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itsbubbleteataro · 2 months

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Like we're gonna die young

Warnings; drink and alcohol abuse (getting clean) angel dust being angel dust, the Vs

Parings; Alastor x fem reader

Part one of ?

(I blasted so much early 2000s/2010s pop with a sprinkling of punk, playlist here

You didn't think you were a big deal. You were just some pop star from the early 2000s who ended up in hell. You just liked to keep the party going. When you showed up in hell you found yourself with animalistic features.

Your already wild multi-colored hair be wilder and longer. Your legs now looked something akin to a wolf's. You have two large wold ears. Shrugging you did the only thing you knew how, party. You walked into the nearest club, got too drunk and broke out into a Kesha song. Next thing you know, your a social media hit.

It's been a few years since you came to hell and became an overnight hit. You went to the same bar, acting as some kind of unpaid performer if you were on enough drugs or drunk enough.

You were in a booth, sipping on something someone handed you a while ago, scratching your arm. You were withdrawing, trying to go clean on your own. You knew that you couldn't do alcohol on your own, you would need to get medical help for that one, but drugs? You figured you could do it.

You were three days, you found that scratching your arm seemed to work for now, but it wouldn't quench the hunger that was there. It's been two days and you already wanted to relapse.

You were irritated, only made worse by a new presence at the club, the Vs. All three of them, sitting in the vip section. You gulped as you watched them all take a seat, and the owner of the club, Rina walked over.

Rina had animalistic traits just like you did, only instead of wolf like, she's more fox like. Rina has skin that's more akin to fur, cunning jade colored eyes and long well kept black hair. Rina looked at you with sympathy. She's the only one who knew you were at least trying to get clean.

"(Y/n) I hate to ask, but do you think you could preform tonight? I know you don't work here but the Vs are hear and I'm panicking!"

You nodded agreeing and standing up. You quickly swallowed the rest of your drink while Rina looked at you thankful. The two of you were close, friends. Yet you refused to work under her. You were thinking leaving your empty glass on the bar as you leaned against it.

You snapped your clawed fingers as you knew what song you wanted to do, your fluffy tail waving back and forth to the sound of the music that was already playing.

Before you could even start a second familiar face walked up to you. You recognized her. Cassidy had short black hair cut in a bob. Her eyes inky pools of black with white. She dressed as if she fit into the club crowd, but you knew her better and knew she would much rather wear something else. She snaked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close,

"(Y/n) I need a favor~ I promise I'll get you whatever ya want if you do it"

Cassidy asked quite straight forward. You nodded your head so she continued,

"Get Vox to talk about himself for me, I've got a hunch he's been up to something"

"Cassie, you know he already does that-"

"Yeah yeah I know but I hear he's been doing a little cheating~"

You raised an eyebrow. Now this was interesting. You always thought Vox and Valentino were an item, apparently they weren't exclusive if they were. You had no idea Vox had even gotten himself into a relationship, let alone knew anyone who would openly date him. You felt bad for whoever he was with, that is if what Cassidy was saying was true.

"Ya got proof?"

You know Cassidy usually doesn't talk to you about things like this unless she has proof. Both you and Rina gasped as the picture Cassie held up with a smirk.

Sure enough it was Vox with a man, making out in a back alley. You smirked, having just the song to push his buttons the way Cassie wanted you too.

As the three of you conversed on a little plan, Angel Dust, Husk, Cheri bomb, Nifty and Sir Pentious walked in the club. Charlie and Vaggie were in Heaven for a meeting about the extermination and Alastor was out for an overlord meeting. Charlie had asked Cheri bomb to take them all out on an outing while the three were away and they ended up at the very same club you were.

The bunch took their seats, Angel Dust making sure to keep an eye on Nifty and making sure she wasn't drinking too much, ending up placing her in Husk's care as she played with his feline like ears.

The music in the club was quickly replaced by yours. (Link here to song) people started cheering as they realized they you were finally singing for the night.

Your foot thumped against the ground as the song started, tail wagging with excitement. As you opened your mouth to sing you cringed, you sounded tipsy. Shaking the thought from your head, the show went on.

Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb realized right away who you were from the start of your performance.

"Holy shite it's (y/n) she's here tonight? Fuck yeah!"

Cheered Cherri Bomb as the group now watched you. While everyone but Nifty, she was busy playing with Husk's wings. Husk raised an eyebrow as Angel Dust pulled out his phone to record the performance.

Meanwhile Rina had taken the picture from Cassie and use her abilities to shift her appearance. Her usual fox like features turned to a more hellborn like one, choosing to look like an imp from lust as that would fit in more. She took the picture from Cassie and set off behind you.

You sang and made your way over to the Vs. you smirked, wanting to get under their skin, but not enough to the point where they would kill you.

As you placed your finger under what you would consider to be Vox's chin, the firm flat metallic edge of his flat screen tv face, Rina walked up, setting down the picture Cassie took.

You take your leave, hips swaying as Angel Dust watches closely, eyebrow lifted. Rina leans over the table and slides the picture to Vox and also takes her leave.

Angel dust focuses his camera on Vox, whose screen glitches for a moment as Val raises an eyebrow before moving it to Rina who shape shifts back into her regular form, before locating your form once more.

You're dancing on the bar, shaking your hips, hands in your hair, enjoying the rush of the show. Angel stops his recording and turns to the group, motioning for them to head back.

The group makes its way to the hotel where Angel makes the mistake of leaving his phone open, with the video up and playing on the main table, having been called over by Charlie for something.

Alastor comes waltzing in after his Overlord meeting, looking over at the miniature picture box he so detested. He raised his staff, about to break it, when he watched your interaction with Vox. The way you looked at him with a slight smirk on your features followed by the picture being slid over almost made him feel something.

Was it admiration? Was it respect? He didn't really care to find out quite yet, all he knew is that he found you quite interesting. He paused the video as it zoomed in on you, smile wide on your face, clearly drunk, but enjoying yourself.

Yes he didn't quite enjoy seeing how drunk you were, but it still didn't change the fact that you had managed to get under Vox's skin with nothing more than what seemed just like a photograph.

He may not have knew how he was feeling but he did know

He just positively had to get his claws on that photograph

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@slytherin4ever @iheartpieck @luzzbuzz

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #x reader #(y/n)

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lovesickfoolwp · 2 years

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emails i can't send — conrad fisher

pairing : conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary : after being apart for so long, your dad comes to the fourth of july party in cousins beach being convinced by your mother. everything turns into a complete shit show and you end it up crying into conrad's arms.

word count : 2k

while you, belly and jeremiah were trying to follow victoria's recipe for making pomegranate margaritas, with a twist added by belly, conrad entered the room. seeing the enthusiasm on your faces, he also wanted to participate, coming up with the idea of using the better blender.

while you were remembering the time when belly and jeremiah, led by you, made a whole mess a few years ago trying to make some drinks for yourselves, a unpleasant surprise appeared in the kitchen.

"y/n?" your dad's voice, which you could have sworn you've forgot over the years, was heard from behind you.

your smile gradually disappeared and your lifelong friends were watching you intently, ready to intervene if you needed any kind of help.

you turned, slowly, on your heel toward him, swallowing hard when you realized that not much had changed in his appearance. probably just the white hair and a few wrinkles. otherwise, it was just like you remembered him and you hated that.

"dad?" you replied, using the word you hadn't used in years. more precisely, since he failed to be the person you would've looked up to.

he had the audacity to approach you and to try to hug into his arms, but conrad stopped him. extending his arm in front of you, thus blocking his access.

your father shot him a threatening look, and before he could say anything, your mother appeared in the room through the back door. seeing the look on your face and how everyone was tense, she realized that maybe this was not her best choice.

"well," she approached you and put her hand on your shoulder to draw your attention, smiling sincerely with regret. "sorry, sweetie, for not telling you earlier about this. now i notice that a mistake may have been made."

"how is this a mistake?" your father asked her, but everyone ignored him.

"you should have asked my opinion first, mom."

this was probably the first time you were really disappointed in her.

"y/n," your father tried to come to you again, but conrad's hand was in the same place. "can we talk a little?"

conrad's eyes turned to you, but instead he met your mother's gaze, which beckoned him to withdraw.

"please, y/n, let me explain!" he insisted when conrad withdrew his hand, but you continued to stay silent.

you gave up, sighing, and accepted. everyone in the room, especially conrad, were asking you if you were sure. you weren't. but, for the sake of your mother, you were at least able to listen to him.

so you went to your room to have total peace. you were sitting on your bed, and your father was standing in front of you.

"i don't understand, y/n, why you let what happened between you and your mother affect our relationship. we were so close before, and now you don't answer my phone either. i'm not even mentioning that you don't want to visit me."

"because it affects me too!"

he snorted in disbelief.

"how could it affect you if the divorce was by mutual agreement?"

you fake laughed and put your head in the hands you were now resting on your knees. "mutual agreement? is that what it's called now when you're cheating on your wife?" you said more for yourself, but he heard you.

"do you hear yourself?" he asked reproachfully.

"yeah, actually, i really do." you answered and looked up again, even if the eye contact grinded all your thinking. you could no longer look him in the eye. "it would have been a step forward if you had even acknowledged what you did. you cheated on my mother and destroyed my all of my trust in you. i can't forgive you as easily as she did."

tears began to appear in the corner of your eye, and he noticed this and sat down next to you, making the bear minimum to keep a considerable distance between you two.

"how this has affected you, y/n?"

he asked you and this time you felt a trace of sincere curiosity in his voice.

"i can't trust the boys anymore, dad. i can't love a boy without making thousands of negative thoughts when he doesn't respond immediately to my text." you sighed and thinking about conrad, you continued. "i know that he's a good person, but i can't get out of my head the idea that one day he might hurt me as much as you hurt mom. you gave me trust issues and you destroyed my expectations of a relationship."

he listened to every word you said, memorizing everything. so when you' were done, he leaned over to you and put his hand over your hand, which was shaking on your knee. "i wish i could fix this, sweet pie."

at the nickname he used to use when you were little, when he was still a model for you, and you felt his touch again, you retreated like his touch burnt you, standing upright by the door.

he stood up too, looking at you as if you were about to break down at any given moment and that's was it.

you approached him, raising your index finger to him and with tears starting to run down your cheeks, you addressed him for the last time. "i'm going to leave the room and when i get back, you'll be anywhere, just not near this house."

and with that being said, you came out of the room like a tornado, ignoring the fact that conrad was a few doors away, listening to everything. and ignoring the fact that conrad called name continuously, following in your footsteps.

you didn't stop until you reached the beach, you sat on the sand and you felt the sea breeze at your feet. you continued to cry, sniffing through the fresh air, watching through the tears as the waves broke.

you felt a warm touch on your shoulder and you knew who that was before he sat down next to you.

"do you want to talk about it?” conrad asked, continuing to look at you intently.

you looked up at him, and your eyes and wet cheeks shattered his heart. he couldn't stand seeing you in this situation.

"could you hold me in your arms for a moment, without saying anything?" your voice trembled when you asked him that and he agreed immediately.

you got up from the position you were in earlier, put your thighs around his legs, and lowered your head into the hollow of your neck, continuing to sigh as he stroked your back.

"yeah, but only for a few moments. we're going to have to talk about this at some point." he said in a reassuring tone and realizing that you would listen to his voice for a lifetime and not get bored, you nodded.

his touch along with your two favorite sounds combined, his breathing and the sound of the ocean, calmed you in a few minutes, becoming soft in his arms.

when your peace had begun to unsettle him because he had begun to overthinking everything, he began to draw circles on your back with his finger to get your attention.

the tears had stopped and the sighs were gone, but you weren't ready to see you with the swollen face from so much crying.

"y/n?" he called your name lightly, beginning to wonder if you had fallen asleep.

you murmured softly something that was not understood and when he tried to move you away enough to see your face by putting his hands on your hips, you clung into his neck like a little kitten that refuses to let you go when you want to let him down from your arms.

he giggled and you felt a flock of butterflies that flew in your stomach, managing to put a lazy smile on your face. when he felt your smile on the skin of his neck, he tried to move you away for a second time and with you being taken unprepared, he succeeded.

no matter how much it hurt him to see you cry, your face afer crying seemed a very beautiful thing, and somehow peaceful, to him because he could've sworn that you were always shining.

"when were you going to tell me you liked me too?" he asked you in a serious tone, but in the end he touched you on the nose teasingly.

"what are you talking about?"

"we both know that i have shown you many times, through my specific methods, that i care a lot about you and what you said to your father today made me believe that was about me. i might be wrong though."

you stood for a second, remembering what you said and you hit him playfully in the shoulder. "were you eavesdropping?"

he laughed lightly in response and then he returned to being seriously, his grip around your waist becoming tighter. "seriously, y/n, i can understand you better than anyone about everything you've said. and if that's all that stops you from telling me what i've wanted to hear for so long, go ahead. because i promise i understand you."

"how can you understand?" you asked him frustrated and you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at the ocean.

he sighed before he said "because, between us, me and jere are going through the same thing, only he doesn't know it yet. i haven't told him yet. and no one but you, not even our parents, knows i found out."

at that moment you withdrew so that you could study his face. he had no reaction on his face, but the grip around you told you enough.

"your parents are divorcing?"

you couldn't believe it. susannah and adam seemed to be the perfect couple. but so did your parents. that was until your father gave up everything in one selfish night.

"yeah."

there was silence between you for a while, and conrad's fingers on his waist were the only thing holding you to reality. you went through your mind again the words you said to your father and now you knew that conrad had heard them. at the moment you managed to think you were ready, so you cleared your throat and his eyes immediately met yours.

he removed his hands from your waist, and if it had not seemed to you that you were exceeding a limit imposed by your conscience, you would have sighed at that lack of contact.

"what's wrong?" he asked you and put one of his now free hands on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

you didn't know how to say it, so you threw the words straight in front of him in one breath. "i like you too."

he thought he was dreaming.

"say it again." he challenged you to repeat it.

you raised your eyebrow and looked at him for a second, then did as he told you to. "i like you too, conrad."

you thought that if you said his name this way, in this sentence, it would make him feel assured of your feelings and you succeeded.

it was his turn to bury his face in the curvature of your neck, squeezing your waist in his arms as if he didn't give you a chance to change your mind and leave.

it was clear. his hands on your waist already felt like home after today.

he barely managed to retreat, being too vulnerable now and wanting to keep hugging you. but he need to say a few more words.

you watched him intently, waiting for him to start talking, but his hands found yours and he began to play anxiously with your fingers as he spoke "believe me, y/n, that after all i've been through in the last few months, i wouldn't want to believe that we'll just be friends again. i want to be around you, i want to be able to hug and kiss you." his fingers found their place, intertwining with your fingers as he continued. "and most importantly, i want to help you build your trust in me."

at that moment, you could have cried again. this time because of happiness. but the grimace on his face when he heard you sighing worried you and you abstained for his sake. "sure."

that was the only word you managed to say, but to him it meant everything.

his lips met yours and he swore to protect you from whatever was needed. even from his own demons.

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conradfisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #the summer i turned pretty imagine #conrad fisher fluff #angst #Spotify

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slayerkitty · 6 months

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(Stages of) Grief and Loss in Last Twilight

So apparently I'm ready to meta this show right out of the gate! That's never happened before, lol. The last P'Aof show that aired was Moonlight Chicken and I was still learning about BL as a genre as well getting caught up on various BLs (I mean, I'm still getting caught up, but I'm way more well versed now, lol). It's exciting, actually getting to meta a P'Aof show.

@twig-tea was the first of the former Only Friends Ephemerality Squad to discuss Last Twilight with a focus on liminality. During our discussion on the characters and how liminality was affecting them, I mentioned that grief is liminal; @twig-tea replied with "When you’re in grief you’re not in the same space you were, and coming out the other side you’re different and the world feels different, and grief feels interminable, and you can’t feel the passing of time the same way."

That sentence, of course, got me thinking about the grieving process (because P'Aof seems to be once again using his art to work through his emotions surrounding loss; I remember that it was said he used Moonlight Chicken for this as well). I was further prompted by @waitmyturtles and their commentary on Mhok (Mork? I know Jimmy sanctioned Mork; have we settled on a spelling?) and how he is angry about and distanced from his sister's death.

Depending on where you look, there are 5-7 "stages" of grief. Per Medical News Today, they're listed as: Shock: This stage may involve numbed disbelief in response to news of a loss. It may serve as an emotional buffer to prevent someone from feeling overwhelmed. Denial: Denial may entail refuting the reality of the loss or any associated feelings. Once an individual accepts reality, they can move forward through the healing process. Anger: During this stage, an individual may direct their anger toward the person who died, doctors, family members, or even religious entities. It is important to address the anger. Bargaining: Bargaining involves thoughts such as “I will do anything if you take away the pain.” This stage may come at any point within the grieving process. It is frequently accompanied by guilt. Depression: At this stage, a person may experience feelings of emptiness and intense sadness. They may also withdraw from daily activities and things they once enjoyed. Testing: Testing is the process of trying to find solutions that offer a means of dealing with loss. Someone may drift in and out of other grieving stages during this time. Acceptance: This is the final stage of the grieving process. Acceptance does not mean people feel OK about a loss. Rather, it means they realize the loss is their new reality. They understand that while life will not continue as it did before, it will go on. This stage may involve reorganizing roles and forming new relationships.

I wanted to give a closer examination of specifically Mhok and Day and where they're at in the grieving process at the start of the show, as they've both suffered tragic, massive (albeit entirely different) losses.

Mhok:

Mohk's losses are huge but mostly affect only him. Prior to the start of the show, he had lost his parents (how they died and how long they've been gone isn't really mentioned but he and Rung don't seem too grief-stricken in the flashback to visiting them). He made a mistake, a fight went too far and he lost his freedom (so I'm a little unclear exactly how much time he spent in jail - was it the full year? or six months?), as well as presumably his home and his job.

Somewhere in the ensuing jail time, he lost his friends (assuming he was telling the truth to the guy who took his ankle monitor off) and it's implied he lost his girlfriend (I am fascinated by Mhok's relationship with his ex; with everything else he lost, he has managed to maintain a friendship with her - so much so that she has a boyfriend and it doesn't even phase him). The night Mhok is arrested, he loses his last remaining family member, his sister. Rung's death is clearly the thing he's struggling with the most - as @waitmyturtles said "There’s a lot of anger, a lot of regret, a lot of avoidance, a lot of dancing around the honest truth."

Mhok seems to have reached acceptance with most of the things he's lost - his parents, his job, his friends, his girlfriend - but he is struggling with his anger over his current situation (needing a job so he can, you know, have money to live - and also pay for his sister's car storage) as well as the anger he clearly feels toward his sister. Given how she died, Mhok says she's to blame.

Day:

Day's losses are completely different and affect everyone in his life, most notably his mother and his brother. While Mhok was just muddling through life before he lost everything, Day is at the top of the world. He's a champion badminton player, headed into an important match when the unthinkable happens - his vision goes blurry and he can't see clearly. Now, we don't get a lot of info up front about exactly what's wrong with Day's vision - one of the nurses at the hospital says he had some sort of car accident (where I'm assuming he would have hit his head?). As a result of his injury, Day has lost his career, but more importantly, he's lost control over his life.

His injury is in control now - every moment of every day is now centered around the fact that he can't see. Every interaction he has with his family has to do with his vision loss. What's interesting is that he seems to be fairly accepting of his injury, of the fact that he can't see. It's the way he's being treated as a result that is making him angry - his family is definitely made it so he has little to no agency and no self-sufficiency in his life. He's in a wheelchair so he can be pushed around the house (instead of just being able to learn where the furniture is and walk himself - though he is still getting over an ankle injury). His brother is giving up his entire life it seems to be Day's carer - something clearly neither of them want.

So we have two angry men with dealing with massive loss - and knowing P'Aof, we will go along on their journey acceptance and healing.

Tagging @waitmyturtles, @twig-tea, @ranchthoughts

If you'd like to be tagged in future metas, let me know and I'll add you!

#last twilight the series #bl meta #thai bl #have we got a new name yet?

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oblonger · 4 days

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Chapter 6 of TPaiG: Body Swap Au

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@sincerely-sofie Featuring several characters who haven't appeared up until now! And only one probably won't appear again!

Somebody starts digging too deep.

Grovyle stepped out of the Passage of time, nearly bursting out of his skin with excitement. He was going to see Twig again! After so long, he'd finally be able to reunite with her!

Grovyle's excitement was nearly instantly replaced with confusion as he stepped forward.

He expected Twig to run forward and hug him, or for Kip to tell him where she was...

But he was met with nothing.

Grovyle stepped down the stairs into Kip's home.

It looked abandoned.

Cobwebs and dust bunnies riddled the corners, a small pile of ash sat near one of the walls and the three hay beds on the floor had long since started rotting.

Grovyle stepped up the stairs to find Celebi just as confused as he was.

"Are you sure you got the right time?" Grovyle asked.

"I'm completely certain Grovyle!" Celebi cheerfully responded. "I know I got the right time. They should be home right now." Her expression fell to confusion.

Dusknoir emerged from the Passage of time. Looking around to see if the two were here.

The three stood there in silence as the passage closed. That's when Grovyle noticed a sign that was obscured behind the passage.

He jogged over to look at it, and nearly choked on his own spit when he saw what it was.

VACANT PROPERTY

FOR SALE

Go to post office for details

Grovyle couldn't understand why this was here. He didnt spend a lot of time here, but he knew Kip wouldn't just, abandon his family home. Much less sell it!

A bolt of complete panic and fear rushed through Grovyle.

Unless, for some reason, Twig was gone.

Grovyle told Celebi and Dusknoir about this.

Celebi and Dusknoir were both just as shocked to read the sign. They all agreed to ask for said details.

The three traveled through Treasure Town on their way to the post office. Asking anyone they recognized if they've seen Twig and Kip.

All of them said that, a little under a year ago, Twig and Kip showed up in town, went to Duskull's bank, went home, and then just, disappeared without a trace. Not even a goodbye to anyone.

They had a lead.

They decided to detour to Duskull's bank first.

The three approached Duskull, as he seemed to cower a bit from Dusknoir's presence.

"Hello!~" Celebi began. Duskull seemed to blush a little. "We wanted to ask if you wanted to know anything about Twig and Kip's disappearance!"

"Oh, yes!" Duskull spoke, rising back up from behind the counter. "Uh... it's like I'm sure you've heard already. Twig and Kip showed up, withdrew some money, and then kinda vanished..."

Dusknoir spoke. "Do you know anything more than that?"

Duskull hummed. "Well, not really. But Twig and Kip were acting weird."

Grovyle folded his arms and tilted his head. "In what way?"

Duskull tapped his... Arm? Against where his chin would be. "Well... Kip was super nervous and jumpy. And Twig didnt talk at all. He said she had a sore throat. But she didn't look sick... she just looked angry the whole time... That's all I know... Apparently I'm one of the last people who saw them..."

Grovyle could feel a fury rising within him.

That doesn't sound like either of them at all.

The three gave their thanks and started back on the trail of the Post Office.

Were they being threatened? Was someone possessing Twig, and forcing Kip to withdraw her money for her? Twig was filthy rich last he'd heard. Someone would definitely have wanted to get their hands on Twig's fortune.

Grovyle clenched his fists. As soon as he finds whatever outlaw that did this to them, he will skin them alive. He will-

Dusnkoir put his massive hand on Grovyle's shoulder.

"We'll find her." He reassured Grovyle.

Right. Just because something weird happened, it doesn't mean she's dead or been kidnapped.

It doesn't guarantee that it was anyway.

The three entered into the post office.

The bored looking Croconaw at the desk perked up when they entered. "Hello, hello! Do you have a letter you need to send or recieve? Because you've come to the right place! How may I help you today?"

"Well, it's about that property west of here. Sharpedo Bluff?" Dusknoir asked.

"Ah yes! Are you interested in buying? I can get you in contact with the realtor!" He cheerfully stated, pulling out a flyer featuring an advertisement for the place.

"Well~... We were actually wanting to ask about the property's previous residents!" Celebi voiced in an upbeat tone.

Croconaw flinched a bit.

"Ah, well I'm afraid I don't have much to offer about that. I pretty much only know what everyone else knows." He gave a nervous chuckle.

Grovyle narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding something."

Croconaw's eyes shifted away and back. "What, no!" A bead of sweat ran down the side of his head.

Grovyle leaned forward and pointed a claw at him. "Tell me what you know or I'll-!"

Grovyle flinched when Dusknoir gently placed his hand on his shoulder. Grovyle looked at him before taking a slow breath.

"Kip and Twig are their friends." Dusknoir spoke. Slowly and softly. "If you do know anything, please tell us. We're worried for their safety, and we don't know what happened to them."

Croconaw stared at them before leaning forward onto his arms and sighing.

"Look." He uttered, in a much more gravelly voice than the one he'd been using. He glanced around to make sure they're alone. "I really do want to tell you, but I can't."

"Why not?" Grovyle demanded.

Croconaw rotated a hand around.

"Because I'm not allowed to."

Croconaw saw the subdued anger in Grovyle's expression, and leaned back, showing his hands in a defensive way.

"What I can tell you is that, as far as I know, they are safe. They werent kidnapped or paying a ransom or anything."

Grovyle's heart rose and sank. Who's to say he isn't just in on it and lying?

Croconaw leaned to the side and grabbed some papers from under the counter.

"All I can do is give you the ads Kip asked for a couple of days before they disappeared."

He set down a stack of something between 15-20 papers. The topmost ad featuring a property that's for sale near Amp Plains.

Croconaw looked at them. "I'm sorry I can't do more. I'd tell you everything if I could."

Celebi and Grovyle both stared at him with furrowed brows before Dusknoir reached over and picked up the stack.

"Thank you for your help." He said, giving a slow nod. "We appreciate what little information you could spare."

Croconaw gave a smile that at least looked genuine. "I'm happy I could help!" He remarked, the roughness of his voice completely absent now.

"And if you ever need to send something in the mail, you know where to go!" The three began to leave when Croconaw called them back.

"I just remembered, I was transfered here a few days before the two left."

Grovyle raised an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with this?"

Croconaw rubbed the back of his head. "Well. I thought you might have wanted to know, that for the few days I was here, everything felt... Heavy." He paused to think of the words. "Like, the entire town just had this miasma of dread hanging over it. But I woke up a few days after Kip showed up and the feeling was completely gone."

Dusknoir stopped flipping through the ads and his eye widened as Croconaw described what he'd felt.

Celebi thanked him for the help and the three exited the building and plopping down on a nearby bench. Exhausted from all the walking and talking they had to do today. It was already twilight.

Grovyle stared out into the sunset. It's beautiful. He's so grateful that Dialga allowed him to live so he could see it.

But the fact that Twig is missing made him feel like the same desperate outlaw he was all those years ago.

He went through hell and back, and nearly died more times than he can count. And now that everything had finally been fixed, she's gone.

Grovyle felt like he might cry. He didn't want to, but he might.

"Are you okay Dusknoir?" Celebi asked, Grovyle glanced over to see that his hands were shaking.

"A legend is involved." Dusknoir voiced with barely suppressed fear.

Both grovyle and Celebi flinched and looked at him like he'd just asked for a plate of grimy food.

He turned to them and articulated that what Croconaw had explained was the same feeling that he had felt whenever he was around Dialga.

Grovyle was staring at him before he looked down at the ground.

Okay, frick. This is much worse than some outlaw.

Twig's life is in danger. And as far as he knows, she could be on the other side of the planet.

... She could be dead.

Grovyle held his head in his hands and spoke these thoughts aloud.

Then, his eyebrows furrowed. He lifted head out of his now damp hands and looked at the two.

"Wait... Why would a legend manipulate them into buying a house?"

Dusknoir blinked in shock and looked down at the ads he held. His hands were no longer shaking.

"I... I don't know. I can't think of any legend i've heard of that would do this..."

The three sat in stunned silence. Celebi lowered herself and crossed her arms, resting them and her chin on top of the back of the bench.

Grovyle sighed. "Okay, so we have no idea who this... How are we supposed to find them?"

The only noise they made was Dusknoir looking through the ads. Then Celebi perked up.

"Wait! We already know where they might be!"

She pointed to the stack of papers.

"They have to be in one of these houses! All we have to do is go to each one, and we'll eventually find them!"

Dusknoir looked at her. "Is that really what you have in mind?"

Celebi looked at him, irate. "You got any better ideas?"

Dusknoir stared at her for a few seconds before sighing. "I do not."

"Well then!" Celebi zipped around to be in front of them. "I can use practice opening passages to specific spots!"

Grovyle sighed. It wasn't a great plan, but he was relieved.

They'll find Twig.

And hopefully they'll find whatever legend that decided to screw with his sister.

#text post #pmd eos #fanfic of a fanfic #the present is a gift au #writing #pmd #fanfic #body swap au #pmd2 #Grovyle is gonna go feral mode ON SIGHT

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kayhi808 · 1 year

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Billy Mine - Act 2.1

Leaving Ray of Hope Children's Home felt so…final. It's what I wanted, but I had a hard time adjusting to family life all the same. I mised Billy Mine. He was like a drug in my veins and I was going through withdrawals.

My new parents, Patrick & Christina Ellis were wonderful. They were so patient and kind and loving. They are so much more than I deserved. Before I started high school, my father decided to throw his hat into the political ring. He went from local New York politics to becoming a US Senator. It made life more hectic. We were more in the spotlight. Of course being in the spotlight brings out a lot of lunatics as well. My father gets regular death threats that the Secret Service are aware of. Others are just threats from unhinged individuals.

A few days ago, I was attacked on my way home from work. Police think it was a potential kidnapping to use against my father. Luckily I was able to fend them off, but not without injury. I have stiches on my forehead, a black eye, a busted lip, bruised ribs & they dislocated my shoulder. Years of Muay Thai actually paid off. I don't think they were expecting me to fight back. I wasn't so helpless that they could have just plucked me off the street. I was causing too much of a scene and I'm sure some of them are in worst condition than I am. Bystanders came to my aide, and they took off. Mom & Dad were in NY not DC at the time, so when they found out, I got brought straight back to their place. Not that I complained too much, I felt like crap.

*****

"Baby, do you mind coming outside? There's someone I need you to meet. It'll only take a minute." Dad wraps an arm around me to help me out of my chair.

I couldn't hold back a groan. "I'm really not in the mood to see people," as he leads me out onto the terrace.

"I know, Jules. I swear, it'll just be a minute. I hired security for you and I want you to meet him."

"Daaaddd," I hiss and stop in my tracks but he keeps ushering me forward.

A man stands with his back to me looking out over the Manhattan skyline. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair, bespoke suit…my skin breaks out in goose bumps.

Hearing our arrival, he turns around & greets my father, "Senator Ellis."

"Thank you so much for meeting here instead of the office." They shake hands. "My daughter, Jules."

He turns his attention to me & I'm lost in his obsidian gaze. There's only one other person who has eyes like that. I can hardly catch my breath. I feel faint and clutch my dad's arm tighter. "Billy Mine" I whisper. Billy's eyes widen with recognition before the darkness takes me.

******

"Sweetheart? Jules."

"Dad?" I open my eyes to find I'm still on the terrace, but on the chaise lounge not on the floor. Shit. Billy.

"You need me to take you back to the hospital? How do you feel?" Dad asked crouched down beside the chair.

"No. No. Don't do that. I'm ok." I look around. I couldn't have been hallucinating. Billy steps nearer. "Billy Russo."

Billy hands me a glass of water, "Here. Drink this."

"You two know each other?" I hear a protective tone in my dad's voice. Billy's eyes dart to mine.

"A..a long time ago. Ray of Hope. W...we were there."

Billy looked to be more in shock than I was. "Juliet."

"Bill owns the security company I've hired to watch over you, until the police or secret service find those men," reassuringly pats my leg. "Nothing like that will ever happen again."

Bill clears his throat, "We'd like to sit down and discuss your daily routine and schedule but we can arrange that for a better time," nodding at me & handing me his business card. I take it, careful not to touch him. "Please call my assistant to schedule something when you feel up to it."

He scans my face & injuries. His eyes are hard like the day he saw my bruises from Carla. Scary mad. "Of course. Thank you."

"Excellent. Thank you again for coming out here. I greatly appreciate it. Jules will set an appointment soon. She's still recovering."

"You're welcome, Senator. Completely understandable."

"Let me see you out."

"No, I can see myself out. Stay with your daughter." Turning to me, "It was good to see you again, Juliet, despite these circumstances."

I can only nod, my throat tightens with the sobs and cries I try to hold back. I haven't thought about him in over a decade but to watch him leave, I wanted to run after him. Have him take me with him.

"Jules?? What's wrong?" Dad brushes away tears that I didnt even know had fallen. "Are you in pain? I can get a doctor out here."

"No. I'm sorry." I start crying and my dad hugs me, "It suddenly feels overwhelming. But I'm ok. I promise." I lie to him. "Maybe if I just lay down for a minute." I kiss his cheek and squeeze his hand as he helps me return to my room.

I take some pain meds yet still sleep restlessly, tormented by dreams of Billy Mine.

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @snowkestrel @ellooo0ooo @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers @terry2227 @e-dubbc11

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #billy mine #billy x juliet #billy mine x bunny girl

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girlwiththenegantattoo · 2 years

Text

Let Me Help You

So I got this idea from a Golden Girl episode where Rose (RIP Betty White) is addicted to pain killers and the girls stay up with her throughout the night.

This is the first thing I've written where it literally feels like a bunch of "and thens" but I already went through all the trouble of editing and posting.

Warnings: Smut and mention of drug use/addiction

Tagging @plainlo-inthemorning and @everythingbutresolved

“The bishop may move as many squares diagonally as you wish, so long as it is not blocked by another piece."

"I heard what you said but it doesn't make any sense" you snapped feeling instantly guilty for doing so. Letting out a quiet grunt you all but slammed your elbow on the table and buried your hands in your hair. This wasn't working and you were only 2 hours in.

You just have to make it until the morning.

"What's troubling you, my child?"

Father Paul asked as he sat down next to you at the end of the only pier in Crockett Island. How he came to find you in that particular spot had surprised you. Especially because you went there to be left alone. If you truly had to guess you’d guess it was Struge. The man looked burly and intimidating but was a devout follower and a regular at St Patrick's. He probably alerted the local priest as he watched you make your way to the pier, by yourself, for the 8 consecutive day. Though such an act can be seen as a healthy, daily routine, you were sure it was the staying for hours on in that had brought the most attention to you. Knowing very little about Father Paul you were hesitant to speak, even if deep down you were appreciative of someone lending their ear and knowing they wouldn’t cast judgement.

"Have you ever...struggled...with something and people look down on you for it? You eventually asked.

Father Paul thought for a moment before he spoke. "Maybe they aren't looking down on you. Maybe they are just worried."

"Even if it's not hurting anyone?"

"It could be hurting you." Father Paul replied, his gaze still fixed forward, onto the water when you turned your head to look at him.

"Yea well I don't think that's an issue."

That day he'd offered to have NA meetings with you. Although he wasn't sure what all went into them he could easily find out. Plus, he was already doing AA meetings with Reilly and surely it couldn't be much different. At the time you scoffed at the idea, because unlike Reilly you hadn't done anything to affect others life and you figured it was just your paranoia that made you feel like you were drawing people’s attention to your 'habit'. Although, your lethargic speech and lopsided smiles were surely enough to draw some suspicion.

When you heard his second idea you thought it was more absurd then the first. He had suggested that you could stay over for a night. Being at the rectory would offer you less temptations than your home and would be strictly used to keep an eye on you. The small space would give the perfect opportunity to speak with him while distracting yourself from the outside world.

"I don't do the Bible thing. I'm mad at a-lot of people in my life and he is at the top of the list."

Father Paul nodded in genuine understanding and made a mental note to come back to that on a different day. He continued to intently look at you, waiting patiently to hear, what you were now sure he knew, was another excuse.

Why you agreed to any of it was currently, completely last on you. Two hours into what was to be the longest night of your life and your withdrawal symptoms had already started before you knocked on his door. Paul promised you that you would just have to make it through the night and after that everything would be downhill.

Bouncing your knee up and down under the table you finally looked up to see Father Paul looking at you in sympathy.

"We can do something else if you'd like.

How was he being this calm?

You had chills, body aches and an irritation level that was through the roof. You had offered him nothing but impatience and anger since you arrived, even being downright crass. Yet he sat by waiting attentively. Willing to do whatever he could to help.

Your chair made a loud scraping noise against the wooden floor as you quickly stood up.

"I can't do this...I mean I'm fine really. I gave you my medication so I'm just going to go home."

As you headed for the front door Father Paul spoke. "You know if you leave this will never stop."

You knew he was right, but that fact wouldn't help your discomfort end any sooner. Turning the brass doorknob Paul spoke again, this time his voice was more assertive.

"Y/n"

Father Paul hadn't known what came over him in that moment, but he did know he promised that he would help you and he was going to make sure he followed through.

"I want you to go sit down on the couch."

You had every chance to turn the doorknob, step outside and make your marry way back to your home but there was something about Paul's sudden change in demeanor that transfixed you to your spot.

Your eyes never left each other as Father Paul stood by the small table and watched you take your seat. Walking over to stand in front of you he made sure that he had your full attention.

"I told you I'd help you. So please...Let me help you."

Although his voice and demeanor had changed to something softer now there was a darkness that looked to be clawing its way forth. Father Paul sat down to the right of you, his knees touching yours. Taking his right hand, he gently caressed your cheek and turned your head to face him.

"I think I know what you need. What you really need, but I want to hear you say the words"

The man constant change of demeanor was starting to severally confuse you, yet you knew exactly what he was asking. You hadn’t had the energy to weigh the pros and cons, but since he told you to stay, you hadn't thought once about any of your withdrawal symptoms.

Opening your dry lips, you softly said "I want you to help me, Father."

It was eerily quiet before Father Paul let out a relieved sigh, suddenly crashing his lips into yours.

Opening your mouth to grant him access, your tongues danced together as his frenzied hands worked to find the bottom of your shirt when he abruptly stopped. Looking over the couch he gestured to his bedroom.

"Let's make you more comfortable."

You followed him to the room where all you could hear was your own heartbeat. He stopped and stood next to his patchwork covered bed, his hand reaching out for yours.

"Lay down for me, will you? I'm going to take all of your pain away." He whispered against your ear sending a shiver up your spine. Slowly following his command, you awkwardly laid in the middle of the bed. You watched in complete aw as Father Paul remove his clerical collar while deft fingers undid each button on his black shirt. Tugging the bottom out from under where he kept it tucked in his jeans, he pulled at his cuffs to remove it from his arms and off his body. His mahogany brown eyes were now blow wide lust, something of which you had never seen before.

"Forgive me Father, for I am about to sin."

The bed dipped as he placed one knee on the right side of your body, swinging the other over you and straddling your upper thighs. His large frame on top of making you feel caged in, but only in the most wonderful way. His lips collided with yours again, becoming madly intoxicating as you wondered how many times he's done this before. Trailing his lips from your mouth to your neck, Father Paul used a finger to pull down your shirts collar so he could run his mouth over the smooth skin of your clavicle.

"Let's get this out of the way, hmm."

It hadn't been a question; however, you weren’t sure you would be able to answer him regardless.

Father Paul all but ripped the thin material of your shirt up and off your body before sitting back and studying you. His features now looked animalistic, a predator waiting to jump on his prey. All signs of the faithful, caring man were now long gone. Running both hands up your torso his thumbs traced the outline of your rib cage before reaching behind you to undo your bra. Even though you still wore your tattered jeans you now felt so exposed.

Moving down to your legs he made quick work of your button and zipper, sliding off your pants. Bringing his focus back to your face his brows furrowed. While he had been distracted with your lower half, you'd covered your breast with your left forearm and hand.

"There is no need to hide yourself. You are absolutely perfect as you are." Father Paul's tone was soft and genuine leaving no room for you to feel like he was lying. As you hesitantly removed your arm, he lowered himself over your chest and ran his tongue over one of your peaked nipples.

A low moan crawled out from your throat as your back shot up from the mattress and you arched your body into his. Lifting his head Father Paul palmed your other breast, softly tugging and rolling the other harden nipple between his fingers. The way you were writher underneath him was something he hoped he would always remember.

"You're so responsive for me y/n"

Moving back up to your lips Father Paul began to undo his belt, the metallic jiggle of the material setting your core on fire. You reached down to cup the erection that sat painfully confined behind his jeans when he pulled away from you again and slowly shook his head. "This is not about me. I want you to lay back and let me take care of you." Paul hadn't missed the slight look of disappointment that covered you face.

Wasting no time, he ran a finger over the cotton materiel that covered the junction of your legs causing you to let out a gasp.

"Is that it?

He sounded as if he was fighting a battle inside his head. A side wanting to completely destroy you and the other wanting nothing but to make you truly feel loved.

Removing your last article of clothing Father Paul's long fingers exploded your fold. "So wet too" he all but growled working the pads of his fingers over your sensitive bud. Very few words were needed as he went off your body’s reactions of each touch. Using two fingers he circled your opening before working them inside and setting a gentle pace. You weren't sure if it was the care Father Paul was putting into his ministrations or if he was just finding the perfect spot, but you were beginning to come undone and fast.

"I can feel you holding back, just let go" he whispered while speeding up his movements. Your hips bucked on their own accord and your body convulsed with a loud cry that was ripped from you.

"I know, Angel." Paul soothed as he slowed his fingers. Riding you through your high he then pulled his fingers from you and gave you another fervent kiss. Sitting back on his knees, frantic hands undid his jeans button and zipper, hastily pulling them and his briefs down to his lower thigh. The sheer size of him had caught you off guard but you hadn't had time to stare for he was laying back down between your legs.

Resting a hand on the side of your head Paul used his other to caress your cheek. "Are you ready?" Biting your lip, you eagerly shook your head as you watched him trail his hand down your body and grab his shaft. With one swift thrust of his hips, he had buried himself to the hilt as his body began to tremble.

"Is this, ok? It's not too much is it?" He rushed as he opened his eyes to intently search yours.

"I'm ok...please...don’t stop."

There was something that switched in him again as his facial expression intensified. When he finally moved, he drew his hips back and slammed them into you. His movements were fast and rough and the grunt that fell from his lips were turning into growls. The bed creaked with every harsh contact of your hips, sending you inching up the mattress. His touches felt like they were everywhere all at once. Grabbing ahold of his back, you felt his muscles flex divinely under your hands.

"I’m close" he uttered almost embarrassingly, his lips leaving yours only long enough to speak. You hadn’t expected for him to last long in the beginning, and you wanted to let him know that it was ok. Taking both of your legs you wrapped them around his hips using your calves to push him further into your heat. It only took 3 more thrust after that before he came with a guttural moan, his hips coming to a stuttering stop.

There were many things that happened that night that you've never experienced before however, the way Father Paul looked into your eyes at that exact moment, was an experience that you were positive, you would never get anywhere else. Father Paul collapsed down beside you and pulled you to his chest. The fast beating of his heart was all you cared to listen to as you both tried to catch your breath. He had returned to his gentle nature, combing your hair out of your forehead and behind your ear. Rubbing the arm you slung over his stomach he let out a quiet single laugh.

"Hmm?" You hummed basking in the aftermath bliss.

"Look out the window," he whispered into your hair. As you lifted your head, a smile covered your lips. Just past the little 4 pane window with the small white curtains that hung above, you could see the sun rising from behind the clouds.

You had made it and he helped you every step of the way

#hamish linklater #midnight mass #father paul #father pruitt #monsignor pruitt

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muses-morii · 7 months

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@knightfeared asked: ❛ how is it that you’re never scared? ❜ from Riku to Sora.

~ Sora ~

The question came as a surprise. They were deep, down in the bowels of a cave, following the cloying stench of Heartless. There'd been reports of Darkness pouring from the area, so Yen Sid had sent the two of them to investigate. The area they'd come into, had been a lush, verdant forest, poisoned by the presence of Heartless. No animals made noise among the trees, no birds sang. There wasn't even the buzz of insects. It were as though the forest were void of living things. They'd come into the silence of nothing; nothing but the sound of themselves moving among the ancient plants. Conversation between them had been hushed, the intensity of the silence, compelling the two of them to stay quiet. Eventually, following the Heartless had lead them to a cave of sorts. It looked like ruins of some old temple; Riku had said. The opening was all overgrown, but the stones were still there, carved steps heading down beneath the earth. It were as though the temple above had long since rotted away and all that was left was the basement. Or maybe this was all there ever was, a tomb deep in the depths of a primordial woods. And it was where the Heartless were coming from, therefore, it was where they needed to go. Without so much as a glance behind them, Sora had flashed Riku a smile, given him a thumbs up and then walked forward, heading down the steps into the ruins.

The path sloped ever downward and the two of them pushed onward, battling the Heartless as they went deeper. Eventually the stone floor and walls giving way to earth and softly glowing rocks. The rocks lit the way with a gentle, silver-blue light. Sora had wondered why they glowed, asking out loud if it was magic. Bio luminescence, Riku had said. Explaining there was likely moss or lichen on the stones that gave off light. But, Sora wasn't sure. They entered a large cavern and waiting for them, was a Behemoth. Trapped in the cavern, with no way to get out, it was angry and hungry and ready to tear them apart. Conversation was over and Sora jumped at it with no hesitation, Keyblade flashing into his hands. It was after the battle, that the question came. Riku had a cut on his face and Sora, without thinking, had reached up to heal it, cupping the others cheek, his hand lighting up with a gentle green. It was then, the dim light of the cave, deep in the dark underground, that Riku asked him: “How is it, that you're never scared?” Sora had a feeling, this wasn't just about being in the dark. He looked at Riku, in the faint, silver-blue light from the rocks, noticing how it reflected in his green eyes. His Keyblade disappeared with a sparkle of light and Sora frowned, thinking how best to answer. It felt like there was a lot riding on what he said. That Riku wasn't looking for advice or a boast of confidence. That he was waiting to hear the truth; an honest answer. Truthfully, Sora got scared. He got scared a lot. He was scared that night of the storm on the island. He was scared when Riku had been swallowed by the darkness. He was scared when the Keyblade came to him. “I...” Withdrawing his hand from Riku's cheek, the bleeding cut now healed, Sora looked down at the ground, his eyes focusing on nothing. “I get scared, Riku.” Taking a step back, the younger of the two sighed and reached up scratched at his head. “But, even... When I'm afraid, I know I have to do something. I have to keep moving forward, or else I'll just be alone and scared.”

He looked up at Riku and shrugged, a casual smile playing about his lips. “It's like you said before; we can't let fear stop us.” Sure, Riku had said it during one of the most frightening moments of his life. He was getting eaten by the darkness and vanishing into nothing, leaving him alone on a crumbling island, overrun by demons. “I never forgot that. C'mon!” Turning away from Riku, Sora jogged ahead a bit, going further into the cave where there were heartless waiting for them. “We've come this far!” He laughed a bit, the sound echoing warmly around the large cavern.

#knightfeared #Riku || Sora #Muse: Sora #Sora Verse: ???#Long post #I don't know what world this is #or why there is a deep dark cave #I just thought it'd be fun!#Hope this is okay!#Thanks so much for sending in!

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feelin-lo · 1 year

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Comfort in Insanity.

Celtic x Raloris.

Suggested by @boiling-potato , Celtic belongs to @aesopsbaby .

This is my attempt at a slow burn style fic, so excuse the length, I did my best.

"ILL KILL YOU!"

That was a few hours ago, as the sun hit its peak in the sky, the group had hit a den of monsters, sparks flew, Blood was spilled, blades clashed and wounds were opened.

The last one left standing, a manic man with elven heritage. The others; too tired to move or too beaten up to stay awake "FALL BACK. THAT'S AN ORDER RALO!" the leader yelled as the Manic lifted his polearm, swinging without restraint, leaving no living beast behind.

He had bathed in blood that day, speaking in unhinged, ethereal language as his blade hit skin. He carried his comrades with his leader, to the nearest town.

"You disobeyed an order raloris." He scolded, eyes meeting lost windows into the soul of the ruined "And yet, here we are." Raloris said meeting the leaders gaze.

They found an empty tavern, not a soul in sight. They paid their fare and slipped their injured companions into rooms, taking hours from the day and giving them to the ones on the brink.

"Vince and Sylvester are fine. Zion is also unconscious. I gave him a small elixir to help him sleep. The other two have been patched up and are also resting" Raloris said, drying sweat from his face. "That was a close one." Celtic sighed, running his hands through his hair "Want a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Despite it being so late, the tavern was empty, the whole place was theirs to wander in. "What'll it be lads?" The tall and gruff bartender asked "Two honey meads Ma'am" Raloris smiled, sliding some coins her way "and a jug of whatevers strongest." He added, slipping her an extra gold or three.

Celtic took a seat and Raloris brought their drinks, sitting down opposite his leader and sliding the mead over. "What you did today was reckless and irresponsible. You of all people should know better. When I tell you to withdraw, you do it. Am I understood?" Celtic scolded, leaning forward and glaring "You sound like my dad." Raloris sighed, sitting back and taking a swig of his mead, looking outside to see some birds in a nest "They're so free..." Raloris sighed, his mood plummeting.

"apologies."

"You got nothing to be sorry for. You aren't a racist, misogynistic, overbearing, sexist, disgusting excuse for a living being." Raloris said, almost becoming a new person, venom in every word. But, by now, Celtic was used to such dramatic changes.

"Why do you care so much about wether or not I follow orders or not? I'm a stranger! I could kill you, I might be deceiving you right now. I might have poisoned your mead, stabbed you with a magic dagger or-!" "Stop it. Just.. stop. You're having a moment again"

Raloris took a deep breath "Thanks." He said, rubbing his temple and sighing. "And to answer your question" Celtic started, taking a sip of mead "Because I care about you. We've had countless drinks together, countless moments where we are at each others mercy. I know more about you than you do."

"that doesn't-"

"And I know about your past. When we went to your hometown, all of the elves looked at you differently. I know how that feels. I can relate in some way". Celtic interjected, stopping Raloris from objecting. "You... i..." Raloris said, a tear starting to form in his eye "What about Vince?"

"Yes, I care about Vince and sylv, All of our teammates. I love them all. But... when we share something intoxicating, be it a drink or a session of tears and anguish, it feels different"

Raloris, for once in his long life... was speechless.

He was able to find a word or two after a long moment of silence. "I don't know which one you're talking about. Be it me or the me who's not me. Was I ever really me to begin with? Who was this me that arrived when father died? Was that the real me and the me that I am now a fake? Was I never really real? Was I a figment of my own imagination? Was i-!" Raloris was in tears at this point and it brought something up that was deep in Celtic, he reached forward and cupped Raloris' cheeks, pulling him close as he slowly pressed his lips to the half elf.

He could taste alcohol on Raloris' lips, intoxication in his saliva, and salt from his tears, his instincts took over in a way, a hand coming up behind Ralo's head and deepening this thing they had started, they had no choice but to pull away for air, Raloris chased oxygen like a starved man while Celtic stared breathless, looking into Raloris' eyes as he spoke sincerely;

"I don't care which one I'm speaking to. I'm speaking to you, and there's something about the way you walk, talk and hold yourself. I just feel things that I never knew I could feel when I see you. And when I see you break down like this which I have only ever seen once before, it makes my heart cry. Raloris, when you get hurt, be it a monster or a rock you trip on, I get angry and want to destroy it. When you slay an enemy I feel so so proud that I fight beside you." He said, shakily breathing as he spoke, adrenaline ran though his veins like a marathon, it never seemed to stop.

It seemed Raloris felt the same, finding his lips on Celtic once again, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest, he ran his hands through Celtic's jet black hair, it was soft, endless.

Endless as the night itself, endless as his respect...no... love, for Celtic. Raloris had to pull away, needing more air "I get it. I feel the same except I can't find the words for once in my life" he gasped, no longer drunk on mead, but on the taste of Celtic.

Sight: Celtic

Sound: Celtic's breathing

Taste: Mead and celtic.

Celtic, Celtic, Celtic.

His eyes wandered Celtic's frame, gripping at his shirt and placing his head in his chest he smelt nice, like a warrior. Like a friend. Someone he could depend on, someone he could risk everything for-

His thought was stopped by the bartender, who slipped and elixir on the table "Look, if you boys are gonna do this, take it upstairs at least." He said and both boys went an extreme shade of red. After a little embarrassing conversation with the bartender, they shuffled outside and observed the stars "That was awkward." Raloris joked, still as red as the blood they had spilled that morning."

"Sorry. There's something about The way you taste Raloris.... addicting.." Celtic said under his breath to have at least a little bit of Pride left over, but with Ralo's enhanced hearing, he could hear every word and it made him blush even harder "we can... do that again if you'd like? Take it a little more slowly this time?" Raloris offered, shuffling closer to Celtic, able to smell his scent again. "Sure" Celtic said, shuffling closer, only millimetres away from the half elf.

Raloris was gentle and Celtic was just as gentle, pressing their lips together again as A meteor shower fell behind them, filling the sky as the magical moment occured.

#Celtic x Raloris #Thank you BP #You Legend #Celtic is protective asf #Raloris is struggling with himself #slow burn #Attempted slow burn at least #forgive me

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nicholerhe · 1 year

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Not For Broadcast One-Shot - "Day 2737"

The smell of coffee hit her nose at precisely the same time the cat started licking her. Jenny opens her eyes, blinking back the crustiness of sleep before pushing herself to a sitting position. Her senses slowly start to take everything in - the sun shining in from the window, the cat's soft purrs, and the low drone of the TV in the living room. She pulls herself to her feet, scooping up the chunky Calico to hold in her arms, before leaving the room.

He’s sitting on the couch, facing away from her with legs crossed. He sips from her National Nightly News mug, watching the TV without actually watching the TV. He couldn't really sleep, but that was usual. He had woken up a few hours prior and carefully extracted himself from bed, trying so hard not to wake her - she slept so peacefully and it would be so cruel to wake her like that.

Leaning her head against the archway, Jenny stands there for a moment, watching him. God, she loves him. So long she went without him - how did she even survive?

He hears the soft creaking of the floorboards in their apartment and smiles to himself: she's awake. Finally. "Enjoying the view?" Jeremy asks, rolling his head to the side to see Jenny out of the corner of his eye.

"Damn," she quips, heading over to the couch and sitting down beside him, "I'm losing my touch." She lets the cat down onto Jeremy's lap.

"I find it endearing," he says, scratching the Calico behind the ears.

"Of course you do, git."

"Not prick? Have I been demoted?" Jeremy says, feigning offence.

"Oh piss off," Jenny chuckles, gently swatting his arm. He catches her hand before she can withdraw it and gives it a reassuring squeeze, "Happy birthday."

"You remembered," she comments half-jokingly.

"I could never forget," he smiles. It makes her heart melt. "There's coffee, would you like some?"

"Is that even a question?" She springs to her feet and heads to the kitchen.

She opens the cabinet and takes a long moment to ponder which mug to choose before settling on a ruby red one. It’s quite adorable , Jeremy muses, how careful she could be about certain mundane aspects of life . As she pours her coffee and adds some sugar, Jeremy's thoughts drift to other things. Things he tries to keep down, keep locked away so as not to bother anyone with his problems - but sometimes they come to the surface anyways. Like a festering wound. Sitting there, at the edge of his mind or forming a pit in his stomach, just aching and hollow. Jenny, bringing her coffee mug back to the living room, must have noticed the faraway look in his eyes. "Enjoying the view?" she jokes lightly as she sits down beside him again. Her face softens and becomes serious, "you want to talk about it?" She reaches for the remote to flip the TV off.

"No… this is your day."

"That doesn't mean we're forbidden from talking about you."

"Yes, but birthdays are supposed to be happy. Time spent with loved ones."

She takes a sip of coffee before setting the mug on the coffee table, "I had a few shitty birthdays in the past few years. Some good ones, to be fair. But more than enough shitty ones. Nothing you say can make anything about this day unhappy."

"Yes, but-"

"Nothing," she finishes for him, placing a warm hand over his own. "You know why?"

"Why?" he asks, voice no more than a whisper.

"Because you’re here and I love you. That's all that matters."

He stares back at her, unable to form words yet overcome with strong emotion. So, he does the only logical thing that comes to his mind - he leans forward and presses his lips to hers. She's surprised at first but quickly adjusts to it, hands finding their way to loop around his neck. It’s all so simple, slow, and soft. Time treks on around them, but they pay it no heed. She pulls away after a while, still remarkably close but enough of a gap for her to speak, "I see what you did there. "

"You caught me."

Jenny relaxes back on the couch, leaning on him. "I'm always here to talk about it, though."

He slides his arm around her. "I know you are."

She sighs, resolving to change the subject, "any surprise parties I should prepare for?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, " he drawls.

Jenny groans, "you know I hate surprises."

"Well, damn… Guess I need to make a few calls to cancel some things."

"I would laugh if I didn't think you were being serious…"

"Guess you'll find out…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jenny sticks one final bobby pin into her bun before stepping back to admire herself in the mirror. She had to admit, she feels rather attractive in this outfit - a black pleated skirt and the maroon jumper her sister had crocheted for her Christmas a few years ago. It elegantly toes the line between casual and formal, but - more importantly - it's comfortable. Jenny simply can't resist a good comfy jumper, after all.

He appears at the doorway to their bathroom long before she realises he's there. His head rests against the door frame as he watches her rifle through her makeup bag, take out a bobby pin, and stick it into her golden bun.

"You look beautiful," Jeremy says, voice soft. He wears straight black dress pants and his new white dress shirt, holding a deep red tie in one hand.

"You don't look half-bad yourself," Jenny grins, looking him up and down.

"That’s high praise from you."

"You're a git."

"A good-looking git, apparently. Tie?" He extends his arm towards her, clutching the deep red tie.

"Of course," Jenny says, snatching it from his hand. He allows her to loop it around his neck and while she's tying it, she adds, "did I ever tell you how I learned to tie a tie?"

He considers this for a moment, before shaking his head, "I don't think you've mentioned it."

"My dad taught me the basics, and my sister's accessory phase honed my skills."

"Accessory phase?" an amused grin creeps it's way on Jeremy's face.

"Ties, bracelets, necklaces, scarves… she had so many. Wanted to wear them all at once, it felt like."

"And Jess never learned to tie a tie during all of that?"

"Mhm, feel free to poke fun at her for it at dinner tonight." She finishes knotting the tie, letting her hand rest on his chest. He chuckles, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together. They both lean in, touching their foreheads together, and stay like that for a moment. A single solitary moment of calm and bliss. A comfortable escape where everything outside of this moment didn't matter. Jenny couldn't resist a good comfy jumper, in more ways than one.

It's Jeremy who speaks first, "we should head out. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting…"

"Right," Jenny sighs, "Let's continue this later?"

"Of course," Jeremy nods as the two pull apart, their hands still clasped as they leave the apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening passes in a lovely blur. It was nice to spend a birthday with family. Family. Is that really what he was to her now? Jess is her family, and thus so is her brother-in-law, Ben. Janet may not be blood related, but Jenny still feels the same protectiveness, the same love for her best friend that she does for her little sister. When it comes to Jeremy... Her chest feels so warm thinking about him, and she feels so cold thinking about losing him again.

Her head still pleasantly light from all the wine, she lays in bed for a little while, lost in thought, before she realises he's not lying beside her. Concerned, she brings herself to her feet, stumbling her way out of the bedroom.

He sits at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

“Hey,” Jenny calls from her place in the archway, hugging her arms close to herself.

He lifts his head. “Hey, you…”

“What’re you doing up?” she asks, stepping closer to the table.

“Can’t sleep.” He covers his eyes with his hands. Jenny is now behind him, her hands on his shoulders, massaging gentle circles into his muscles - sore and tired from the nightmares that plagued him. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

Reaching up, he takes one of her hands and guides her to sit in the chair next to him. "You already do, just by being here."

"You sappy bastard," she says, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You love me though."

"How did you ever guess?"

A smile plays at Jeremy's lips as his focus settles on the beautiful woman sitting next to him. Her blonde hair is in a loose ponytail hanging down her back, with slight curls leftover from the bun earlier in the night. Her eyes twinkle with memories - so many memories behind those tired, weary features. It’s as though, if he looks deep enough into those eyes, the world around them would grow faint and mushy, and they would be back again in the studio, over a decade ago, to the very moment they first met. She found him annoying then, which she obviously gave away on her face. Perhaps her expressions are not noticeable to the casual observer, but to someone who watches closely, one can notice the tightening of her smile when she’s dissatisfied or how her blue eyes sparkle when she's passionate about something. She still looks beautiful - even after all this time - but now she has dark circles under her eyes, making her look as tired as Jeremy felt.

"Let's talk about something lighthearted," she says after a while, absentmindedly tracing circles with her thumb into Jeremy's palm.

He's quiet for a moment, considering her for a long, hard moment. Finally, he replies, "no."

"No?" Her face twists in momentary confusion.

"I want to talk about everything that happened over the past few years," he pauses before adding, "if you want to, of course."

She smiles softly, easily, "should I get us some wine for this?"

"Yes. I'll get the glasses."

She's about to get up from the table to go fetch the wine, when Jeremy catches her wrist. "Hey. Happy birthday."

"You've already said that today."

"True. But I'm making up for the ones I missed."

She stares back at him, her eyes welling with tears. Then, she leans forwards, giving him a soft peck on the cheek, before going to grab the wine bottle from the fridge.

For the first time since their reunion, Jeremy and Jenny discuss every detail of the past 5 years - from the joyous parts to the most painful ones. And everything is alright, because they have each other.

#not for broadcast #jeremy donaldson #jenny hartley #ao3 #fanfic #fluff

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timeoverload · 1 month

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I am so worn out. It felt like a really long day. I have had a headache since I went to bed last night. I couldn't take anything for it because I have my appointment tomorrow. Hopefully it goes away before then.

This morning was very awkward because the morning team lead and I still aren't talking. I do enjoy the silence but it is a very tense environment to be in. I haven't been in this situation since I started there. The lady that trained me was not very nice but we got along ok for a while. One day she found out what the last 3 digits of my phone number were and she thought I was the devil. She ignored me for months because of that. It was ridiculous and I think that's a stupid reason not to talk to someone. Anyway, I also found out that he isn't planning on going anywhere so that sucks. He went to ask my boss if he would be able to take 3 weeks off for his wedding next year. I already know that I am not going to have a good time if I stick around.

I was annoyed earlier while I was in decontam washing a pan because that creepy guy was doing his decontam shift and he wouldn't stop talking to me. He was trying to convince me to go bowling with him. I am not going to do that and I wish he would stop calling me his friend. I'm only nice because I have to be professional. I don't know what else I would have done to give him that idea because I do my best to avoid and ignore him. I wish they would stop asking him to work upstairs. It would be nice if I could just tell him I have a boyfriend so maybe he would back off then.

The afternoon was very busy and I didn't think it was going to be that bad. There was a specialty bilateral case and that took forever and they used a ton of stuff for it. The doctor was being a dick according to the tech and he kept asking them to open more instruments even though it wasn't necessary. He wasn't happy with anything they gave him. I inspected them and they are totally fine. He is just very picky and he was in a bad mood. I think he might have been stressed so I guess I can understand that. He doesn't do that procedure very often. He used a lot of stuff for his other cases too so I had a big pile at the end of the day. I didn't get all of it done but I don't even care. I just focused on the important things. I didn't put anything away even though my shelf was overflowing. I wanted to go home and sit down so badly.

I left and I made myself stop and get fast food. I knew I wouldn't eat anything if I didn't do that. I haven't had that in so long and I ate too much. I feel really gross but I think I needed to do that. I haven't been eating the best and I have been snacking too much. I didn't eat lunch today because they had wings and they looked horrible. I wasn't going to waste $7 on that. I'm just glad I'm full now.

Somehow I am still gaining weight but I think part of that is due to my soda intake. I haven't had a Dr. Pepper in 2 days and I'm grumpy about it. I know I need to stop because it's causing a lot of problems for me. I can also tell when my blood sugar is too high and it's not a pleasant feeling. I am afraid that I will develop diabetes if I don't stop because that runs in the family. I can have one sometimes but I can't do it every day anymore. I think that part of the reason my head hurts is because I am having horrible withdrawals. It's annoying but I think I am ready to quit now. I am just going to be sleepy all the time I guess.

I wish it wasn't so late but I am going to try to relax for a little while anyway. I don't have much else to say at the moment. I already got ready for bed and I'm cozy. I hope I don't fall asleep right away but I don't want to be tired tomorrow either. I think it will be a good day and I am looking forward to it. :)

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too!!! 💖💖💖

#personal

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diaryofagamesmaster · 1 month

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Day -2

Dear Diary,

I know what you're thinking.

Why start at -2? Why not start at 0 or 1?

Well it's simple, really. I made this blog 3 days before my first day at work, so 'Day 1' is the beginning of actually working there. When you think of diaries you don't normally think of negatives but hey-ho, that's the way I've done it and it's sticking.

Anyways! Since you've come this far (or you've spotted it early, lucky you), I'll use it as an opportunity to talk about what's led up to me getting a job, and a bit about me.

I've grown up in an unusual and rural way, living mostly on farms. And granted it's been nice, after all growing up around animals is a genuinely pleasant way of life and helps you understand a surprising a lot about the world quickly. But, you do have to sacrifice some amenities that seem standard, like privacy beyond your house during the day (with farm 1) and toilet plumbing (with farm 2), but it's whatevs.

Few years ago I started the journey to University. Had to make an application for it as part of college's scheme to get students into universities, so I picked one close and went through the courses alphabetically til I found one interesting. Stopped at Archaeology, never made it to B.

And during that first year, things were tough but I ended up making some of the best friends of my life there. Through it, I felt alright in the end, though admittedly I didn't really care much about the education side.

Then second year came about, and I won't lie it began a bit rocky. I moved in with my housemates (the friends I made last year) and turns out, people who live in normal conditions and people who live on farms clash a little over ways of life (that and over the summer I got an OCD diagnosis, yay). But, after a bit, things slowly stabilised; there were arguments and the like but in the end we made it through.

I was also struggling a lot with assignments. Couldn't focus, couldn't deliver assignments to any personally-decent quality, all in all just became a struggle after another. Wasn't really feeling it for University, but I also didn't want to leave my friends, so I was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.

TW: Animal Death

Then, near the very start of 2024, my Border Collie Alfie passed away. I'd grown up with him, literally, for the past 18~ years. Saw him from rescue pup when we got him to his sundown years, and I'm glad he lived a long and happy life. But when he did pass, it hit me like a truck. I'd never had a close death before, and I didn't know how to cope. So much had changed, and I felt it was the right time to really change things, so I began the process of withdrawing from university.

Initially, I didn't want to do anything at all and just wanted to stop one difficulty. For about a month, I was idly looking for jobs, but nothing serious. Then I partially reignited a desire to go back to University, this time in a different part of the country, but that's fizzled out. However during that reignition, I put in more effort to get a job, and...

...Well, I ended up here. Ended up getting 2 job offers in 1 day, and I took them both! One's seasonal (aka not this one), and the other's hopefully one that'll evolve into something full time (after all this is entry -2, I haven't been to work yet!). Stuff like D&D's a huge hobby of mine, so having the opportunity to put that Dungeon Master knowledge of suspense, tension, and dealing with people figuring out puzzles was perfect for me.

So, with that bit of backstory out of the way, thanks for giving this a read! Hopefully you'll join me on my journey moving forward, and you enjoy the silly stuff I share with you all!

#diary entry #dear diary #my diary #escape room #game master #games master #tw animal death #my gm diary

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hippiemikelove-blog · 2 months

Link

#AllCannabinoids #BadRX #Cannabis #CannabisHeals #CannabisRecovery #CBD #Hemp #MikesMedicine #MikesMedicines #MMJ #NatureNotPills #PharmaBeware #StopTheSeizures #THC #WholePlant #Withdraw

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letterstomyfri3nds · 8 months

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Today was a series of knives in my heart. It's been so long since I've struggled this badly, except now I'm doing it with a little one and without any friends left 💔

I used to refuse to buy McDonald's but today we went there just so I could have a slight break from cooking and cleaning more before we went to the laundromat because it was the only thing I could afford. I know you would have told me to brush it off and pointed out how much fun my kid was having and that's what I tried to keep in mind.

I drove to the Walgreens right next to the laundromat to pull out cash from the ATM and pick up some laundry detergent since I was out. Walgreens commonly uses ATMs that don't charge a fee, which is a small grace. The ATM was out of service. I drove back towards the Walgreens closer to where we live and had to stop for gas along the way. A little over $15. I'll have to do some DoorDashing in between work shifts this weekend to make sure I have enough gas to make it back and forth, plus start tackling the two disconnection notices I have currently.

When I got to the next Walgreens and began going through the ATM menu, I realized that it was a different type and they wanted to charge me $3.95 to withdraw from it. I declined and continued to the laundry detergent, looking at the prices and sizes of what they had. Through the roof, of course. I finally decided that I'd just buy some detergent and hand wash a few pieces of clothing for the time being until I wouldn't be spending my last dime at the laundromat.

I miss you so much 😢 😞 😔 you never made me feel like I was out of place, no matter what kind of struggle I was going through or how I wanted to handle it.

I'm so grateful that you made sure we reconnected when you recognized me. I only wish that we had more time before you were gone.

I miss so much the days when I knew that I could look forward to taking a break from my dishes when you came by and force you into trying some cookies I just made. That was the time period when I found the oatmeal raisin recipe that I still use. I wish to God you were still here, I'd make you a different variety of cookies every damned week. I love you so much and I'll see you around 💔🥂

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

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Do you shipbuilding industry is coming to us but not today. You fooled a lot of people. The second fooled a lot of people who went to auto dealerships. Some dealerships hang on most did not. Duddie ford shut the doors yesterday. Huge numbers of people went to the dealership and they're yelling at them give me a forward or die, they called their people and had to withdraw the military pulled them all out. Duddie went and shut down the store and the repair shop in the parts outlet. We're preparing for a switch to that mode. It's not safe for the customer not to mention the salespeople. Foreigners do this too. All over the world. We have three huge intermodal stations and we're building more everyday the garage just get found out then starts a little war. All over Earth. You found it no structure that exists is big enough and you can't break it up. It doesn't take long to build one and we're building five one in each state on the south for 7:00 on the West Coast they'll be done in a couple days and we're going to ship everything you'll see all the cars it already built and we retrofitted for EMP and the fuse box we changed out none of them have been in a storm I'm going to use that storage for distribution. It's done fairly well. Giant number of people protesting in each of the stations everyday. You get dropped off and we'll take their cars I'm going to grab the people who own the cars dropping them off they trace them down when we grab all their cars. We changed the ID. Clean it up and we sell it. Where is the detect anybody who's looking for them. Define mostly 90% of the time or more luck and that's Tommy F or general morlock and we cut them to ribbons. Tons of them are going to die because of all the stuff hitting them all at once and because there are idiotic invasion plans and because the shipping we're taking over ship building we're not letting him have any ships then or engines and we're going to be grabbing their ships we're also taking over their territory in the Midwest and upper Midwest others are fighting for it and we're deleting the rest of the robots and their stashes and caches were taking plus Mac has a program to get them out of government and out of jobs and also they're trying for stuff and fighting everybody and people are stopping them and they're trying to go down and they are getting their asses kicked so the behavior is stupid they're a bunch of blankets to begin with we don't want them here at Sun they won't leave so I didn't teach them a permanent lesson that's good so damned expensive nobody else is going to want to repeat it already we hear foreigners saying too these people are serious and these people are serious and we are when it comes to him so who can it be that these lousy pieces of crap who are mooches and then start going after them and more like her on their knees in seconds and they just keep going through them. It's time to thank them for thousands of years of bad times illnesses threats wars and other things they say they weren't doing cuz they're incompetent now we're attacking them they're going to fall soon enough and they're starting to break but here they keep harassing our son with tons of stuff and effort we need to put it on here we dont look so good here we need to.

I'm ordering it now we'll have other businesses to talk about and we can do that in a moment

Thor Freya

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grassylampshade · 3 years

Text

Fireside

Another @whataboutthebard prompt, inspired by @mayastormborn! I'm a few days late for September 22, but work was shit this week. Enjoy!

Title: Fireside

Prompt: Sex Pollen (potion sex is kind of sex pollen, right?)

Pairing: Eskel/Jaskier

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: the inherent consent issues of barely-controlled lust (that's the essence of sex pollen, tho)

Read on AO3

Jaskier has just thrown another log onto the fire when Eskel ghosts back into camp. His eyes flash an eerie green gold from across the clearing and Jaskier stumbles back over a log before he realizes what manner of beast has set its sights on him.

“You scared me half to death!” Jaskier puts a hand over his heart, feeling it gallop under his breastbone. To Eskel’s silent stare, he replies, “You’re done much sooner than expected. Hunt go well?” He heads to their bags to grab the wound kit.

The moment he turns his back, Eskel is upon him, arms as tight and unyielding as hoops on a barrel. He bullies Jaskier forward against a tree and immediately starts grinding against Jaskier’s rump, erection evident even through Eskel’s heavy leather codpiece.

“What are you— Does this mean the hunt went very well or very badly?” Jaskier asks. He cranes his neck, trying to get a look at Eskel’s face, but Eskel immediately dives down to sniff and lick the column of Jasker’s throat. His movements become more urgent and his bites are progressively rougher. Eskel sucks at the delicate skin covering Jaskier’s pulse point and he growls a low, predatory sound that sends a shiver down Jaskier’s spine.

Jaskier hasn’t prepared himself for a witcher suddenly going into rut, and with the way that Eskel has snapped the laces of Jaskier’s pants without his customary respect for expensive clothing, he doubts Eskel has all his wits about him. Jaskier is not in the least bit interested in limping to the nearest town, nor is he in the mood for weathering Eskel’s hangdog face if Jaskier has to pad Scorpion’s saddle to cushion his sore arse.

“Eskel,” he snaps, stiffening in Eskel’s grip rather than hanging pliant. He waits until Eskel grunts a questioning sound. “Let go and step back.”

Eskel pauses then slowly draws his arms away as though doing it physically pains him. He doesn’t put any distance between them, but also he doesn’t pounce when Jaskier turns around. It’s too dark for Jaskier to see clearly when Eskel is backlit by the fire, so he sets his hands on Eskel’s shoulders—mindful of his spiked armor—and turns them sidelong. Eskel is bone white and his eyes are dark pits. Eskel grabs Jaskier’s hips tightly, fingers digging into the muscle. His gaze roves over all the sensitive places Jaskier likes to be touched, and Eskel licks his lips.

“Swords off. Come here,” Jaskier orders, striding briskly to the fireside. He bends down to pile their bags against the end of a convenient log and Eskel's hands immediately find his ass before one sneaks between his thighs to grope his balls from behind. Jaskier hisses with surprised pleasure but bares his teeth as if displeased.

“Did I give you permission to touch?”

Eskel withdraws his hands as though burned, but he settles them both on his own groin instead and rocks into the pressure.

“Did I give you permission to touch?” Jaskier asks again, acerbic. Eskel drops his hands more slowly, appearing confused that he doesn't have rights to his own body. They've played this game before, but the details must be obscured by the fog of lust.

“If you want me,” Jaskier explains slowly, “you belong to me. That cock, and everything attached to it”—he slowly looks Eskel up and down—“is mine.”

Eskel growls but Jaskier stands firm until, after a long, tense moment, Eskel nods. Jaskier unties Eskel's breeches quickly, but Eskel chases the touch and is left panting by the time Jaskier tosses the leather cup aside.

Eskel's prick juts out like the prow of some mighty ship. Beads of wetness glisten like seafoam and Eskel's breath catches as Jaskier reaches out to touch. At the last instant he pulls back, and he's flattered when Eskel’s cock flexes upward as if reaching for him.

“It won't hurt me, will it?” Jaskier asks. Eskel blinks, not comprehending. “Your essence,” he clarifies, “from the potion.” Eskel shakes his head stiffly. Jaskier had assumed the toxins would go out with the waste, but assumptions wouldn't have saved him from a burned hand or worse.

He reaches into Eskel’s unreasonably tight breeches to lift his balls out through the empty space where the codpiece used to be. Eskel groans with relief and Jaskier is glad he noticed so Eskel wouldn't be pinched when he sat. He drags his eyes away from the tempting sight of all of Eskel’s tender bits on display and unfurls their sleeping mats so he can guide Eskel to recline with his legs straight out in front.

“Are we safe?” Jaskier asks, and Eskel goes deathly still, looking for all the world like he is prepared to take on a dragon with his breeches flapping in the breeze. Then Eskel grunts and the watchful tension leaves him. Tension of another kind mounts; Eskel humps the air, desperate and mindless. He makes several aborted movements to grab his cock or to pull Jaskier close but restrains himself.

“Very good,” Jasker purrs, impressed. He lays across Eskel's thick thighs and feels the trembling of his muscles. Eskel's prick jumps at the praise.

“Oh it aches, doesn't it?” Jaskier croons. He licks his lips, so very close.

Eskel stares at him, hunger writ clear in the shadowed angles of his face. He squirms under Jaskier's weight and Jaskier knows Eskel could throw him down if he chose to. The thrill of power is heady and addicting.

Jaskier leans forward and breathes hot over the dusky end of Eskel's prick. Eskel grabs Jaskier’s doublet.

“Gently,” Jaskier chides before taking the plush head between his lips. Faster than he can think, Eskel drags Jaskier down and fucks into his throat. Jaskier retches and the sound startles Eskel enough that Jaskier is able to escape. Reacting on instincts of his own, he hauls off and smacks Eskel’s shaft. Eskel yelps and writhes, moaning. A fat drop of precome rolls over the light mark Jaskier left behind.

“If you're going to behave like an animal you can go out in the woods and deal with this yourself,” he says, glaring. Eskel breaks eye contact first and Jaskier takes that as acquiescence.

He spends some time licking and kissing Eskel’s length, not quite trusting Eskel’s control. The mark he left has already faded. Eskel pleads with desperate, wordless sounds, and he gently pets Jaskier’s hair and neck until Jaskier relents. He takes Eskel in for a few slow sucks, and Eskel minds his manners until Jaskier flutters his tongue at the underside of Eskel’s cockhead.

Eskel grips Jaskier by the scruff of his neck so he can’t keep bobbing his head. Without a trace of remorse, Jaskier sets his teeth to the petal-soft skin of Eskel’s cock and commences to bite with increasing pressure until Eskel gets the hint. Jaskier pushes himself up and backhands Eskel’s cock without another word. The slap is loud rather than hard, but the imprint flushes a little darker than the first. Eskel cries out and bucks his hips against nothing, not a shred of anger in him, only violent lust. Jaskier sits back and ponders what he is going to do with Eskel’s frantic energy if he has to worry one or both of them will be injured.

When he looks up at Eskel’s face again, Eskel has turned away and lifted his chin, baring his neck for Jaskier in apology. Jaskier’s heart melts.

He darts away and grabs two fist-sized rocks from those encircling the fire pit and pries them loose from their spots. The stones are pleasantly warm from the fire and he scrubs the undersides against the grass to dispense with any creepy-crawlies. He places the rocks on either side of Eskel and guides Eskel to hold onto them.

“You’re allowed to spill, but don’t let go of those until I tell you. Understood?” He watches Eskel’s fingers flex around the rocks, and hopes that a simple task and the mimicry of body heat will be enough to ground him.

Eskel squeezes the rocks so hard that muscles ripple all the way up his arms. He whimpers and closes his eyes, face twisting around his scars. His cock stands proud and dark, an odd purplish shade from the black blood in Eskel’s veins. The golden light of the fire helps somewhat, but he still appears vaguely inhuman in a way that makes Jaskier’s guts twist in shameful arousal.

Jaskier straddles Eskel’s shins and begins to suck Eskel’s cock like their lives both depend on it. He’s intentionally sloppy, coaxing thick drool from the back of his mouth forward so he can fist the remainder of Eskel’s length. He uses every trick at his disposal, massaging Eskel’s balls, humming, making eye contact, and more, all in an effort to get Eskel off as quickly as possible. Eskel’s back arches but he keeps his ass pressed firmly to the ground. Jaskier pulls back and praises him for it. As soon as Eskel’s cock is back in his mouth, Eskel comes with a shout, pulsing bitter spend over Jaskier’s tongue.

Jaskier swallows and works him through it, but instead of going soft, Eskel is as hard as he was before. His cries only grow louder the longer Jaskier toys with him. Eskel’s balls tense in Jaskier’s palm and he massages them, fingers dancing behind to tease his perineum.

Eskel grunts and curves around Jaskier, convulsing through a more powerful climax that floods Jaskier’s mouth so much he has to retreat or risk overflowing and making a mess of them both. It seems indecorous to spit onto one of their bedrolls, so he swallows thickly a few times to get it all down, then grimaces afterward the same as if he had taken a large measure of cheap spirits. He’s grateful he ate a hearty dinner while Eskel was away, or he would surely have an upset stomach after all that. Ever the showman, he extends his tongue for Eskel’s inspection, and is well pleased when Eskel dives forward to lick the taste out of his mouth.

They moan and sigh together, kissing deeply with Eskel’s hands still obediently locked on the stones. Jaskier loves nothing more than an audience under his spell. His prick swells to full arousal fast enough to have him seeing stars.

“Yes, ah, you’re so good for me,” Jaskier says, pressing against Eskel’s broad belly to get some friction of his own. “Think you can help me with this?”

There’s some clumsy shuffling as Eskel tries to move down so he can suck Jaskier off, but Jaskier’s not stupid enough to let those sharp teeth near his cock when Eskel is jumpy and lust-addled.

“I have a better idea,” he says, and drapes himself back across Eskel’s lap, his legs curled toward the fire.

He admires Eskel’s tenaciously hard prick, and shoves his trousers down to release his own. Eskel immediately reaches out for Jaskier before he stops himself and puts his hand back on the stone. There's a softening in Eskel’s features and the veins in his face are receding as the potion dissipates.

“Here, darling,” Jaskier says. He guides Eskel’s hot palm to cup him and rolls onto his belly. “Be still. Show me how sweet you are.”

Eskel hums with pleasure when Jaskier takes him in his mouth once more. Jaskier shifts until he’s comfortable, one leg bent and one straight so he can rut down into Eskel's hand. He seeks his pleasure slow and easy, and he gives Eskel pleasure even more languidly. In truth, he mostly rests Eskel's prick in his mouth, only suckling as the mood strikes him, much more interested in his own release.

He gets closer to the edge despite, or perhaps because of, the almost-too-much friction of Eskel’s callused hand. He moans and grinds a little faster, tasting a burst of salt as Eskel huffs in heavy breaths, clearly scenting the air for Jaskier’s musk.

"Good, good boy for me," he mumbles into Eskel’s hip, holding Eskel’s prick tight around the base, distracted by his own looming climax. He feels the coiled tension of Eskel’s desire, and Jaskier proudly holds the reins.

His entire body lights up, instinctive and wanton. He breathes open-mouthed and cares not at all what kinds of sounds he makes. He’s still fully dressed, a binding of his own creation, and Eskel is pinned down by the strength of Jaskier's words, and Jaskier's skin is tight, too tight, until he finally splits, ecstasy tearing him asunder.

He arches up, head falling back as he fucks Eskel's hand. His seed smooths the way and he enjoys the filthy noise his rutting makes. So too, it seems, does Eskel, who groans, nostrils flaring. His cock throbs in Jaskier's fist and Jaskier is too dazed to catch the warning signs.

Eskel grunts like he's been punched and comes, the force of it pushing past the restriction of Jaskier’s fingers. Hot ribbons spray up Jaskier’s neck and across his face, and he flinches his eyes shut just in time.

“Sorry,” Eskel says, through gritted teeth. It’s the first word he’s managed since returning from his hunt.

“Clean up your mess,” Jaskier demands. He sits up, leaning over Eskel so none of the drips will land on his own clothing. Being coated in witcher spit isn’t anywhere close to being clean, but it’s better than nothing.

Eskel laps at Jaskier eagerly, long swipes interspersed with kitten licks that Jaskier is quite certain would go on until dawn if he allowed it. He turns away and Eskel switches to cleaning Jaskier’s release off his hand, rumbling with pleasure.

When Jaskier looks down, he’s not surprised to see Eskel is still ready for more. His cock is deep red now, rather than purple, which Jaskier takes as a positive sign. As he watches, Eskel’s prick leaps and the tendons pull tight in his hips. Eskel’s muscles work rhythmically, clenching around emptiness, fucking into nothing. He leaks copiously, cockhead glistening in the firelight, and Jaskier is transfixed by the possibility of Eskel bringing himself off without a single touch.

Eskel’s face is twisted into a scowl of concentration and Jaskier can tell he’s getting frustrated, though Eskel would never, ever admit it. Perhaps if this had been prior to Eskel’s first orgasm of the night he could have done it, and Jaskier intends to find out someday.

“Next time,” he promises, and shoves Eskel, trying to shift him off the pile of baggage. Eskel almost tips over, but doesn’t catch himself. “Oh,” Jaskier says sheepishly, realizing his mistake. “You can let go now.”

Eskel tosses the rocks back toward the firepit and grabs Jaskier instead. Jaskier starts at the top of his doublet and Eskel at the bottom, and they get rid of it in record time. His shirt goes next, and when he turns to rummage through his pack, Eskel pulls his breeches and smallclothes down.

The cheeks of his ass are pressed into a tight channel for Eskel to run his cock through and when Jaskier finds a suitable balm he’s almost tempted to stay bent over. His knees twinge against the hard ground before he lets that idea get the better of him, and he elbows Eskel away so he can flip onto his back, ungainly with pants still tangled around his shins.

Eskel is sitting back on his heels, watching ravenously, fingers digging deep into his own legs. Fat drops of slick go to waste, lost in the hair on his balls or trickling into the shadowed space behind.

“C’mon, give it to me,” Jaskier urges, thrusting greased fingers between his thighs to illustrate where he wants Eskel. He kicks his feet up, and Eskel catches them, throwing both legs over his shoulder and holding them tight with one arm. His cock rams straight into the valley of Jaskier’s legs, far simpler than preparing his ass for the kind of fuck he suspects Eskel needs to scratch the itch of poison in his veins. Jaskier spares a thought for the silk of his trousers against the spikes of Eskel’s armor before he is folded in half and pinned.

Snarls and glowing eyes lend weight to their beastly mating, and Jaskier teases out a story between them.

“So wild, so fierce,” he whispers, bracing his arms on the log behind him to give some resistance. “If I hadn’t known—if you had come across me in the forest, all alone.” He thought back to his first few years as a traveling bard, startled by every snapping twig. He let his voice waver and spoke with a higher tone, like a younger man. “I would have been trapped,” he gasps in excitement and fear. “I could never have escaped from your clutches.”

Eskel’s gaze flickers warily and his pace slows. Jaskier rushes on, changing tack to find the knife’s edge between shame and eagerness. “It would be obvious you weren’t going to kill me. Once I understood what you were truly hungry for…” He squeezes his legs tightly. “Oh, I would have had my ass up like a bitch in heat.”

That has the desired effect; Eskel pummels him with bruising strength, the strain in each of Jaskier’s breaths only adding to the shared fantasy. “You’d rip my clothes off and take me right there, nothing more than spit between us. Hollow me out and make a home inside.” He lifts his rump, curving up into Eskel’s weight. “Fuck, I’d come screaming, begging for more.”

Eskel turns his head and bites hard over the thick leather cuff of Jaskier’s traveling boots. He can feel the pressure on his calf through two layers of hide and imagines those sharp fangs set into his neck. Eskel’s hips stutter and he shouts through clenched teeth, tightening down further as he spills across Jaskier’s belly.

Jaskier worms a hand between them and runs his knuckles along the underside of Eskel’s cock, his options limited in the cramped space. “You’d take me down to the ground and fuck me raw with my face in the dirt,” he says with a tenderness that would seem out of place if he were talking to anyone other than Eskel. “This fat cock splitting me open, forcing in load after load until I’m fit to burst.”

Eskel keeps slipping through the slot of Jaskier’s thighs, letting Jaskier’s words stoke the fires of his appetite. His eyes are nearly normal, though the pupils are blown wide and round.

“This clearing would stink of us for days, and so would I. You’d leave me dripping with your claim. You could hold me like this so it stayed inside.” Eskel curls his lip in a lecherous smirk, so Jaskier continues. “I’d be soaked in it, sloppy and open. Be so easy for you to slide back in.” He wiggles with delight as his own prick starts to harden. “My ass would be wet as a mermaid’s cunt. Wet like your good little bitch should be.”

Eskel puts his free arm under Jaskier’s back and lifts him so their cocks line up and rub together. They kiss, but only briefly, the strenuous position too much for either of them to hold long. Jaskier closes his eyes and is swept up by the coiling tightness in his gut, by the tingling in his limbs.

There’s a sharp pinch on his thigh and Eskel raises an eyebrow expectantly. Jaskier gasps in false offense. “What? Not enough for you?” He stares down at Eskel’s thick length frotting against his own, dwarfing his not-insignificant offering. “You’re more than enough for me,” he says nonsensically. Eskel smiles and Jaskier tries to spin together the threads of his narrative, though it’s clear Eskel is back to his usual self.

“You’d be stuck with me after that, your own little songbird. I’d perch so pretty on that sapling of yours and you’d make me sing so sweet.” He laughs and runs dirty hands over his face, giddy and exhausted. Eskel laughs with him.

“Jaskier,” he says warmly.

“Give us your fist, darling,” Jaskier encourages. “Make it a good one to finish us off and I’ll weave a bit more.” Eskel eases back and shifts his hand from Jaskier’s legs down to hold both their pricks together. The ridge of his knuckles digs into Jaskier’s belly, but Jaskier considers it a small price to pay for some good, tight friction.

“Yes, ah— yes, just like that.” Jaskier’s mind races back through the story to find the parts Eskel reacted to best. “After every hunt you’d pounce on me, like a wolf in breeding season.” He isn’t sure if wolves have a mating season, but it isn’t important. All that matters is the feel of Eskel shuddering against him. “Wild and lusty, feral and hungry.”

Eskel growls, playing the part of the vicious beast. He speeds his movements and Jaskier burns with love.

“I’d— I’d learn to get myself ready as soon as you left camp, then I’d do my chores, open and aching. Waiting.” He moans, feeling the bowstring draw tighter within his core. “Stripped bare, ass up, presenting for you.” Eskel bares his teeth at the image and Jaskier is rapidly liquifying as he approaches his peak. “Praying to any god who would listen that there were no other monsters or men around to catch me like that.”

Eskel snarls dangerously at the threat and Jaskier likes that protective streak more than he cares to admit.

“But it’s you, only you, and— please, Eskel, fuck. I’m so fucking close,” he falls to begging, unable to maintain a narrative while his cock is being tenderly, lovingly wrecked between the rough heat of Eskel’s hand and the rigid steel of his prick. “I need it, please, I need you so much it hurts.”

He keens in despair when Eskel pulls away, but Eskel moves him like a ragdoll onto his belly. He gives Jaskier a spit-slick hand to fuck into while Eskel thrusts back between his thighs, bearing him down like the brute in Jaskier’s story.

“Show me how sweet you are,” Eskel purrs, echoing Jaskier’s earlier words. “Come for me, songbird. I want to hear you.” He nips Jaskier’s neck and twists his fingers around the crown of Jaskier’s cock, and Jaskier surges underneath Eskel as waves of cold fire crest within him. He vaguely feels the rush of Eskel’s release, but by then he’s too loose to do more than hum happily and let his eyes slip closed.

He wakes up snug and dry in Eskel’s arms, and he wonders wickedly when they will take their next contract.

#grassy writes #witcher fanfic #eskel/jaskier #what about the bard #watb #wreck the bard #pwp #rated e

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