyes tightened further.

"Your vow," he insisted.

Kaladin hesitated a moment, and he could see Adolin's right hand twitching to the side.

"I'm not going to promise I won't die," he said, exasperated. "You're a soldier, you know that there's no guarantees. I could get unlucky."

He lacked the delirious, instinctive confidence he felt last time he went into the storm. But he could feel the cool press of spheres, each from a different one of his men, sewn to the inside of his shirt by Hobber. So much more than last highstorm.

It had been difficult to breathe, in the worst of the tumult, but he also had a much better grasp on his powers this time, thanks to training with Sigzil, Rock, and Lopen. He should be able to draw in more than enough.

"I have...better reason then most to believe I'll survive this. I'll be alright. I'm not running."

Syl stood next to Adolin's shoulder. She had listened to the whole speech with thinly veiled wonder. Even though he knew she would be devastated if he broke his oath to flee, she had gasped and looked pleadingly at the mention of a ship. Kaladin smiled at her.

The prince glanced suspiciously at the air next to him, then started visibly.

Syl, in girlish form, giggled, sticking out her tongue, then turned into a ribbon of light, moving straight at the prince, causing him to blink as his yellow and black hair was shifted softly in the breeze.

She made a ring around Kaladins head, then zipped up, joining her cousins playing in the eddies above, the winds just beginning to pick up, sky growing dark.

It wouldn't be long now.

Adolin watched her go with a curious expression, then cocked his head at Kaladin.

"Stormblessed, huh?"

Kaladin just shrugged in reply. Well, he tried to anyway. The chains didn't have much give.

"Adolin, I gave my word that I'd see this through."

Adolin finally slumped, stepping back.

"Your men didn't think you'd run either. This still isn't right even if you do have... something on your side."

Kaladin didn't try and shrug again.

[comet-forgot-you]

Can you please write bottom river x fem reader 🙏🙏🙏

crave

river x fem!reader

summary: river fucks herself on your fingers. (based on this.)

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, degrading, begging, think thats it tbh.

a/n: another one thank you. enjoy this river fic, its the last you’ll EVER get. no its not i’m just a jokester. enjoy. do not repost for any reason.

work was killing you. constant paperwork piled up for you to do, forcing you to work it out on your off days. when river was at your house, the time you were meant to be spend with her was spent on your computer typing away at whatever stupid work your boss had given you. it made river so mad.

she missed your gentle touches, missed hearing you talk about whatever, she missed laying in silence watching whatever movie the two of you had heard about, and fuck did she miss the way you fucked her.

she was so pent up, it had been weeks since you had touched her and she was starting to go insane. she had never craved you more than she did now, and seeing you, blue light glasses perched on your nose, in an oversized shirt you had stolen from her, and those pretty panties that just barely peeked out from the way you sat, it only spurred her need further. she needed you, and she needed you now.

she set the glass previously full of water down into the empty sink, eyes trained on you. her fingers gripped the edge of the counter, you were so hot and you weren’t even trying. river let out a huff of air, pushing herself away from the counter. you looked up at her as she made her way across the living room, sitting down right next to you.

“hmm?” you hum, returning your attention to the laptop in your lap. river shrugged, her shoulder rubbing against yours as she did so. you look over to her, the familiar look of want painted on her face. her eyes were darker than their usual shade of brown, a slight pout on her lips, it sent a wave of heat throughout your body. you sigh, “river, i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s up,” you whisper, setting your laptop down on the coffee table.

its quiet for a moment, river’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “just need you s’ bad,” she murmured, leaning closer to you and pressing featherlight kisses against your neck. she takes your soft hand into hers and guides it to cup her cunt, a soft whine falling from her lips.

“fuck,” you mumble, eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of her hardly clothed cunt.

“you won’t even have to do anything, i’ll do all the work, just need you s’bad.” her voices is breathy and needy against your ear.

“fine,” you mutter. river smiles against your neck. she’s quick to pull her underwear off and straddle your lap. you cant help but run a finger through her wet folds.

“fuck,” she hisses, bucking against your fingertips. she grabs hold of your wrist, guiding you to her dripping hole. she sinks down on your fingers, grinding into the palm of your hand, drawing a needy moan from her lips.

she bounces on your fingers, grinding so your fingers hit that spongey spot that has her eyes rolling back. “you’re such a slut riv,” you mumble, curling your fingers as she grinds into your palm. “so fucking needy, look at you, your fucking yourself on my fingers.” her walls flutter around your fingers at you degrading words. a high pitched whine leaves her throat at your teasing words.

she keeps a steady pace for a few minutes before she’s breathless, moans falling from her lips. she wraps her fingers around your wrist, guiding you to fuck in and out of her. “please, can’t do it, need your help s’bad,” she whispers. you let out a humored huff of air.

“really? said you’d do it all by yourself and look at you now.” you roll your eyes at her and her walls flutter around your fingers once more.

“stop being mean, please js’ help me,” she whines, contouring to fuck herself with your fingers.

“really want me to stop being mean? i know you like it, don’t try to hide it,” you mumble. river groans at your words, letting go of your wrist to continue riding your fingers. your free hand is quick to grip her hip to halt her movements.

you curl your fingers inside of her, your free hand lifting her shirt over her breasts. you wrap your lips around her nipple, fucking your fingers in and out of her at a fast pace. moans fall from river’s lips uncontrollably as your thumb moves to circle her clit roughly.

“fuck.. fuck- i’m so close, please, can i? please js’,” her words are cut off by a loud moan, “i’m gonna cum, please, baby. need to cum so bad,” she whispers, her fingers wrapping in your hair.

you let off of her nipple with a loud pop, looking up at her blown out eyes. “go on, slut. cum on my fingers,” you murmur. her eyes roll back and her orgasm washes over her.

“fuckfuckfuck,” she whines, bucking into your palm helplessly.

“such a fuckin’ slut,” you murmur, pulling your fingers from her leaking cunt. she whines at the emptiness, head falling to your shoulder.

“needed you s’ bad, baby. you dont even know, fuck,” she whispers, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

reblogs much appreciated :D

[dragonslovecoins]

Accountability---

[Wrote this when I was inspired by the Pauline drama, and @deniizor pointed out Halt's behavior towards Will. We never see it make much of an effect on Will, and because of that it gets largely excused, and I have observed such 'little' things are not often talked about unless they had a more severe effect. Just thought it was interesting and made a little fic. Tried to keep it in character but I fear Halt is anlittle out of character, forgive me!! \(TxT)/]

“Will, I want to talk.”

Will looked up from his new arrow. Halt’s expression was decidedly blank, but his eyes were stormy and downcast.

“Of course. What’s wrong?” Will questioned, setting his arrow down. Halt came in, his steps light and nervous, but determined. He sat beside Will and took a breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Will was confused. He furrowed his brow.

“For…what?” He asked. Halt sighed.

“For how I treat you. You know…the threats to tan you hide and the like.” Halt murmured, looking ashamed. Now Will was even more confused.

“You’re…fine?” He answered. “It’s not like you ever actually did it.”

Halt shook his hand, taking one of Will’s hands.

“Will, that doesn’t make it okay. I shouldn’t have threatened you.” He grumbled. Halt was never an emotional man, and even now he was partially closed off from him. His expression stayed blank, his eyes holding all the emotion he wanted to express but couldn’t. Will gave a pause at that, thinking back on his time as Halt’s apprentice. Halt threatened it, but never laid a hand on him. The threat wore off rather quickly, and Will never found reason to be scared or threatened by it.

“I’m not hurt by it,” Will replied after a moment, squeezing Halt’s hand. “But I’m glad you’re talking with me about this. I forgive you.”

Halt sighed softly through his nose, glancing away. Clearly he still felt guilt about it.

“Halt. It’s not that serious.”

“It is. I never hit you, but it hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt, though.” Will said firmly. “I forgive you. It’s serious, but compared to everything else–”

“You shouldn’t be comparing everything else you’ve been through to my actions.”

Halt’s voice was harsh, probably harsher than he intended, but it was enough to make Will stop and consider. It’s true, Will realized, even if what Halt said had minimal effect on him, especially when compared to everything else Will has been through, it was still wrong of the older ranger. Will couldn’t find it in him to actually be mad at the ranger, but Will was happy that Halt took the time out to come apologize.

“...I get what you’re saying. Thank you for apologizing.” Will leaned against Halt’s shoulder. “I don’t hate you.”

Halt gave a snort when Will leaned against him, but he ruffled his hair. Will looked up at him.

“What spurred this on, anyways?” Will questioned.

“I was…worried for you.” He mumbled, voice lowering with bashfulness. “I heard Pauline mention that little behaviors could be excused in relationships, and that the parents often began excusing such behaviors that may also be demonstrated when saying stuff like threats. I couldn’t allow you to continue thinking my actions were okay.”

Will raised an eye at the older ranger. It was a well known fact that Halt spoke more formally when he spoke, due to the Araluen language not being his first. He had heard Halt speak like this when he was furious at Gilan once, but never again until now.

“...’demonstrated’? When have you ever used that word in casual conversation?” Will replied after a pause, trying to take the conversation away from the stifling seriousness. Halt was never one to take the bait, however.

“Don’t try and distract me.” Halt grumbled. Will was now the one to sigh.

“Halt, relax. I’m not mad,” Will protested, encasing Halt in a hug. Halt stiffened, but surprisingly let him hug him, even patting his back for a moment before drawing away. Halt was clearly done with the emotional talk.

“Look, just…I’m sorry. And I care about you. And don’t let people treat you how I did, because that’s wrong,” Halt spoke, voice quick and awkward, but sincere. He toyed with the strings on his shirt, and Will smiled.

“I won’t. And I forgive you.” He assured him.

Halt nodded, standing and returning to the doorway. He paused and glanced back at Will.

“I love you, son.” He grumbled, unable to look Will in the eye. Will was taken aback, but then grinned, eyes glinting with mischief.

“I love you too, dad. And I’m telling Gilan you said that.” He teased. Halt huffed, back to the grumpy ranger Will knew and loved.

“Do that and you’ll be mucking the stables all week.” Halt growled, but knew well that Will would challenge that.

And they both knew Halt would never. Because Halt loved his son.

[frozenjokes]

A Meeting Of Three Future Pirates (i enjoyed this little scene and wanted to draw a little thing)

in which Scar refuses to tell Mumbo his name, and Grian is determined to get an answer

Ao3 Link for the fic!

***

Luckily, the day passed without incident. That is, until Mumbo turned around and Grian was gone.

Gone and already halfway across the docks towards Pirate- for goodness sakes, what did Mumbo expect! Why had he described him so accurately? Not that it was difficult to pick Pirate out in a crowd, he stood out just as much as Mumbo did- augh! And now, here Mumbo was with an armful of cleaning supplies, bumbling while Grian was making a beeline towards a bad decision.

“Hello there, sir! Might I have a moment of your time?” Grian spoke before Mumbo could, and Pirate, quick as ever, wasted no time before turning around.

“Well hello there! What might a mysterious cloaked figure such as yourself be looking for?” The salesman lilt was in full display, Pirate facing Grian with open arms. Grian turned briefly back to Mumbo with a quick wink. Oh god. Mumbo dropped what he was carrying and hurried forward, but stopped in a strangled breath as he opened his mouth. He couldn’t call either of their names; he didn’t even know Pirate’s, but Grian’s was just as bad to yell on a crowded dock. Mumbo didn’t get to make a decision before Grian continued.

“A name, if you have one,” Grian smirked, and Mumbo couldn’t see his face, but he knew Grian was smirking, “See, I’m here on behalf of Mumbo Jumbo, we’re acquaintances-“

“His last name is Jumbo?”

“Yes, it’s very silly-”

“I don’t think so! Well, I do think so a little bit, but in a good way! It’s kind of whimsical, yeah? You guys are friends? Ah, that makes sense. He gets so worked up about the name thing it’s- oh! There he is behind you! Hello Mum-”

“Shut it!” Grian pointed hard at Pirate’s face, so aggressively, his hood nearly came off, but other than a quiet ‘oh, okay,’ Pirate didn’t look discouraged at all. Quite the contrary actually, which could only be an awful sign- “I’m here for your name, and if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna tell you what he’s called you.”

“Gri- G- Please don’t do that!” Mumbo tried, but only Pirate paid him any mind, smiling and waving in a fashion that made his heart beat a little faster.

Pirate laughed, clearly irritating Grian, though he didn’t give any indication that he noticed, only looking back at him brightly, “Funny coincidence! I was actually wondering about that! I’ve tried asking, I’ve even offered to guess, but Mumbo doesn’t have the same appreciation for games that I do. Just between you and I though, secretly, I think he likes guessing-”

Mumbo bristled, unable to help himself, “I do not like guessing!” but even Pirate ignored him this time, Grian holding all of his attention.

“I wouldn’t be so sure you want to know.”

“Oh believe me, I do! Not much phases me, I’ll tell you that much. Go ahead and hit me!” Pirate was clearly not prepared for Grian to take that literally, but Mumbo winced as he said it, knowing full well Grian could never help himself, and sure enough, his fist landed squarely in Pirate’s gut before Mumbo could even say a word of warning. Pirate gasped, folding over, but Grian jumped back like he’d been stung, eyes wide under his cloak.

“PIRATE!! PIRATE!! HELP!!”

If Grian had any talent at all, it was pointing and screaming. The dock erupted, sailors and fishermen and everyone else having returned from their trips for the evening, all spurred into action by the shrill (and if Mumbo was being honest, quite feminine sounding) scream. Mumbo, only a close distance away by now, ran forward in an attempt to help, but despite being stronger than most people tended to assume, he was no match against the beefy, adrenaline filled sailors with everything to lose.

[rock-n-macabre]

hiii!! if you want to, what are some headcanons you have for severen💗💗

Howdy, Anon! 🖤✨ I absolutely loved this ask - thank you ! Severen is definitely an enigma of a man and it was a blast to write these HCs for him! I wanted to write him in a different light - as much as I would want lovey Sevvy because lovey Sevvy is adorbs 🖤 - I decided to play with the reckless bad boy side.

Hope this is ok!

(also y'all please don't hesitate to send more requests - I'm happy and honored to write for y'all!)

---------- .🩸✨🩸. ------------

Severen Van Sickle HC's

🩸 Hard toss up if Severen bought or made his necklace himself. A part of me wants to say Mae made it for him as a thank you for him showing her how to shoot a gun.

🩸High chance of him being besties with the likes of Johnny Ringo and the cowboys before he was turned in Tombstone,AZ.

🩸As much as i'd want to say Severen would be head over heels for someone , he probably mistakens the feeling for that of lust. Wanna be turned? Best recommendation for your 'Survive Severen' plan would be to come up with something wild.. either an action or say some wildness to catch him off guard so that you're not bled out. Boom. Turned. He may be a little cranky pants at first because he is king of one night stands, but he stays true to code and would take one under his wing as his mate.

🩸When he is yours.....look out. I feel like it's a common HC for him to be territorial as all get out, and lawd help anyone who dares to make eyes at you. Also massive sex fiend. Bathroom quickies are a must.

🩸But behind this primal man..RAWR-apex- predator- rabid -possum man... lies one of the most loyal guys that will legit go through hell and back for you. Oh, he forgot something? He'll gladly do it again and be back with bells on.

🩸As much as I want to believe he gets sentimental like anyone would be open with their partner...I feel as if the moment he begins to , he feels vulnerable and will catch himself before fully letting his walls down. Cherish the small moments .

🩸When he got hit by the 18 wheeler, he probably checked another near death experience off his bucket list. Boyo is definitely as much of a masochist as he is a sadist. He will definitely get half cooked and be like "imma do it again!".

🩸I feel as if you got to mate status he would definitely find it attractive if you go in for a neck nibble on him . He'd either a) be smitten because that's a turn on to him or b) be taken aback and full defensive mode all like stay away from uncharted grounds!

🩸He definitely would want to feed off his mate. Now....you miiiiiiight have to pull him off of you so you don't get drained too much, but he likes the closeness and territorial side of the act.

🩸Now feeding off him? He'd expect you to hunt for yourself (he would love hunting together) ..he wants you to fit in and get the seal of approval. But if you get injured badly and need some blood to help recoup quicker? He might make an exception. As noted above, he might be into it if you can reach that level of intimacy with him 🖤

🩸Would 10/10 give you his spur. That's the same as a ring to him. Would hunt Caleb back down or steal it right off his boot (if Caleb stayed with the Hooker clan and didn't pull his BS) to give to his mate. You're all his, par'ner.

🩸Even though yeah he would be a goof around his mate to always captivate their attention...and yeah he can also act aloof in public towards prey....it's a front. The dude is actually super smart. He's an apex predator.....if he blew his cover right off the bat, what fun would that be? He's calculating, devious and knows things....even before he was turned, swaying people wasnt his first rodeo. He wrote the book on it.

🩸Does he have a vampire ex out there? Probably not. Dude has a hard time drawing the line when feeding. Go all in.....go big or go home. No work goes unfinished. There's a tragic romantic part of me that has the HC of Severen might have had a love interest before he was turned. When Jesse turned him, Severen didn't know how to control this new insatiable thirst and drained his mate. Could also play into a possibility as to why he could never get close to someone again from the past trauma....he won't admit to it, but it's there.

[kwanisms]

All You Have to Do is Ask - k.jh

summary: your boyfriend ruined dinner

pairing: female reader x yesung

genres/themes: idolverse, established relationship, smut (minors dni), fluff at the end, yesung's real name is Jong-hoon (for those that don't know)

EDIT: I know he changed it (again) to Kang-hoon. I'll change it eventually lol

wc: 1.5k

warnings: explicit language, graphic sex, mentions of alcohol, slight praise kink, some dirty talk, unprotected sex (use protection!), creampie, and I'm including this in the warnings: Yesung is an older idol, so if the idea of having sex with someone near 40 bothers you, don't read this lmao I'm like 9 years younger than him so it doesn't bother me to read or write for older idols

a/n: hi, this is my first SuJu smut so pls be gentle. SUPER JUNIOR IS A 2ND GEN KPOP GROUP AND AS SUCH, THEY ARE THE OLDEST GROUP I'M WRITING FOR. IF THEIR AGES BOTHER YOU, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE LOL I'M ALMOST 30 SO THEY ARENT MUCH OLDER THAN ME AND IF THAT BOTHERS YOU, GET OFF MY BLOG. We don't accept ageism here. this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. gif isnt mine. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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[21:18]

Ruined. That was the only word for it. Dinner was completely ruined and it was all your boyfriend's fault.

He'd gone out immediately after practice to grab a bottle of wine before coming home to your shared apartment. You had told him you were making your favorite pasta for dinner and were excited for him to try it.

What you hadn't expected was him to come home, bottle of wine in hand only to slam the bottle on the counter and jump you the moment his eyes landed on you.

You should have expected it honestly. You knew your black dress was a little short, barely reaching the middle of your thighs and you can only imagine how frustrated he must have been to immediately start attacking your neck in wet kisses, tongue running over your skin as his hands grabbed the material of your dress in his fists before he pulled you from the stove and turned you against the counter to kiss you properly.

It was only a few moments later he had you bent over the same counter, skirt hiked up, panties ripped off and lying in a mangled mess on the hardwood floor. Your boyfriend stood behind you, one hand on your hip, the other holding your dress in a clenched fist as he thrust into you from behind.

You buried your head in your arm, moans tumbling from your lips as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your sensitive spot. "Fuck," you heard him curse from behind you, voice barely audible of the sound of skin hitting skin filling the kitchen. "Goddamn, baby," he growled.

You glanced over your shoulder, peering back at Yesung, the sight of him losing himself completely sending more heat to your core and your walls clenched around him, spurring him on. You loved when he gave himself over to pleasure entirely.

The way his brow furrowed, the way he bit his bottom lip as he tried to focus on the quality of his thrusts. It was always quality over quantity with him in everything he did. He preferred to do things right rather than how quickly he could do them.

And that extended into sex with you.

Every angled thrust and slow deep roll of his hips made you see stars from beginning to end. He knew your body. He knew every inch of skin, knew how to tease you, how to draw out the most lewd sounds from you, whether it was with his tongue, his fingers, or his cock.

Your head dropped, a slew of moans and causes falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm approaching. Yesung must have felt it in the way your walls convulsed around him as he continued to pound into you, savoring the sight of himself disappearing inside you.

He hadn't planned on fucking you as soon as he got home. The plan was to take a shower while you finished cooking and then join you for a nice home-cooked meal and a glass of wine but when he saw you in that black dress, the short one that barely covered your ass and left your thighs completely exposed, he just couldn't hold back.

Practice had been particularly rough, tensions high amongst him and the other members as they prepared for their comeback. Heechul had been getting on their nerves, making snarky comments from the side whenever someone got the choreography wrong despite him not even dancing with them.

They had ended practice a little earlier than usual because they were all tired, annoyed, and tense. When Yesung had seen your text that you were making him dinner and asked you to pick up a nice bottle of red, he jumped at the chance to finally unwind after the last few days.

He didn't expect that he'd be fucking his frustrations out but you didn't seem to be complaining with how you moaned out his name, his real name, your hands trying to hold onto something to ground yourself against the onslaught of his hips but the smooth surface of the white marble countertops made that entirely impossible, leaving you to the mercy of his grip.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" he growled, voice low and husky. You let out a whimper, shaking your head quickly. "N-no," you stammered, your voice shaky. "I swear I d-didn't."

"Why else would you wear something so short?" he asked, giving you a particularly hard thrust, making you cry out. "If not to tease me, then what? Were you expecting someone else to see?" Yesung grunted, ignoring a bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face. Though he'd cooled off from practice, here he was sweating all over again.

Though he'd much rather be fucking you than stuck in the practice room with eight other men, all as crabby as he was.

"N-no!" you mewled, letting out a gasp when you felt Yesung's hand grab your hair and tug you back, his other hand moving to cup your chin as he leaned over your back. "Did you expect me to bring home the guys?" he murmured in your ear, sending chills down your spine. "N-no, Jong-hoon, I swear," you squeaked out. You heard him hum in your ear, the hand in your hair moving around to the front of your body, pressing against your stomach, pulling you against him as he continued to thrust into you hard and slow.

"So you'd never wear this for any of them?" he asked, holding back a chuckle when you shook your head. "Never. Only f-for you," you whimpered. "You're such a good girl," he cooed, his voice sweet in contrast with the way his hips moved, driving his cock deeper and deeper into your wet cunt.

"Are you gonna be a good little slut and come for me?" he whispered. You nodded quickly. "I'm gonna cum, Hoonie," you moaned, the nickname making him groan as he let go of your chin and wrapped both arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he hastily chased his high.

It only took a few more hard thrusts before you toppled over the edge, coming with a cry of his name, walls squeezing around his cock as his thrusts turned sloppy. "M'gonna come, baby," he mumbled, lips brushing against your skin.

"Then come for me," you answered, voice still shaky. "Come inside me." Yesung let out a moan, urged by your words as he came, releasing inside you and filling you with his thick load. Every time he came inside you, it was always more than when he came alone or when he finished on your skin.

His hips slowly came to a halt as you both tried to catch your breath. "Shit," he cursed, carefully letting go of you. You let yourself drop against the cool surface of the counter, enjoying the cold marble against your hot, sweaty skin. "I'm so sorry," you heard Yesung say and you looked over your shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sorry?" You asked. "Sorry for what?"

Yesung looked over at the frying pan on the stove. "For ruining dinner," he answered, his cock still buried inside you. You shook your head, a light chuckle slipping between your lips. "It's fine, honey," you said, pushing yourself up.

Yesung took a step back, slipping out of you as he grabbed one of the decorative kitchen towels and ran it under the faucet for a moment before bringing it to your soaked core. "I also made a mess," he added as he carefully wiped your skin.

"You always make a mess," you answered as he finished and threw the towel in the sink, pulling his boxers and sweats back up, looking up only when you turned to face him. You didn't know how he managed to look so good all the time, nor how it was fair. His flushed face, skin glistening in the overhead kitchen lights, messy hair and those thin framed, round glasses that you loved on him so much.

You reached forward, grabbing him by the waistband of his sweats and pulled him forward, lips finding his as you pulled his body against yours. You pulled back enough to speak. "We can order in," you said softly, gently nudging his nose with yours. "Whatever you want, baby," he answered, kissing the tip of your nose before a cheeky smile broke out across his face. "And change your dress. I might not be able to resist you again later," he added. You shook your head.

"I'm not changing out of this if it gets me fucked like that again," you replied. Yesung let out a loud laugh at your remark. "Baby, if you want to be fucked like that," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

"All you have to do is ask."

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[marleysfinest]

Congrats on 300, Mar!!

Could I get Jean with the prompt "show me"? Pretty please? 🙏

I'll send some extra deets to you directly 😘

ur wish is my command!

smut below the cut! jean x @ricecrispiebirb! (she/her)

"c'mon," jean purrs as he strokes along your jaw, "show me. I know you wanna."

you dismiss his advances - again - due to the very busy hotel bar you're both sharing a drink in, leant against the cold marble countertop as you look up to meet jean's lustful gaze. this is your first "official" date, but you've been slowly amping up the flirting for weeks on end. he'd brush past you with a graze across your behind, you'd risk an intense make-out session in the little meeting room on the third floor, you'd even let him slip his hands beneath your waistband before pulling away, teasing him in a way that always elicited a groan.

"show you what, exactly?" you ask, laying on the innocence as thick as possible. jean cocks his head as if to say- you really have to ask?

"you've pretty much finished your drink already, let's just go up to my room. it's too loud here, anyway."

you roll your eyes, and knock around the melting ice in your glass, mulling over jean's proposal. on the one hand, you liked teasing him and drawing out those delightful little whines when you take away what he wants, but on the other, you were growing pretty impatient to see what he was hiding beneath the zipper on his trousers. his confidence was unmatched, this much was clear, but would he be able to practice what he preached? without uttering a word you set down your glass on the bar, and slip the bartender a couple of notes to cover your tab. jean stares at you, eyes wide, realising that he'd finally hit the jackpot. you gently take his had, and pull him up from his seat and head to the lobby to take the elevator up to his room.

you whisper sweet nothings to each other the entire ride up, as you let jean caress and hold you, but decide against delivering him a kiss just quite yet. he'd kissed you before, of course, but you both knew that the evening was heading somewhere neither of you had been before with one another, and so you wanted to draw it out as long as you could. besides, it only seemed to make him more desperate. he peppered your neck with kisses, and his warm break on your collarbone and up to your ears sent shivers down your spine. he's barely able to unlock the door to his room through anticipation, his fingers practically trembling with the anticipation.

once the door is closed, you take a moment to bask in the silence and reality of finally being alone with jean. for all your teasing and drawing the situation out, you had to admit to yourself that you want this as much as he does. he gazes down at you as he steps nearer, brushing a hair from your face.

"you gonna show me now?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, and you swear you feel your breath hitch. you offer no resistance when he rests his palm on your cheek and leans in to kiss you with ferocity. once he susses that you're returning his passion, he wastes no time in making a move to rid you of your clothes. he's unzipped the back of your dress and slipped the spaghetti straps down from your shoulders. you let yourself succumb to him and take the lead, gently pushing you down onto the bed, sinking into the soft bedsheets. you barely have time to take a breath when he's placed his hand between your legs, circling your heat firmly with his long fingers. a groan leaves your throat, spurring him on, and when he slips your panties to one side you feel yourself tense.

"you ok?" he asks, sensing the change in your posture. you nod, unaware of how much your hold on him had change, instantly letting your muscles react.

"sorry," you whisper, "just... didn't think this would be happening tonight.

jean offers you a smile, and lets his fingers find his way to your folds again, revelling in how wet you already are.

"let me relax you then," he whispers, effortlessly slipping two fingers inside, "it's the least I can do."

[notyour-valentine]

A Fair Exchange XL ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)

[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: Aemonds proposal puts our Princess in a tough spot

Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

[Series Masterlist]

Previously

Part XL

“It is a good plan. It is the best we have to make sure you get to safety. Deliver Jaehaera to Helaena for me, will you?”, he asked, giving her hands a little squeeze.

There was such finality in his voice.

“What about you?”, she asked.

He shrugged.

“I’ll find my way out of Dorne.”

All the while he had avoided meeting her gaze, his head lowered, his eye downcast, each word coming out mumbled yet certain.

She wanted to hit him. The urge came suddenly, from somewhere deep inside her, right along with a desire to scream. She wanted to slap him across the face with all her might, to shake him until his teeth rattled, to scream at him until he saw sense again.

But no matter how a blood curdling screech itched at the back of her throat, she couldn’t, not without drawing attention to them.

“How?”, she demanded to know through clenched teeth, not trusting her voice with much more lest her inner turmoil seize control of it to both their detriment.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reminding her that he was still wearing his boots, his heavy leather boots that seemed glued to his feet.

The fact that they still graced his feet now was proof that this decision was not a spur of the moment thing. Otherwise he would have left them with Luke and Jaehaera, for, despite their uses, they were not for swimming.

Now there was no doubt that he had planned this, had led her on in a game of make believe all the while knowing he was going to abandon them, going to betray her.

“How?”, she repeated, her voice trembling as all of her began to shake.

His hands had held her own gently but now hers tightened to the point it made them wince, but she refused to lessen her grip.

“Why do you care?”, he snapped, a lightning of rage appearing in his eye for but a heartbeat.

Why do you care?

How could he ask that? Now? After everything? After stilling her shaking hands when they were still coated in blood? After dropping the body of the guard into the sea? After all they had done, all they had seen, all they had survived to get here.

And now he sought to just leave her…just like that, without a fight, without a struggle, without a heroic last stand. No, Aemond Targaryen was content to simply slip away into the night, to leave her and the others to their fates.

“Go now. Luke is waiting.”, he urged, almost gently, but she could tell his tone was off. He was a fool if he thought she would fall for his feigned lightheartedness.

They hadn’t come this far to separate. Not now. Not yet.

“No.”, she said, glaring up at him in pure defiance and resentment.

“What did you say?”, he asked, leaning in as if it had been the volume of her voice that caused his confusion.

“I will not go.”, she stated, searching his face for any trace of a reaction.

She could see the quiver of his lip, the twitch in his jaw muscle, the narrowing of his eye.

“You have to! Luke is waiting, and he won’t leave without you!”

By the sound of him she was the greatest fool in the Seven Kingdoms for not already being halfway to the boat. How comical, since he was the only one acting the jester, and a poor one at that.

“He’ll have to wait because I won’t go alone.”, she insisted.

She could see him bristle at her word,his eye darting out into the darkness as if to make out the ship in the black of night.

“You are putting all our lives at risk with your stubbornness.”, he snarled, anger laced in with his impatience.

“The only one being stubborn is you! What in seven hells are you thinking? You said it yourself - this is the only way.”

The look on his face told her that he still believed that, and that he had no alternative plan lined up, that he had intended on leaving them to her fate while returning to complete uncertainty.

“You don’t understand-”

“You’re right I don’t!”, she snapped, cutting him off. “And we don’t have time for you to so graciously share your genius!”

The breath she took had the aim of calming her. It did little of the sort but calmed her voice.

“You said you know how to swim? The motions…?”, she asked.

Aemond hesitated for a moment before giving the faintest of nods. “But it’s not enough.”

“It will have to be enough.”, she insisted. “You know the motions. It’s the same over and over.”

She glanced down at him. “Besides, you are…trained, are you not?”

He had been strong enough to carry Luke through Sunspear at night for hours, had held her as she lowered them down the castle walls, had guarded and protected them only to shrink away from the sea of all things in fear.

“Why are you being difficult?”, Aemond hissed, yanking his hand away.

She reached up and grabbed his arm.

“Because I refuse to abandon you!”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“You are not abandoning me. In any case, you are abandoning Luke, who will-”

“Oh shut up!”, she snapped at him, as loud as the night would allow. It was far too easy to see through his ploy, to guilt her into leaving him behind in order for Luke, to force her to make a choice she didn’t have to make in the first place.

“Shut up, Aemond!”, she hissed, the man in question looking baffled at her insolence. He deserved more than rudeness now, for his idiocy. “I can’t and I won’t, not after everything.”

She shook her head. “We’ll go back together, go home together. Like we said!”

She had repeated that mantra over and over as if to speak it into existence, and if she backtracked even slightly on her promise to the heavens, she feared they would yank it all from her grasp and send them all into damnation.

“Don’t do this to me, Aemond!”, she asked, her voice cracking under the strain.

Whether she had worn him down or whether her voice failing her that made Aemond fall silent, she did not know, but he was silent once more, glancing at his feet.

She could feel he was scared.

Reaching up, she barely brushed her hand against his cheek to look at her.

“We’ll be fine, Aemond!”, she promised him, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the edge. They would be fine. They would have to be.

She sat down on the edge, with him next to her, and the fact that he did nearly made her weep with relief.

“Your boots…they’ll weigh you down.”, she said.

For a dreadful moment she feared that this would change his mind but then he reached down, undid the clasps and slipped them off one by one.

Once they sank to the bottom, she pushed herself off of the edge and into the water. At this time of night, it was refreshingly cool. Her hand remained on the edge, waiting with baited breath.

Slowly, Aemond let himself slip into the water as well, inhaling sharply.

Instead of pushing herself off and beginning to swim at her pace, she waited for Aemond to begin.

After a nod from her, he began, with strong and steady breaststrokes, though not nearly as quick as she would have liked.

He was slow, but he swam, and that would have to be good enough.

She let him set the pace as she looked out into the night, searching for the occasional glimmer of light that would be their own little lighthouse.

~

Aemond tried desperately to remember every lesson he had ever had, to breathe in when he pulled his arms back, and out when he pushed them forward. Or had it been the other way?

He could not tell whether they had swam for but a moment, or half an eternity. All he felt was the tightness in his chest, the taste of salt on his lips and the stinging around his sapphire eye.

That was the waves doing that came, hitting the side of his face, making him gasp and cough for air.

How anyone would ever voluntarily do this, was beyond him. There was even a religion on the Iron Islands, where they worshipped the drowned god, leading all their priests out to see and holding them under until they were closer to death than life.

Aemond recalled the images he had seen of this deity, with a grey beard laced with seaweed, with shells and driftwood intertwined, looming under the sea and feasting on sailors who fell prey to the dangers of the sea, some by accident, some by vanity.

It was nearly pitch black, but Aemond could almost see the red eyes looking up from beneath the waves, as if to await him.

The thought spurred him on to swim faster, quicker, moving his legs and arms as much as he could in an attempt to just get on.

But the opposite was happening. It was as if he was stuck, frozen between the waves as his chest grew ever tighter, and his limbs ever heavier.

It was as if a weight had reached for him from below, pulling him down.

He thrashed to get it away from him as someone called his name, but Aemond did not know if that came from the heavens above or the Drowned God below.

While still kicking, he felt a touch on his arm and pulled away so forcefully, his head broke through the surface, his mouth filling with salt water.

He thrashed more, in an attempt to put distance between him and anything that was touching him, dragging him down, but the more he tried, the fewer the gasps of air became.

The salt burned in his eyes, on his hands, in the back of his throat, and when he tried to breathe, only water filled his mouth and Aemond knew he was drowning.

There was no longer a way to know where up was, not in this darkness. The skies were just as black as the pits of the sea and both had conspired to trap him forever.

Everything was dark, everything was a hell created just to torment him. And Aemond knew he deserved it. He deserved hell for killing the man tonight, and the fat one back in Dorne, for being a resentful son and a jealous brother, for tormenting her and causing her pain.

And this was a hell just for him.

Still, Aemond was still kicking, his arms flaring at everything and nothing until he found something his hands could coil around, something he could pull himself towards. Upwards, he realised as he used all his weight, upwards.

Breaking through the surface,, he gasped for air, only to realise he was sinking again.

Bubbles slipped past his lips, wasting precious air as he searched around blindly for what he had used to push him up, finding it once more, or something else, what mattered was he found something to brace himself against to reach the surface once more.

Something, anything - only Aemond knew there was nothing. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to pull himself up with, unless that something was her.

If I’m pushing myself up on her, I’m pushing her down, he realised. If I’m pulling myself to the surface using her, I’m drowning her in my stead.

He felt the all familiar heat of torment rise inside him, the kind that would make his skin burn, his chest tighten and his hands tremble, only this time he had no air to give.

I’m killing her, he thought. I’m drowning her. My hands are the ones that end her life.

Just like in his nightmares, only they weren’t nightmares, not anymore.

White dots began to appear in his vision, shining brightly against the darkness. They were familiar to him from frightful nights past and he forced himself to focus on them, as he felt his body grow heavier.

Don’t fight it, he told himself. Fighting means dragging her down with me.

At least, if it wasn't too late.

His body was aflame with desperation, wishing to fight until he had no more, to put up a heroic last stand against the elements, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, but at what cost?

No, he couldn’t…he wouldn’t…if it was the last thing he ever did, Aemond would not drag her down with him.

If he hadn’t been surrounded by nothing but water, Aemond Targaryen may have wept.

And maybe he did, for only when the droplets ran into his mouth past his parted lips, did he realise he could still breathe, despite the choking, wretched coughs that shook his whole body.

Though it was a fruitless effort in the water, his body attempted to keel over in an attempt to aid the pressure on his upper chest as he gagged and splattered.

Only then did he realise there was a hand on his jaw, holding it in a firm grip. And another on the back of his head.

Panic surged inside him until he realised the hands were neither pushing nor pulling him, just holding him.

And the hands were warm.

In a world of cold water and biting salt that tore at his lips, buried itself into the scar around his lost eye, while scorching his lungs, those hands were warm..

As he coughed, gushes of salt water ran down his chin and over the hands that held his head steady. And the coughing stayed even after the water subsided.

Yet the ache remained, but with more frequent breaths, despite his racing heartbeat, he felt his senses returning.

"I'm sorry.", He gasped, his throat aching with any attempt to speak.

Another wave of coughs came over him, making his chest seize up.

As soon as this fit subsided, he tried again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.", He mumbled.

"Can you hear me, Aemond?", She asked. "I need you to answer me, with words."

"Yes.", He said, the sound of her voice feeling as warm to him as her hands, although it too was breathless and strained.

"I've got you. It's alright. I've got you, you just have to stay still.", She assured him. "Relax your body, I've got you."

He tried, but he couldn't. His whole body was aching, and each splash of water against his face made the bubbling fear boil over.

"I've got you!", She assured him, and though he could not see her, he heard her voice, could feel her hands on his face, and hear her breaths.

They were as steady as if dictated to by a metron, and in the absence of her words, they were all he could rely on. And he did, awaiting their whispering sounds, counting them, and later, trying to sync his shaking breaths to it.

Only after a while did Aemond gather his senses to realise they were moving, or rather, she was moving them.

"I'm sorry.", He whispered again.

He didn't dare ask to be let go for fear he would slip from her grasp into the darkness beneath, but he had to help her.

With her hands holding him up, her legs were the ones doing all the work and once he thought on it, he could feel them kicking beneath him.

"I'm sorry.", He said again, trying to move his legs to help her.

"You're well, Aemond?", She asked. "Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you.", He assured her.

"We're nearly there. Were nearly there, Aemond.", she promised him.

The first time he saw the flicker of light he didn't trust his senses, remembering tales of shipwrecked sailors seeing ships come nearly daily, as their weakened minds sought to torment them.

But she seemed determined to follow or, and she was the one moving them both.

When her hand left the back of his head, icy fear crashed over him like an avalanche, only to realise she had reached for something that lay in the water, pulling the rope towards them.

"Can you keep yourself upright for a moment?", She asked. "Only a moment, then I can help you again. Just move your legs steadily!",

He tried, for her, but the absence of her warmth made his heart thunder so fiercely he feared it would rip from his chest.

In the darkness he could barely make out more than her silhouette as she reached around him, fastening the rope around his waist.

How she made the knot in the water, without view or vision, he did not know, but it held firm.

As his hands closed around the rope, he felt more relieved than ever to feel the rough fibre rub against his palm. To him there had never been a sweeter sting, for he could feel it was connected to something, and when he pulled at the rope, he could pull himself forward, inch by painful inch until he realised they were almost within touching distance of the hull of a ship.

Her hands brushed along its end until she found what she had been looking for.

"Here!", She told him, her voice slightly slurred as she guided his hand to the end of a rope ladder.

Aemond wanted nothing more than to finally feel anything beneath his feet than water, yearning for the stability of even the thinnest of woods, but something told him to still his haste.

"You first!", He told her, moving to the side slightly.

He was facing her dragon eye, white and amber even in the night, of the other though, he only caught a glimpse through her half hooded eye and that looked nearly completely white.

Her hands, that had tied the rope around his waist with such certainty, now fumbled to find a grip, any grip of their own.

But she pulled herself up ahead of him.

Aemond could feel her limbs trembling before him, and saw her hands slipping again and again.

T'was on the third or fourth step when her hands slipped once more, only this time her footing wasn't strong enough to catch her.

She crashed down into Aemond, who grunted at the impact, his hand twisting itself around the rope ladder to now hold both their weight as the other grabbed a fistful of her shirt, pulling her up only so much as to trap her between the ship and his body to keep her from falling.

At the best of times it would have been an easy thing to carry her, but these were far from the best of times and he wasn't even sure he had enough strength to pull himself up the ship, let alone her too.

"Luke!", He called upward into the darkness. "You have to help her!"

The sight of his nephew appearing on the side of the ship nearly brought him to tears.

"Get her up!", Aemond pleaded, pushing her up as much as he was still able to.

Her body was limp and trembling, and he wasn't even sure she was able to hear him.

Once he could, Luke grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up out of his sight.

Aemond leaned his head against the ship, taking a few breaths.

He was beyond exhausted, but he couldn't rest just yet. A few more steps, that was all it was, but just slipping off into slumber was so tempting it took all his will to grit his teeth and pull himself up step by agonising step.

When he finally felt his hands on the edges he pulled himself up and let his drained body tip over, hitting the deck in a thump.

But it was the deck, and that was all that mattered.

There he lay as he had fallen, for a handful of heartbeats of maybe a hundred more. It was the feeling of movement to his side that made him look.

He had held her for but a moment, but she had held him for Gods know how long, and she was smaller than he was, and frailer, so much frailer.

Every muscle and bone screamed in protest as he pushed himself up, stumbling over to where Luke had laid her on her back.

"To her side.", He mumbled, his knee hitting the deck. "It'll help her breathe."

He had learned from his hours in the training yard, from pushing his body well beyond the suitable, to the point of aching limbs and restless stomachs.

She would get worse if they didn't steady her properly.

He angled her knee, and her arm as he brought her to lie on her side, placing his head under the side of hers so it would lie on the hard floor.

With the other he reached for her neck, feeling the rapid and racing pulsing of her heart.

"I'm sorry.", He whispered again

~

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts xx

House of the Dragon Taglist

@crazylokonugget @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @rapoficeandfire @sabii5 @itsdanajane16 @cynic-spirit @dark-night-sky-99 @madislayyy @lightdragonrayne @severewobblerlightdragon

[crescentblossom66]

Bond of the Beasts Chapter 11

“Hey, do you think she's awake? Her ear was twitching.” The voice of girl, maybe roughly around her age, woke her up earlier than the rays of the sunny day outside could.

“I'm not sure...Do you think that she'd mind if I touch her fluffy ears?” That was a different voice, slightly lower than the first, but still obviously from a young girl. Wait...she had heard those voices before. She immediately sat upright, causing the curly-haired girl to retract her hand that she had moved toward her head. “I'm sorry!” She apologized immediately, likely thinking that she had angered her. Mu jumped out of bed, causing the other two girls to take a step back. She looked between the Hat Kid and Bow Kid for a few seconds, Bow fidgeted under her gaze while Hattie gave a small wave in greeting before she jumped back when the blonde haired girl got in her face showing her sharp teeth.

“I remember you! Why didn't you help me back on that truck?!” Mu pointed at Hattie who nearly jumped back in surprise. When the other didn't answer, Mu put her hands to her hips glaring at her a few more seconds before brusquely walking past Hattie and Bow who were stunned and looked at each other in confusion for a moment.

“I think she meant the day you used your magic to make a key float, the day you saved me and Timmy.” Bow tried to spur Hattie's memory. The young sorceress was hit by a wave of guilt and the happiness that she had felt over the young werewolf girl waking was replaced by her feeling awful about having been unable to save her.

“I would have saved her, but...there...there were too many hunters-” She suppressed a sob, and tried to keep her tears back. “-I panicked, I panicked, so I ran! Am I...Am I a bad person, Bow?” Hattie asked sincerely, still having her head down.

Bow shook her head vehemently denying that claim. “You're not! I know you tried your hardest, it was a bad situation, they could have captured you again.” She hugged her sister tightly.

“I'll make it up to the werewolf girl, I promise.”

While the two sisters were talking about their close encounter with the hunters, Mu made her way downstairs, picking up a pleasant humming tune, that managed to get her out of the frustrated and slightly irritated mindset, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and spied into the kitchen. There, she found an older woman dressed in a chef's outfit, her red hair tied in a ponytail. The young werewolf recalled that the old wereowl she had met yesterday night had told her that she should speak with a red-haired woman, he likely was referring to the quietly humming woman that was preparing some mouth-watering waffles. Thinking that talking to the woman wouldn't hurt, and that she could easily flee if things went south, she approached the kitchen cautiously. Her eyes immediately went to the food, maybe just maybe, she could swipe one or two of the delicious looking baked goods.

“It's good to see you back on your feet, sweetie, I was beginning to think that my potion wasn't working right.” For a moment Mu wondered if the woman had eyes on her back, as she had been trying to sneak in to grab a waffle before drawing attention on herself when the older woman was getting a few plates from the cabinets and had her back turned to her, it seemed like a good opportunity. The blonde girl quickly grabbed a waffle and began eating it, waiting for the scolding or an expression of anger or disappointment, but only got a soft smile and warm gaze as punishment for taking a bite. “Oh, I guess I should make a few more, you must have gotten quite hungry, being unconscious for days.”

“I was out for that long! Those stupid hunters will pay for this!” She flinched as she moved, and the hiss of pain that followed didn't go unnoticed by Cookie, who stepped a bit closer and knelt down to examine the wound, only for the young girl to take a step back. “Hey! Don't get too close or I'll bite!”

Cookie was unfazed by her resistance, even when she let out a low growl as a warning for her to not get any closer. The only thing that calmed the werewolf somewhat was that there seemed to be no malice at all in the eyes of her suspected enemy, her hands were also moving slowly toward her side, much unlike all the other times people had tried to grab her to throw her out, or hurt her. “Please, hold still, I just want to make sure that your injury is healin' alright.” Upon being touched, Mu swiped at the skilled witch out of reflex which caused both parties to gasp, one in pain, the other in shock and surprise.

“I-I didn't mean to...” Even though she still wasn't quite sure if these people meant harm to her, so far they had been nice and she was taking what she could get, but now, she feared, she ruined all the chances she had by hurting the woman who tried to help her.

Cookie grimaced in pain for a moment and looked at her now bleeding arm that showed four cuts from the sharper and sturdier nails that most werebeasts had naturally. Her eyes soften again quickly and the gentle smile returned, much to the surprise of the young werewolf. “It's okay, sweetie, I know you're scared.” Mu tried to put on a brave face, trying to hide her shock about the calm reaction as best she could by taking a step back. The older woman knew that the young girl likely went through the same as most other werebeasts, her tattered clothes and rather defensive actions showed her as much. The tension ease up again when Cookie offered Mu the plate of waffles which the girl eyed rather suspiciously, switching form the plate to look back at the soft looking eyes to see if she could detect even a hint of anything suspicious.

Mu wondered if the wereowl was trying to lead her into a trap, given that he had pointed out that she was supposed to talk to the woman in front of her, maybe these waffles were actually poisoned. The color drained from her face. “They're not poisoned, deary. Do you want proof?” Cookie called Bow and Hattie down from upstairs. When the two girls arrived, she offered them both a waffle, which they took.

“Why did you call us? Is something wrong?” Hattie asked, stuffing the waffle into her mouth while Bow ate a bit slower.

Cookie shook her head slowly. “Just wanted to show our new friend here that my food isn't poisoned.” Mu watched the sorceress and the changeling carefully, wondering if those to were tricked and captured, they looked happy and healthy though. Her eyes fell back on the waffles that were still offered to her and she cautiously picked on up again, instead of eating fast, so it would be taken away from her, she actually enjoyed the flavor for once. It had been weeks since she had eaten something that didn't taste like food that was technically unfit for human consumption. Small tears got to her eyes after she realized for the first time that she might just be safe for once...she turned her face away so no one could see the tears, but it had been to late, one person had seen them.

“No need to cry, you're safe here with us.” Bow had walked over to her and pulled her into a gently hug. “You don't have to be scared or lonely anymore.” Her words only caused more tears to drop down Mu's face, the curly-haired girl's embrace was strangely comforting...when was the last time someone had hugged her?

Seeing that the blonde girl was more scared of adults...no surprise there, Cookie thought it best to keep her distance and let Bow handle the situation for now. She'd wait to ask her questions once the child was more stable again. Cookie noticed that Hattie was a bit standoffish toward the red-clothed girl, now that she was awake. “Is something wrong, Hattie?” She thought it best to call the young sorceress over to her. From what she had seen so far, it was quite unusual for the more open of the two non-biological sisters to be so withdrawn, she almost looked...sad. Cookie brought Hat Kid over to her side, a bit away from the comforting idle chatter about drawing that Bow Kid was trying to involve the blonde girl in. “You look a bit out of it, is something bothering you?”

A sigh escaped the lips of the brown-haired girl who couldn't even look into her eyes, it seemed. She was gripping her right sleeve tightly with her left hand before she started to speak in a quiet tone. “Do you remember the time Bow and I escaped from the Hunters?-” When the older woman nodded, she continued “-That girl was there too, I...I managed to open our cage and free us, but...I couldn't free her because I got scared and ran away.” The poor girl looked like she was about to cry. “I dropped the key to the floor and simply fled. I wanted to help...I really did!”

“You did your best, Hattie, that's what counts. I understand that you're upset that you failed to safe our friend here, but it was important that you fled. You did amazing already, saving yourself and Bow.-” Cookie tried to comfort her. Her heart ached at the thought that the werewolf girl could have been trapped in a cage for several days. It was awful...all of this was so awful that it made her heart bleed. “-The important thing right now is that you're all here, and your safe.”

Hattie wiped away a few tears with her sleeve and gave a determined expression, one that she did see only a handful of times before. “I will do better, I'll make sure that something like this won't happen again!” With that statement, Hattie walked back upstairs, past Bow and Mu that were having a pleasant conversation...more like Bow ranting about her favorite flowers while the werewolf quietly listened, just enjoying that someone her age was talking with her.

“Do you want something to drink, sweetie? We have orange juice and apple juice in small boxes with straws, or would you rather have a nice tea?” Cookie addressed Mu who got brought out of own thoughts, jolting a bit.

Bow clapped her hands together. “You should try the apple juice, it's really tasty!” She reached for the hand of the more reluctant girl and pulled her over to the fridge. Cookie had expected the young werewolf to resist, but she looked rather surprised at being grabbed by the hand while the other girl simply smiled and handed her a juice box that had the picture of a red apple on the front.

“T-Thanks...” Mu replied in a quiet and slightly shaky voice. Maybe she was still a bit unsure of what she should do, Cookie concluded.

After Bow had sat down on the corner bench with her new friend, the witch decided to start with some easy questions to get some more information about to the girl. So far, all she knew was that she was a werewolf that Conductor had found injured by a silver bullet that could have ended fatally, had she not intervened. “What's your name? I don't want to address you as werewolf girl.” As Mu hesitated to answer, Bow simply smiled and nodded to her, hoping that the other girl would know that it was okay to speak.

“My name is Muriel, but I usually prefer my nickname, Mu.” Her voice still had a wavering tone, it was clearly difficult for the girl to open up. Cookie wanted to ask about the parents of young Muriel, but she had an inkling that they were...likely no longer around or got captured.

“That's a very nice name, Mu. How old are you? If you don't mind the question.” Cookie sat down to not be intimidating the girl, even though she wasn't tall at all, Mu was still a bit smaller than her, so she thought it best to sit down to be on a more even level with her, she also avoided direct eye contact, it was seen as more confrontational to werebeasts and might intimidate her, so Cookie busied herself by cleaning the table.

“I'm 10 years old.” A short and simple answer that resulted in a gasp from the changeling next to Mu.

“Wow! We're the same age!” Bow's eyes sparkled, happy that she might get a new friend her age. Not that she hated Hattie of course, but she had known Hattie all her life, so finding another girl she could talk to was just awesome. “Can I ask you something?”

Mu simply nodded. “Do your parents also have a mustache like you? I don't think I've seen another girl that has one, I like it.” Had Bow not mentioned her parents, Mu would have smiled and been happy that the changeling girl hadn't made fun of her and actually enjoyed the oddity, instead, she was close to tears. “Oh no...” Bow realized her mistake too late, she immediately regretted asking that stupid question.

Cookie cringed for a second at Bow's questions, it was unfortunate that she had breached the heavy subject. she knew that it wasn't her attention to make Mu sad, given that the young girl was desperately trying to fix her error by pulling the other girl into a hug. It all but confirmed what she had been dreading, that the poor girl was just as alone as she had feared.

“They're...they're gone...” Muriel whispered into the silence that had followed after Bow's clumsy inquiry. Cookie sighed heavily, and slowly and carefully reached for the right hand of werebeast that met her eyes as soon as she spotted the small hand in her peripheral vision. The same expression of kindness greeted her, no malice, no bad intentions were present in that calm gaze.

The red-haired woman was glad when the small hand she was trying to reach didn't get pulled away, she could feel the poor girl tremble as her hand shook in her own. “You can stay here if you want, Mu. We maybe a ragtag bunch of individuals, but I can assure you that we'll do our best to keep you safe. If you need proof, look at Bow here, and Hattie. We won't harm you.” She spoke as gently as she could and it caused the girl to nearly break down in tears.

Poor Mu couldn't understand why those people were so nice to her, neither the wereowl man from the night before, nor the woman that was gingerly holding her hand, had tried to get rid of her, quite the opposite, they seemed to want her to stay. At first she had thought it was because they wanted to harm her, but when she had spotted Bow and Hattie that were doing alright, both looked happy to be here...Could she really be safe for once, would this old woman keep her word and protect her? “Why?-” She sniffed, “-Why are you helping me?”

“Because I want to. I've seen plenty of your kind suffer, young and old, and...I swore to myself that I'll do all I can to make sure that I'll save as many of you as I can.” There was conviction in Cookie's words, enough to get Mu to finally put her trust in her.

“.....Thank you, n-no one has e-ever been so nice t-to me. Most a-adults just p-push me away like, like I-I'm rubbish.” Mu had started to sob quietly, trying her best to stay as strong as possible. Bow was hugging her from the side while Cookie squeezed the hand she had been holding the entire time.

“We'll be your family now, we can't replace your parents, but I will be the best friend ever, I promise!” The calm and somber sounding voice of Bow slowly calmed Mu down more and more. The more she calmed down, the more embarrassed she was that she had practically bawled her eyes out in front of strangers.

Cookie noticed that the red-clothed girl was slowly calming down. “How about you take a look around the house, get acquainted with the place. Conductor told me this morning that he spoken with you, so you already met him. I'm sure that DJ Grooves will greet you with open arms.-” She was more worried about Snatcher saying something that could upset the girl, he wasn't know to be the kindest. “-Snatcher is a bit...rough around the edges, but he has a kind heart.” Bow seemed to disagree with that statement as she narrowed her eyes and frowned.

“You should keep away from that guy, he's giving me bad vibes.” Bow whispered, so that only Mu could hear her. Mu kept that in mind as she looked around the house, she had wanted to explore the house anyway.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare ch 10

Hello friends, chapter ten is here. Just to be clear this whole chapter is a nightmare sequence. Um... enjoy

Previous chapters

"I'm better than him," Bowser insisted yet again as he held you closer, a big finger gently wiping the tears off your cheeks but careful of your black eye. You didn't stop him despite the fact your cheeks still stung. "I'd never hit ya like that. Or play those fucking mind games. Yeah, I got a temper, but I promise I'd never burn you… er, both physically and mentally. I mean, after all this time letting you cry on my shoulder about that idiot…"

You forced yourself to draw in a breath and slowly let it out in hopes of preventing more tears. Although you leaned into his touch, you were just tired of crying, and tried to distract yourself by running your fingers along the smooth under scales on his chest, starting up near where his clavicle would be.

It wasn't the first time the king had put this idea to you, but something held you back the few times he'd brought it up. But, to his credit, he never complained or withheld his help from you even after numerous rejections.

"There's a few complications, Bows… you know that," you muttered. Your fingers pressed into one of his pecs gently; although the scales were thick, they still moved with his skin, and you could tell he felt it by the way his muscles twitched at your touch.

In response, his big hands gripped you around your waist and turned you around like you didn't weigh anything (which to him you didn't), a quiet growl escaping him. "Awfully touchy for someone who don't wanna get with me like that," he grumbled as he tucked your hips right back against his own in a proper spooning position.

Your heart jumped into your throat as a confusing wave of feelings swept through you like the onset of a flash blizzard. First and foremost you felt disappointed when you didn't feel anything… extra. Confusion and shame quickly shoved the disappointment aside, though - after all the abuse you'd been through, it seemed you were still feeling sexually frustrated, and you absolutely hated knowing that.

"Can you blame me?" you mumbled, hugging a large hand to your chest.

"It wouldn't have to mean anything, you know." Bowser's voice was low and right in your ear, his breath warm against your cool skin. The fingers against your chest flexed a little, lightly pressing into you. "I can smell how frustrated you are… it won't change anything if you don't want it to. And I'm not gonna pressure you, got it? Just lettin' you know the option's there."

"B-Bowser…" you breathed, unable to suppress a shiver. But suddenly, you couldn't stop shivering. You shivered hard, violently, to the point your teeth were chattering and you could barely even hug yourself. Instead of hugging you closer, though, Bowser was suddenly over you on his hands and knees, a snarl ripping from his maw. The hand that had been on your chest was now pinning you to the bed.

"Toadstool did this to you," he hissed, baring his fangs. "He left you here like this, at my mercy, after abusing and abandoning you! Don't you hate him?! This proves no one cares about you!"

"I-I thought you did!" It was a struggle to get the words out, but fear was a powerful motivator.

Bowser scoffed and sneered; your heart sank into your stomach even as it pounded relentlessly against your ribs. Then he started to laugh. Low and slow at first, but it slowly began to build until he was nearly guffawing right in your face, those sharp fangs mere inches from your skin.

After a painful moment, he finally calmed enough to get some words out: "Stupid handmaid thought I cared! I only care about two things: Peaches, and getting my hands on a power star! No one cares about you!" he reiterated between giggles.

"No!" you cried. You had no idea what spurred the sudden aggression and hatred yet you knew you had to put distance between the two of you, so you started to struggle beneath him, desperate to get away as lava began to slowly fill the room. The familiar smell of smoke and stone debris filled your nose - you could even feel the grit of dust between your teeth. Your face and hands stung worse from the heat but still you couldn't stop shivering, even as Bowser pinned you. He didn't even flinch as you tried to push his head away.

"He left you to DIE!" Bowser roared in your face; you had to yank your hands back as he snapped at them. His breath stunk like that brimstone he'd used to wake you when you nearly died; you tried to turn away, gagging, but he yanked your face back to look at him, claws scratching your face.

But you didn't see him anymore. Instead, you saw Wendy and Dryden clinging to each other as they cowered on a table floating amidst the lava lake. The table was unstable, tilting first one way, then another, the kids swaying in their attempt not to fall in.

"Help! Missy, help us!" Dryden sobbed hard as he and Wendy struggled not to tip over.

You scrambled to the edge of the bed, but you had no way to reach them - they were all the way across the room. "D-don't panic! Stay still and you won't fall!" you tried to yell. Your voice sounded faraway, but still you did your best to guide them.

"Maidie-!"

Before Wendy could get another word out, the head of a massive lava lizard appeared from the lava. For a moment, it just sat there, then in a split second it morphed into the head of the very man that had sent you fleeing from your former life. Too stunned to move, you could only watch as the horrid creature surged forward and swallowed the two kids into its horrible, gaping mouth, before sinking back below the bubbling surface.

You screamed as you watched, but even that was cut short when two hands roughly grabbed you from behind. You struggled violently against them, sobbing hysterically even as they held you out over the lava. Whether they belonged to Bowser or him , it didn't matter: the searing heat was unbearable. It seemed to claw at your legs, tearing through your pants and right into your flesh, heedless of your begging sobs. You kicked, screamed, struggled, failed your arms, but nothing worked.

How could this happen? First left to die back home, then again when you were just starting to find your new life? Were you just not meant to live? Maybe… maybe it would be better to step into the lava willingly. No one would know. No one would care, except maybe Bowser because he wouldn't get his prize from Toadstool. Dryden and Wendy both would probably just think you left.

Slowly, the hands pulled you back as your struggling lessened. You stared down at your shredded pants and mangled legs, on the verge of total resignation.

"Give up already," a voice whispered.

Just like that, your body shuddered and sagged; the hands dropped you, sending you plummeting toward a stone floor, the two kids' screams of terror still echoing in your ears. Even though the falling sensation made your stomach twist, your mind was blank as you accepted your imminent death - you hadn't even been able to help Wendy and Dryden. What kind of person deserved to live after that? Not you. You didn't scream or cry out, or even try to grab something to slow your descent during the eternal descent. You just closed your eyes and tried to embrace the feeling of falling while you waited for that inevitable hit that would mercifully end all of your unwarranted suffering.

[starlight-and-whiskey]

More People than Ghosts: Ch3 On the Wind

"On the wind the wolves are howling She cries 'they're drawing near' Turn around, turn around, my darling. No, the wolves are here"

- The Wolves • Watchhouse

Reminder for 18+ Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

A sense of accomplishment flooded Eleanor’s veins; a grin plastered on her face and her arms weaved around Arthur’s waist as she settled behind him atop his mare. She’d not managed to kill a thing while they’d been out hunting, but she’d gone out. She’d laughed, and for a few hours, she’d forgotten.

The day’s moments played over in her head on repeat. Arthur’s hand moving from her shoulder to fold around her waist, bracing her for the recoil. His lips so close to her neck that she could feel the warm puff of his breath against her jaw, could smell that comforting heavy musk of campfire smoke and tanned leather.

"Breathe slowly. Don’t snatch at the trigger.”

"Thank you", she beamed, giving his waist a gentle squeeze. Eleanor could feel the deep rumble of a chuckle through his back and smiled a little wider.

"Ain't nothing. You did good".

They'd been riding almost an hour when Arthur pulled his horse to a stop, keen eyes surveying the horizon.

"What is it?" She asked, unease tingeing her voice as she peered around his broad shoulder to look out across the hills.

"Storms coming in." He said, pointing to the distance. "See?"

She followed his finger to the looming dark cloud rolling steadily towards them, engulfing the sky. A distant rumble of thunder cascaded down the hills in warning.

"Looks bad. We'd better make camp. Ain't gonna get too much further before it hits."

Every last inch of self-confidence that the hunting trip had bolstered suddenly melted away as Eleanor scanned their surroundings, eyes wide. Making camp out in the plains? She couldn't. Leaving camp had been enough of a hurdle, but sleeping out? The last time she'd made camp they'd come for her. Smack in the middle of the night, being dragged from pleasant slumber by the rip of slashing knives through canvas, the glint of a blade against her throat as she struggled to separate dream from reality. Too scared to scream, to fight. And then…

"I can't..." she murmured quietly, her muscles frozen.

Arthur twisted to look over his shoulder, a hand absently falling over hers as it rested on his side, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You can”, he nodded assertively. “I'm right here. You don't wanna be outside when that storm comes."

"I-"

"Do you trust me?"

She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"Do you trust me?" He repeated, firmer.

Eleanor forced her eyes to meet his.

"Yes."

"OK, let's move." Arthur pulled Eleanor's arm tighter around his waist, holding her hand firmly at his naval as he kicked in his heels and spurred the horse on in search of a decent spot to make camp.

***

"Here's a good spot", Arthur said more to himself than to her, swinging himself down off his horse with measured ease. When he extended a hand up, Eleanor hesitated. He offered it again, nodding with eyebrows raised. You can do this.

As Arthur hammered in the last few pegs, spots of rain had already started to fall, the light becoming engulfed by dense black clouds.

Working quickly, Arthur set up his bedroll and blanket, holding open the flap of the tent. When Eleanor remained rooted to the spot, Arthur's eyes drifted to her shaking hands, and felt his heart squeeze. "Go on now. Don't be getting wet".

Wordlessly, Eleanor complied, crawling inside the small tent before Arthur followed, tying up the entrance tight against the howling wind.

Arthur searched for words, something to soothe her but came up blank as she sat awkwardly in the dim light, knees pulled up to her chest, wide eyes fixed on the entrance to the tent as if in a trance. As the moments passed, the temperature continued to drop, the rain coming thick and fast.

Eleanor flinched when something brushed her shoulder, snapping her from hideous memories. It had only been Arthur, tenderly draping the faded blanket around her shoulders.

"You were shaking", he reasoned quietly.

"Oh."

They huddled inside, sides almost touching in the cramped space as flashes of lightning illuminated the inside of the small tent, rain pounding hard on the canvas. At the deafening rumble of thunder, she flinched, nervous fingers fisting at the blanket, gripping it tight around her chest.

"It was storming when they took me", she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the pounding rain. "Couldn't hear a thing save for the rain. Couldn't see them in the dark. They just sliced open my tent and..."

Arthur remained silent as she trailed off, her stare never moving from the knots holding the tent flaps closed, tears welling in her glistening blue eyes.

"I used to love thunderstorms. They even took that from me."

Her now healed wrists ached something fierce, as though bound again in invisible shackles. She could smell the musty scent of mildew that had mottled the damp wooden walls of her small confines.

As her breathing quickened in her chest, Eleanor clawed at the soft grass beside the bedroll, focusing hard on the smell of Arthur inches from her in an attempt to ground herself.

You're not there. You're safe.

Soft grass. Black coffee. Tanned leather.

You're safe.

A flash of lightning lit up the tent for a brief moment, and Arthur recognised that wild, terrified look in her eyes once again.

You're with Arthur. You're safe. Soft grass. Campfire smoke. Sweet tobacco. You're-

When the closely chasing crash of thunder echoed suddenly through the surrounding woodland, Eleanor let out a small whimper through tightly clenched lips as the tears spilled over, curling further in on herself as vivid memories crashed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to swallow her whole.

Without thinking, Arthur wrapped his arms around her shaking body, pulling her firmly into his chest. To his surprise, she didn't recoil, instead grabbing at his jacket with shaking hands and burying her face into his shirt.

"You're okay" He whispered, pressing his lips into the curls of her hair as he cradled her head with a broad hand, his other arm wound tight around her shuddering frame. "Ain't no one gonna hurt you with me here."

Arthur heard the unmistakable hitching of breath devolving into wracking sobs as she finally broke down, his shirt quickly dampened with hot tears. It only served to make him grip tighter. "Shhh. You're alright. I got'cha. It's okay...you're okay."

They stayed that way for a long while, Arthur cradling her against his firm chest, rocking gently and humming a sweet melody until the thunder began to slowly creep away.

"Feel so stupid", she mumbled against the wet patch of his shirt, fingers finally loosening their grip. Her entire body ached, her head pounding.

Arthur smiled sadly, whispering into her hair. "Ain't stupid."

Gently, he pulled back, his calloused palm tenderly cupping her jaw to lift her face up, all red and blotchy. "You look exhausted", he said quietly, brushing away the last streaks of tears on her hot cheeks. "Still not sleeping?"

"No", she whispered, eyes averting his gaze.

Arthur's hand squeezed her arm. "Come on, lay down."

When she hesitated, Arthur nodded briskly. "I'll stay awake. You'll be safe."

Exhaustion finally won out and she complied, awkwardly laying back on the bedroll as Arthur wrapped the now fallen blanket over her.

"Would..." Eleanor began, before trailing off, puffing out a sheepish sigh and shaking her head.

"Hm?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Would what?"

"Would you hold me?" She asked meekly, feeling more like a child than she had done in decades.

Arthur smiled solemnly, brushing back her hair. "Sure."

Eleanor heard the comforting sound of Arthur's soft sigh as he lay next to her, shuffling to make more room for his hulking frame.

Despite her stinging eyes, Eleanor fought to keep them open, curling into Arthur's chest as he wound a strong arm around her shoulders, his other arm resting on her waist.

"I used to be scared of the dark", Arthur said quietly against the dark, his chin resting on the top of her head. "Back when my momma died."

Eleanor's brow furrowed, focusing on his whispered words and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

"I was 5, maybe 6. She got real sick. My daddy, well... he weren't good for much." Arthur licked his lip, pausing for a moment and focussing on the drum of raindrops above them.

"He used to hurt my momma. She tried to hide it o'course, but I knew. Then when she died, he didn't have anyone to hurt anymore. 'Cept me."

"This one time, he-" Arthur cleared his throat, a little taken aback at how easily the words were spilling from his gut. He'd never told anyone before. Not Dutch. Not Hosea. Not even Mary. "He locked me in the closet. Slid a broom handle through the fixings and left...  Nearly three damn days I was stuck in there. Alone. In the dark. Felt like a lifetime."

Eleanor felt Arthur's adams apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

"I'm sorry", she whispered against his chest.

Arthur pursed his lips and pushed out a slow, steady breath, before sniffing hard and clearing his throat.

"Ain't told no one that before."

"Why you telling me?" Arthur's arms wound a little tighter around her body, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

"Thought it might make you feel a little less alone."

She considered the words for a moment, readjusting her body to press a little closer against Arthur's, giving him a subtle squeeze.

"Thank you."